#I CAN’T SAY ENOUGH ABOUT A N Y GIVEN ASPECT OF THIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedgito · 10 months ago

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𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄

summary | you're his best-friend's daughter and he's at a party he can't be bothered to care about, luckily you're the one thing that catches his attention. [5k]

pairing | lucien flores x fem!reader (best-friend's daughter!reader and/or alternatively, dad's best friend!lucien)

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, age gap (not specified, but it's girthy) smoking, semi-public sex, daddy kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, light choking, mentions of reader having hair that can be grabbed (to some degree), lucien is a major dilf and divorced, if i missed anything lmk!

author’s note | so, we know next to nothing about lucien but i have been sitting with this idea in my head and i wrote it. sue me. characterization could be completely off by the time the movie comes out but let's just enjoy the pwp and be hornknee, xoxo. also i hc that lucien does use some spanish. it's very minimal but it's there!

Lucien couldn’t give anyone a valid reason why he was here. Unwelcome and well, uninvited. At least, by the people who owned the house—his ex-wife and her new husband who referred to him as a leech who liked to mooch off the enjoyment of others because really, who was he to turn down an invite? He had a few close mutual friends who insisted that he be there, demanded it, even. He was personable enough, he could charm anyone, the other party-goers and it wouldn’t disrupt a damn thing.

Until he spots you.

He knows you from a distance—polite looks, short greeting and small talk, it never stretches beyond that. Maybe a few one off dinners here and there. You were his friend's daughter—best friend, but that didn’t matter.

And you know him well enough—through stories from your dad and pictures sent while he was away on vacation or work. He had a certain…aura to him that felt charged, overwhelming, and it provoked you to keep a distance when he was around. A charming smile and a wink in your direction never fails to make you weak in the knees and you know there’s no meaning behind, but it never fails to make you throb, something deep and primal in your gut.

You were half his age and clueless—he’s well-beyond your years, more experienced. In all aspects of life, but he can’t be that oblivious to the effect he has on you. Not within the handful of years he’s gotten to know you.

It’s the first time he’s seen you since you graduated college, a bright smile on your face as you sip on the flute of champagne in your hand, conversing lightly as he pops a cheese cube into his mouth, taking the freshly opened beer from your father and turning in the direction of the masses, sipping greedily as he leaned against the counter.

And given you’re a few glasses in, you feel a gentle buzz in your head that has you smiling when you set eyes on him.

Lucien was fine to remain unassuming all night, but the moment your eyes track him he’s perking up. Subtly, but you arms are outstretched as you approach him and he pulls you in like it was a regular greeting,

It wasn’t. Hardly at all.

Rough palms over warm skin, large and dexterous fingers pressing into your shoulder blades as you bury your face into his chest, the cold press of a chain against your temple. He says your name softly, a kind greeting as you smile into his chest and whisper his name in return.

When you pull back, he’s flashing a quick wink. Something he has done a million times before, but it feels electric, and maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you feel his fingers lingering against your skin before your father is cutting in—

“Told you he’d show up.” He speaks indifferently, outing your obvious want and hopefulness for him to show up—which yeah, you perked up at the mention of it being a possibility. But, you didn’t expect your father to throw it back in your face. You grumble something low and Lucien can’t help but smile, cheek dimpling on one side like it always did—a sign of a true and genuine smile.

“Missin’ me, are you?” Lucien teases, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest in frustration, ignoring his question. “That’s…sweet.”

Your eyes roll slightly, watching as your father melted away easily into the crowd, knowing he’d disturbed the peace and left you to clean up the mess. Not that you minded, but it didn’t help that Lucien had your body riddled with nerves, noticing the way he clocked every single movement—even the most subtle.

You kept rubbing at a spot behind your ear, uncomfortable with the crowd as you shifted from foot to foot and Lucien took note, tapping your elbow as he nodded toward the back door.

And you nearly talk yourself out of it, but he’s flashing that sweet smile your way and it’s hypnotic, feet moving before you can deny him the opportunity.

Luckily, the backyard was empty and that provided some peace. And privacy, at the very least.

You follow Lucien silently, feet shifting against the gravel as you follow him around to the side of the house, noting as he looks around curiously—he’s never been here either, clearly. He chews at his lip and nods again before finding a quiet spot, leaning against the side of the house, solid cement pressing into his back as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“So, college?” He asks idly, struggling slightly as he opens the fresh pack. Lucien knew enough about you, through small talk with you and your father and he seemed genuinely interested, like he wanted you to elaborate, so you did.

“Just graduated,” You tell him honestly, fiddling with a thin, decorative bow on your sleeve, complimenting the intricate flowery design of your dress, flowy and trimmed high at your thigh, a muted yellow that he knows is your favorite color, “how’s business—you know, with my dad and everything?”

Which you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about, but Lucien appreciates the gestures and chuckles, cigarette slipping between his lips as flicks open the lighter and burns the end of the cigarette until it flashes a deep amber before stowing away the pack and lighter into his pocket.

“Good,” He says gruffly through a deep inhale, exhaling jaggedly as he offers you the cigarette hesitantly, eyebrow raised in question, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad.”

You shoot him a look of annoyance, nose scrunching up as you pluck the cigarette from his fingers. You’ve never smoked a day in your life, but he didn’t need to know that.

He did. But, it doesn’t stop him from letting you take a puff, struggling to hide the grimace as you pass it back.

“I’m not seventeen anymore,” You retort flippantly, “It’s been, like, eight years. You can drop that already.”

Lucien huffs out a short breath through his nose as his eyes track the ground, puffing at the cigarette robotically, moving through the motions as he flicks the ash away.

You notice his change in demeanor, subtle but there.

“What?” You ask curiously, a tinge of amusement in your tone as you tilt your head to meet his eyes, hands resting loosely against your hips as you leaned against an opposing half-wall, ass hitting the edge as you backed into it. “If you have something to say just say it. You never have a problem making fun of me any other time.”

“Not makin’ fun,” He responds calmly, shaking his head—he puffs a few more times before the cigarette sits lonely between his index and middle at his side, “I know you’re not a kid anymore, that’s pretty damn obvious.”

Your chest rattles with a gentle laugh, feeling slightly relaxed now that he didn’t throw another easy jab your way, but you feel the heated implication behind his tone, the way his eyes drag along your body but he doesn’t act—he wouldn’t, right?

He seems fearful, hesitant. So, you play into it.

“What gave it away?” You tease. “I mean, I would flash off my degree but I don’t have that with me.”

Your arms cross over your chest again, tighter this time as your breasts shift obviously, nearly spilling out of the top of your dress and Lucien swallows with irritation, throat burning with the sting of nicotine but also a deep, deep want for…something.

He thinks, has a line locked and loaded in his head but he decides against it, laughing at the absurdity and knowing you would laugh about it too. But, the quiet chuckle and lack of response has you pressing him. You take a few steps forward, still a comfortable distance but he follows it, eyes tracking and following the line of your body as you question him.

“What?” You ask, “What's so funny?”

Lucien wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t resist.

“Just, uh—“ He shakes his head abashedly, a grin breaking out on his face, “was gonna suggest you flash somethin’ else but that’s—it’s stupid. Just a joke, that’s—“

And you hate how he’s looking at you now.

It’s desire—insatiable and needy and he blindly stubs out the cigarette into the wall behind him before he’s discarding it on the ground.

Fuck it, you’ll bite.

“Tell me,” You urge, “tell me what you wanna see.”

He releases a shaky breath, a small cloud of smoke passing his lips as he turns his head away and you take the chance to invade his space completely, fingers running along the outside of his now empty hand, guiding it along your hip slowly—he follows the movement intently as you speak, “I’ll listen, I swear.”

His hand squeezes gently at your hip, the gradual guide toward your breasts nearly killing him before he’s finally speaking, “Your tits,” He breathes, thumb brushing over a clothed nipple, hardened under the fabric and he can feel it, knowing it’s the only layer that’s keeping him from a bare touch of your skin, “show me.”

And it should worry you that you’re only a few feet from the back door, but you weren’t worried—these types of people, they never lingered outside. They chain smoked and filled the house with a haze, the house littered with empty cans of booze and idle chit chat. The low hum was a comforting ambience, a reminder that you had each other to yourself.

You anticipated the feeling of being riddled with nerves, but his words spark a surge of pride through you, seeing how he gives into your plea to command—you want him to want it too, to demand it. You bite your bottom lip through a smile that has him cracking one similar, looking around briefly before you’re pulling the straps of your dress down in unison, his fingers cautiously catching the falling fabric as he helps keep your dress just under the valley of your breasts, allow the wide expanse of his hands to cup the soft tissue, your fingers curling around his own as he squeezes and admires in awe, bottom lip parted and wet from his tongue peeking out to soothe his chapped skin.

“Fuck, they’re—“

You cut him off with a snarky comment, “Just like you imagined?” You smirk subtly, catching the guilty look he flashes at you, eyes admiring as he flicks a thumb over the nipple of your left breast, the other one squeezed gently in his hand. Your pussy throbs between your thighs and it makes your heart swell, the soft groan he releases as he watches the skin pebble and goosebump under his touch. “It’s okay, I know you’ve thought about it.”

It’s not right. It never was. But, you’ve caught him red-handed. He nods slightly, a quick jerk of his head that you would miss if you weren’t locked on his face, mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his thumb and index finger pull and twist at your nipple, experimenting with your reaction. “Better than I imagined, if that’s possible.” He admits wholeheartedly, before his hands are leaving your breasts and curling around the back of your thighs, carrying you the short distance to the perch on the half-wall, resting your ass against the cold slab of concrete before his mouth is assailing your breasts without warning, fingers fisting into his beautiful and messy coiffed curls, full of product and smelling faintly of citrus—he groans, his wide tongue flattening over the skin before he’s sucking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You gasp sharply, palm slapping into the concrete at the sudden shot of pleasure it strikes to you core, knowing you were soaking through your panties with every passing second and his free hand was only a few inches away, lingering against your thigh as he squeezes, blunt nails digging into the skin as you mumbled mindlessly.

“Please,” You whine softly, “please—“

You’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Lucien feels the charge, the want you crave with his demanding nature and he pulls away briefly, hands leaving the other parts of your body to attach to your face, cradling your head momentarily as he examines your face, the slow drag of your teeth over your bottom lip as you dare to keep the eye contact, a glint of feral desire in your eye.

“Have you ever had your pussy eaten before?” Lucien asks boldly, point-blank as you shake your head. “Good.”

He backs away briefly, allowing you to rush to remove your panties, no words to be spoken to tell you to do so—you were more than eager, ready to toss them to the ground before he’s stuffing them in the loose pocket of his silk button up.

And really, you could find a million reasons to complain right now. Knowing there was a house full of people just inside, that you were ruining your dress with the patch of dirt against the edge of your ass or how it was going to get under your fingernails as your hands squeezed into the soil as he settled between your legs, crouching until his face is right in line with your pussy, bare and glistening in his face and he swears he’s never seen anything more mesmerizing—says it too.

It has your stomach doing flips, his fist bunching into the fabric of your dress as he pushes it up and away, eyes slanting up to look at your as he nudges your thighs apart, resting one gently over his shoulder for support as he gives a teasing, testing lick between your lips.

You sigh shakily, leaning back on your palms but keep your chin against your chest, watching as Lucien kept his eyes locked on you while his tongue traced along your seam, sucking testingly at your clit and that draws a ragged gasp out, which is rewarded with a big grin and a small chuckle, “Oh fuck,” You say on a punched-out breath, “fuck that’s so—“

“Language, nena,” Lucien chastises and you almost lose your grip on reality, reeling at how easily he can assert himself, “don’t need your daddy hearing all that, right?”

Not the fucking time, you think. A hand fists into his hair, pulling roughly as he ups the pace, tongue lapping you up greedily, swirling around your quickly swelling clit with a precision that takes years of practice to master—and you’re sure he’s had plenty, but then he’s piping up again and it has your breath catch in your throat.

“Not—not the time,” You gasp, “fuck—Luc, oh my god—“

He pulls back suddenly, chin gripped between his fingers as he speaks, smothering and far too close than he needs.

“Unless you need me to play daddy for you,” He challenges, “keep that dirty mouth in check, amorcito.”

You whine slightly, both from the tinge of pain and the implication of him labeling himself like that. So boldly and unashamed. You can’t help but give him what he craves.

You nod quickly, “O-okay,” You respond softly, earning a gentle tug of warning as he waits, “Yeah—yes, daddy.”

Lucien grins devilishly, a quick decent as he resumes his previous actions with no blip, mouth attaching to your pussy with ease and falling back easily into the motion, devouring you with a fervor that consumes you, arms nearly collapsing out underneath you as he dares to slip a finger in with his greedy tongue, biting your lip until you taste that faintness of copper, desperate to muffle the sounds as he sucks at your clit until you’re begging to come, words teetering on your tongue as you feel a swell of boldness fill your chest, guiding his face against your pussy in a way that Lucien can only describes as needy, giving you some credit as you give into your own pleasure so easily, unashamed at how badly you want to come—even without asking.

“Hu—oh, don’t—don’t stop—I’m gonna cum.” You plead, soft but desperate, his tongue swirling rapid, messy circles against your clit that forces your orgasm to creep up on you, body buzzing with electricity as it builds and explodes, releasing a tired sigh as you collapse onto your back, “—oh my god.”

Lucien rises with a slight grimace, aging knees not too appreciative of his current position, his hands engulfing your forearms as he pulls you sturdily upright. And you could stop here, go back inside, pretend nothing happened, and see each other a few years from now.

But, neither of you want that.

Lucien cradles your face once more, slow creeping movements as his fingers curl behind your ears and cradle your head gently, eyes shifting between your wide eyes and slightly parted lips, swollen from being assaulted by your own teeth, biting and chewing away nervously. He soothes the skin with a touch, the pad of his thumb swiping over it gently before he’s following up with his lips, kissing you gently. Silently.

He didn’t ask and you didn’t want him to.

“What do you say, nena?” He asks teasingly, “Want me to fuck you?”

“Right here?” You whisper against his lips, sounding scandalized despite what’s already progressed within the last several minutes.

Lucien soothes your worries with another kiss, deep and desperate as he tongue licks into your mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” He pleads softly, feeling the way your fingers grip into the fabric at his shoulders, “fuck, you’re so tense, nena.”

You breath softly, a small exhale that Lucien clocks and soothes, “Let daddy take care of you,” He teases sweetly, hearing the sharp intake of breath you take as his nose nudges at the sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth following the touch and biting gently, “go on, ask for it.”

You nod lazily, moaning softly as he mouths at your neck. “Do it,” You command gingerly, and Lucien’s hands squeeze at your skin, the fingers on one hand gripping tightly at your shoulder—“daddy, please?”

He runs the back of his fingers down your chest, through the valley of your breasts and your thumb rubs at the small tattoo etched in the space between this thumb and index finger. It’s always been so prevalent, eyes spotting it whenever he scratched at his face or wiped at his mouth during one of the rare dinners you had with him and your father.

You hated how easy it was for you to notice and memorize the small things about him, stuff that shouldn’t mean anything but ended up meaning entirely too much—the faint trail of freckles that cover his chest, muffled by his tan skin but at this proximity, under the small spattering of chest hair, under the dangling of a few gold chains, you can spot them.

Allowing your movement to mimic his as your finger hooks into the material of his shirt, just over the highest, fastened button and he stops you, eyebrows furrowing. Thick fingers wrapping around your palm guide you down, your own fingers flexing against his stomach and Lucien wants to jump at the touch, the boldness you take on now as you pull him in, continuing your descent as you palm him impatient over his jeans, the uncomfortable stretch of the fabric apparent with the press of weight against your hand.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, voice a soft whisper–fearful someone may hear you.

Lucien shakes his head and you have the nerve to be frustrated, pulling your hand away hesitantly but his reflexes are too quick, fingers encircling your wrist as he pulls you into him, chest pressing into his, looking down at him slightly with your unfair height advantage.

“If you’re good, maybe,” He explains, “Can you be a good girl and listen, nena?”

You nod eagerly, using his shoulders for support as he guides you off the ledge before quickly spinning you until your stomach presses against the cold wall, his hands working to shift your dress up your hips, the entirety material bunched around your stomach and leaving you nearly naked, his body the only cover to someone who wanted to peek around the corner and catch an eyeful, his belt buckle jingling loudly behind you.

You almost turn—almost, but his hands are faster than you, wrapping gently around your neck, traveling up until he can cup your chin back and tilt your head back, looking up at him from an angle that stretches you uncomfortably, but the hot press of his cock against your ass soothes any discomfort, eyes squeezing shut as he rubs his middle finger over your clit testingly, gaging your sensitivity.

And clearly over-sensitive still, he chuckles.

“You come for me again and you can have whatever you want,” Lucien barters with you, canting his hips slightly to guide through your wetness from behind briefly, his hand hooking around the back of your thigh to lift it up, allowing for more room and leaving you, essentially, putty in his grip—pliable and moving where he guided you, “you want it inside of you, nena? Ask for it.”

“Luce, please,” You whine softly, a gentle squeeze at your throat as you open your eyes, slightly bleary from how tight you had them closed and he’s looking at you pointedly—right. He watches you take a short, shaky breath, “fuck—daddy, please?”

Lucien bucks his hips gradually, heart racing from the teasing glide of his cock through your folds, he could chastise you for speaking so crudely but the sweetness in your voice is enough to leave him satisfied, dropping your leg suddenly as he adjusts himself, slightly, pressing into you slowly, hand gripping his shaft as you gasped, the stretch of his thick cock more than you were used to and he sees it, feels it in the way you squeeze around him.

“De mierda,” He curses quietly, “used to fucking college boys, yeah?”

“Huh—a—a couple,” You admit, gritting your teeth slightly as he jerks his hips slightly, seating himself inside of you fully then, a collective groan leaving your lips, “but you’re so—”

Lucien chuckles darkly, burying his face into your neck, the burn of the stretch from the angle he has your head becoming more prevalent, but the way he mouths at your skin makes it easier to ignore, moving his hips slowly to allow to adjust, the soft jingle of his belt against the starchy denim in the back of your mind, “So what, nena?”

As if to prove a point, he pulls back suddenly, slamming back inside of you with force, ripping a strangled groan groan from your throat that he stifles with his palm, eyes connecting with yours in a warning, forehead pressing against the underside of his chin from the angle he has you. His hand grabs greedily at your backside, fingers digging into your cheek and guiding you back pointedly.

“B—big,” You answer brokenly, “so fucking big, daddy.”

You can feel the imprint of his smirk into your skin as he squeezes at your flesh, moaning freely into the guise of his hand, muffling your sounds as he fucks into you from behind, watching as you fail to keep your eyes open, falling deeper into your own mind as he reaches blindly for your arms, allowing him to lock them behind your back with his large hands encircling them easily.

“Look at me,” He breathes gruffly, the deep creases in his forehead showing with how hard he’s trying to hold himself together, his soft brown eyes darkened to near black as he admires you openly, mouth parted slightly, “baby, look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite your state, sobbing openly into his hand as he allows you some relief, guiding your head back down slowly but nearly wrapping himself around you as he sandwiches you between him and the wall, setting your hands free and pressing his own against the ledge in front of you, the other one gripping your hip harshly.

He’s mumbling something behind you, sounding wrecked beyond repair—some in english, some in spanish. His voice is heavier and slurry, small groans escaping when you squeeze him just a little too tight, “Cuidado, nena. Easy, easy,” He begs into your shoulder, “I can feel it, baby.”

“I wanna taste it,” You tell him suddenly, driven to near insanity by the thought of it, his heady taste on your tongue as he jerks himself into your mouth—and if this was only a one-time thing, you just couldn’t pass that up, “please?”

And fuck, he can’t say no to you.

He switches gears, fingers finding your clit and circling quickly, determined to bring you over the edge once more, before he can reach that point himself, following through on his promise to make you come again as it hits you suddenly, muffled into the hand that finds your mouth again, biting gently at the inside of his palm in an effort to stifle your moan, his movements going far past the point of over-stimulation and you swat him away, hearing his voice strained from behind you.

“On your knees, nena.” He directs and you move quickly, seeing the pained and pinched up look on his face as he grips his cock, glistening with your slick as he jerks himself in front of your face, gravel digging into your knees but you can’t be bothered to care, eagerly sticking out your tongue to feel the press of his tip against it.

“Good—good girl, look so fuckin’ sweet down on your knees.”

Your delicate fingers grip into the silk material of his shirt as he cradles the top of your head, fingers gripping into your hair roughly as he comes with a strangled groan, muffled through clenched teeth.

Thick spurts paint your tongue, your lips wrapping around his head briefly as you swirl your tongue around the head, determined to clean up whatever mess was left as you swallow it down, flashing your tongue in show as he loosens his grip on your hair, stumbling back slightly.

The aftermath is quiet, fumbling with clothes to redress yourself as you pull your straps back over your shoulder, adjusting the dress back over your hips and Lucien keeps a careful eye on you, tucking himself back into his briefs, jeans slipping back over his ass as he buckles the belt into place, noticing how you squeeze your thighs together instinctively, suddenly remembering where your missing garment had gone.

You start to reach for it but his hand covers the pocket, brow furrowed in a playful frustration as he swats your hand away, “Luce, I need those.” You insist, but he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Maybe I want an excuse to return them,” He admits, puffing out his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles, running a lazy hand through his tousled hair before giving you a quick one-over, assuming you didn’t want to stress the…fucked-out look you’re sure you sported, to some degree. A small hum slips from his lips as he nods toward the back door, “I’m gonna smoke another, if you wanna head inside.”

Less conspicuous, less obvious. Besides, he needed a minute to collect himself. Clearing his throat as he reached into his back pocket for the second time that night.

You leave quietly, a simple nod but a lingering touch as he fingers trail along your wrist as you leave, a definitive wink your way as he turns away, faint lighter flick in the distance.

You mold back into the small talk with ease, only catching him entering through the backdoor several minutes later, a faint blush to his cheeks from the sticky heat and you linger, selfishly.

And he’s hoping to blend in, avoid any and all conversation for the rest of the night—but there’s your father, hot on his heels as he sways a little on his feet, looking eager for conversation.

“How’s your kid doing?” He asks casually, “I’m sure she talked you head off about college.” There’s a subtle nod in your direction that makes you uncomfortable, shrinking slightly from the wall you rested against.

“Fine.” Lucien bites back his words, giving little away.

“I get it, college ain’t easy on us,” He replies, “But, I sure am proud of her.”

Lucien smiles slightly, a small huff of a laugh hidden behind pursed lips.

“Should be,” He agrees, “she’s something special.”

And if your heart doesn’t swell ten sizes then, it’s later. Wondering how he got your number as he sends a picture of the ruined panties he kept for himself, draped over his lap as he sends a short message.

Got a minute? Wanted to return these.

Fortunately for you, you had all the time in the world for Lucien.

#lucien flores #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

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rinrinx2 · 5 months ago

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Let’s Pretend

Toji x Y/N

Summary: Toji needs a fake wife for a mission who better than you.

Warnings: Smut, inappropriate language, talks you through it, mentions of d£ath.

Toji looked at Shui unsure of what his exact reaction should be to the mission he had offered him to complete.

The money he would obtain would be enough to sustain him for the next few months, to allow him to live a soft comfortable life until he would need the next mission to fill his pockets.

“You need to pretend to be a married couple”

He couldn’t deny the money aspect of this mission Shui proposed, the only condition he was unsure about was the requirements this mission had.

Toji was letting Shui’s words hang in the air so that Shui would be able to hear how stupid it sounded.

“Don’t give me that look Toji�� Shui said as he pulled out his cigarette cartridge, knocking out one as he placed the stick between his lips.

“I will obviously provide you with the necessary partner to play the role of your wife” He said lighting the cigarette, taking a deep inhale.

“Is it really necessary for me to act like a couple, can’t I just complete this mission alone” Toji said slighted agitated.

“No the client detailed that you need to play the role of a married couple in order to complete the mission, besides think of it as someone who can take half the burden of the mission” Shui said blowing out smoke.

Toji has that look of clear irritation painted on his face, the raised brow, his eyes slightly raised, his top lip twisted into a snarl and his body slightly hunched.

Toji was as lazily as they came but as much as he was lazy he hated any assistance that might be given for a mission. There was a certain way he conducted his missions and having another person would only ruin the system he had perfected.

Shui let out a chuckle taking in Toji’s expression. He had worked long enough with the assassin to know what he was already thinking. But before Toji could protest any further Shui spoke out again.

“You’ll meet her at the necessary location of the mission”

“How will I know it’s her” Toji said eyeing the smoking man.

“You’ll know and Toji formal” Shui said as he dropped the half smoked cigarette as he put it out with his expensive shoes.

Toji sipped at his whiskey leaning against the bar he stood at.

God, I hate this monkey suit

Toji thought slightly flexing against the restraing of the cheap polyester suit he had scrummaged out from some forgotten nook of his wardrobe.

Toji continued to sip at the whiskey, watching as the minutes ticked by on his watch, every minute feeling longer than the last as he waited for his so called partner/ fake wife for the evening.

If she doesn’t pitch soon I’m just gonna kill the fucker needed and head home

So entrapped in his thoughts he hadn’t felt the presences of someone standing beside him. A red flag in itself as if someone was skilled enough to get by him undetected a clear indicator of his partner.

“So, you usually stand here looking obvious?” the voice beside him spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Do you always take this long to show up to places?” Toji replied back in an even more sarcastic tone as he slightly looked over at the woman who would be his partner for the evening.

From the brief look he took at you, he was impressed. From the black dress highlighting your figure, with curves in all the right places, healthy looking hair, a face that belonged on a screen and an ass that was just begging to get smacked.

“Maybe I should thank Shui” Toji whispered under his breath to himself.

“What was that?” You say turning your head slightly to Toji.

“Oh nothing …. But honey we should get a move on” Toji said putting on the act of your fake husband as his hand went to the small of your back, placing his empty class on the table as he guided you away from the bar.

Toji guided you to the lobby of the busy hotel, as the two of you made your way to the front desk. You remained calm and natural, with a soft smile on your face as you placed your hand on Toji’s chest, as the diamond on your ring finger shown brightly in the warm lighting of the lobby.

“Good evening, we have a booking for the Fushiguro’s”

“Good evening” The front desk man said with a vibrant smile that highlighted his smile lines.

“Ah yes, we have one. For a newly wed couple. I would like to thank you on behalf of our establishment for having your honeymoon here” the middle aged front desk man said with that smile not leaving his face.

“Thank you” Toji said as he took the key from the man’s hand.

“Please be sure to use all our hotel has to offer”

“Don’t worry I’ll make sure to use everything thoroughly” Toji said with a smirk as he eyed you up and down.

The middle aged man kept the smile on his face, trying his best to not react to Toji’s innuendo as you slightly slapped his chest in a playful manner trying to make it seem as Toji and you were simply just a couple in love not to assassins sent out here to murder someone in this lovely hotel.

“Well this is urhm definitely a lovers suite” you announced as you opened the door of your hotel room to reveal a rather interesting room set up.

A massive bed, with a rather larger oak head board that had an interest pattern of diamond shapes carved into it, with coincidentally silk rope decorating the diamond shaped holes. In the corner of the room was a rather large chair that could easily, comfortably seat two people , with one person that could be seated atop of the other.

You look around the room some more, as you felt Toji push into the room beside you.

“Get over it doll face, we got the baby making room. Relax” he said placing the suitcases onto the floor beside the bed.

“Not like you’re gonna make one in here” he said rolling his eyes slightly.

You walked into the room slightly irritated at his comment as you watched him unpack the suitcase that held various guns.

“So, when are we going to take the target out?” You asked approaching Toji.

“Tomorrow at breakfast. His some fat guy, bald head. His apparently dealing in curse objects he stole from some cult he pretended to be in. So, we have to take him out get the objects and that’s that” Toji said as the finished his sentence off rather nonchalantly.

You looked at him with a raise brow, slightly impressed as to how easy he made the mission sound like.

“So, you know why we have to pretend to be a fake couple?” You asked further a slight smile of amusement on your lips as you sat on the bed in front of Toji.

“Nope”

“Well we have to act like a couple because baldy knows you’re single, so Shui suggested we pretend to be a couple on our honeymoon to throw him off it could make it easier for us to get closer to him” you replied with a smirk as the tip of your black heel was now underneath Toji’s chin, causing his gaze to meet yours.

“Well pop the champagne, Shui’s a smart man for a change” Toji replied as he gripped your foot away from under his chin.

“You’re a real fun guy” you said with sarcasm in your voice.

“Sugar tits, as much as I find you attractive and would easily screw you; we have a mission to complete and that’s the goal” Toji said as he starred down at the suitcase placing one gun on the night stand.

You looked at Toji with a smile of impressiveness, you had heard all sorts of stories and rumours about the handsome assassin in front of you ranging from unethical and impractical and yet here he was holding restraint from taking you.

“Come on we need to go to dinner, if we can fool everyone into thinking we’re married it will be easier to take the fat bastard out tomorrow at breakfast, he won’t be suspecting a thing”

“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?” The waitress asked as she eyes Toji up and down with a smile pressed onto her red lips.

“Nothing at all, but please be sure to ask my wife” he replied not giving much mind to the young woman serving use.

You had to admit Toji was really playing the role of the loyal doting husband. The way he held your hand over the table in view of everyone, to how he attempted to share his food with you.

“I’m fine. Thank you” you replied looking up at the waitress, as you watched her walk away with that smile not budging.

“How many times is that waitress going to come and ask you if you need a refill” You said rolling your eyes slightly.

“You sure are a possessive wife” Toji teased as he bit down on the pasta he was eating at.

“I get it you’re handsome but handsome enough to get this woman come up to us every five minutes to ask to top up your wine you haven’t even touched”

You would’ve continued your rant till a familiar man came up to you and your husband.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but your wife is extremely beautiful. I think I might of seen her on the cover of a magazine”

Fat bald bastard

The lights in Toji’s head shone bright as the target they had to kill was right in front of him.

“Thank you, her beauty is really one of the reasons I married her” Toji replied trying to remain cool and collected as to not suspect the target.

“Well, then on that note I hope you don’t mind if I bought your beautiful wife a drink”

“I’d love that but she only really like to drink in private” Toji replied not wanting you to drink whatever liquid the man would give you unsure if it was laced in case he recognised the two of you.

“Ah please, everytime I see a beautiful woman I have to buy her a drink. Well if you don’t want me to buy her a drink why don’t I send a bottle of champagne to your room” the fat man said with a wide smile as his red cheeks shone like polished balls.

“Sure. We’re room 17 F”

“Why didn’t you just kill the guy when he came to our table?” You asked as you rubbed your lotion into your legs.

“So, the whole restaurant can go into a frenzy and the guys at his table shoot you dead on the floor. No thank. We have to be subtle” Toji replied as he got underneath the sheets.

“Aren’t you thoughtful” you said, as you were about to climb into bed yourself until you realised what you were doing as you starred at Toji.

“What” Toji replied as he felt your eyes on him, unsure of what stopped you from getting into bed until he realised.

“God just get into bed, I’m not going to sleep on the floor. If I had to fork out from my money to pay for this expensive as hotel then I am getting to sleep in the bed. So you either get into bed with me princess or the floor is waiting for you”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at his words, as you climbed into bed not wanting to have to lay on the cold floor with nothing but your silk slip dress nighty to keep you warm.

“Smart decision” Toji said as he turned his back towards you.

You laid in the dark room for a moment, unable to sleep as you tossed and turned. Your movements not going unnoticed as Toji rolled to face you now.

“I can’t sleep” you whispered to him.

“Just close your eyes”

You huffed out a sigh as you closed your eyes, but still you were unable to fall asleep.

“Still can’t sleep” Toji said with his eyes shut feeling as you were still awake.

“Why don’t we do what husband and wife do to help them go to sleep” Toji said opening his eyes, as you could sense the smirk in his face even in the dark.

“I thought you didn’t want to screw me”

“Well that was before supper, I was hangry and I mean we would only being playing the part we were given for this mission” Toji said as you felt his hand move up your thigh.

“Besides wouldn’t it be obvious that we’re not married if people didn’t hear noises from a honey moon suite”

You breathing became harder, as you listened to Toji’s words trying your best to comprehend what he was saying but the feeling of his calloused hands running up your soft thigh was turning your brain into mush by the second.

You felt as his fingers reached your pantie line, feeling as he played with the lace of the thong you wore.

“Pull them to the side” Toji whispered.

You complied easily not even protesting as your pulled the flimsy fabric away from your pussy, surprised how you were already wet from such a simple action.

“Atta girl” Toji said, as he slowly moved his fingers to your pussy, massaging your pussy lips, revelling in the puffiness of them as he felt the wetness of your slick start to drip out. Gently taking his index finger and pushing it in between your folds as he gathered your slick onto his fingers, pulling his finger out as he smeared it onto your puffy pussy lips.

“You like princess?” Toji whispered into your ear, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing heavily into his chest.

“I’m gonna push my fingers in now” Toji said as he began to move his index and ring finger into your warmth. Pushing the digits in and out of you, feeling the tight wetness around them.

“Enjoy the feeling baby” Toji said in the sweet seductive voice as his other hand came down to the small of your back pressing your closer to him, as he felt your move against him in pleasure.

Toji began to move his fingers faster, feeling as your pussy allowed him to push his fingers deeper in. And they nudged perfectly against that bundle of nerves, Toji chuckling softly as he watched your move around as you writhed with pleasure.

“Found that spot” Toji began to massage that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. Toji could feel you get close as he felt your pussy get tighter and tighter by the second.

So close to your high, but before you could fall over the edge you felt as he pulled his fingers out. You pulled away from his chest looking up into his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to his lips as he licked your wetness off of them.

“Delicious”

As the words left Tojis lips he began to kiss you passionately, his tongue lapping at yours as you tasted yourself on him.

“Take it out”

And you did as he instructed, pulling his hard member out of his boxers.

“Take your dress off”

You quickly sat up and pulled the silky fabric off your skin.

“Lay back down and turn on your side”

You now laid on your side, feeling as Toji’s hard cock pressed against your ass, his tip slightly leaking pre-cum as his hands began to massage your breasts.

The cool air of the room and the roughness of his hands causing your nipples to be hard and your pussy to get wetter.

“You want me to fuck you?”

You nodded, desperately wanting Toji to fuck you.

“Beg for it”

You breath caught in your throat at his words, like dry and mind muddy with pleasure as you tried to form a sentence.

“Please ~ ah. Please fuck me Toji”

Toji didn’t need to hear another word as he slipped his hard member in, keeping still as he let you adjust to his members size.

You could feel his thick girth filling you up as he knocked against your cervix from his length.

“I’m gonna fuck your brains out now” Toji said as he began to move, slow and steady rhythm, as he pushed his tip slightly out before plunging deep inside you m. The loud sloshing noise of your pussy and whiny moans filling the room.

“That’s it take my cock. Feel it fucking fill you up”

Your mind a puddle of pleasure as your pussy was now being rammed by his thick cock as his hands squeezed and pulled at your breast, feeling his hot breath against your neck as he fucked you from behind.

“You like being fucked like you my wife”

Toji said biting on your ear, as he moved faster, feeling your slick drip down his thighs. Toji could tell you were getting closer by how your moans became louder and more desperate and from the way your pussy was starting to milk him.

“I’m gonna cum in you, so cum for me princess”

Toji’s hand came down to your clit, as he rubbed the swollen bud trying to get you finish on his cock faster. Rubbing the slick bud up and down.

“That’s it right there”

Toji could feel his own high reaching as his balls began to constrict and relax a clear sign his hot cum was ready to shoot out, as it moved up his shaft.

The feeling of Toji’s cock stuffing you and his fingers playing with your clit became to much as you felt your pussy tighten around his cock. Toji felt as you came hard, shoving his cock as deep as he could in you.

“Fuck yes baby”

Toji growled out as he felt himself shoot ropes of hot cum into you, feeling as he painted your insides a nice pearly white.

Suddenly without any warning your bedroom door came swinging open.

“I decided to bring your champagne myself I hope I’m not disturbing”

Without another thought Toji grabbed the gun he had left on the nightstand shooting the fat bald bastard down in one swift motion as the champagne bottle came falling down to the floor, the liquid spilling all over the carpeted floor.

You turned your head over your shoulder looking at Toji, with his cock still buried deep inside you, as you tried to catch your breath.

“So much for subtle death”

Hope you like it <3

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 9 months ago

Text

NSFT Alphabet: Alva Lorenz

More wonderwall! lol this for @vaecci and written with the help of @turbulentscrawl

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Alva seems like the type to be good at aftercare. Checking on you, rubbing parts you point out are sore, he also allows you to touch him if you need that part of aftercare to focus yourself (it is also why he is touching you and talking you through it too)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His mind, until you say what physically he likes about himself. He would then say hands (privately you say his mouth wink). He likes your hair, as texture and stim for him. This goes for your nails and hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He does not hate it per se but he is quick to clean it up and would cum on you on easy spots like the stomach or back.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It is not a dirty secret but he would like to have a child with you. Not a breeding kink but just something a man of his age and time would want his partner.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

The man was married so he would know what to do.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You on your back uwu

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not much hair, and if there is hair it is very well groomed

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He is enjoying himself

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t have a high enough sex drive to get him going

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is not very kinky tbh and given both a man of his time and him only having a high libido, I don't think he explored much. You can offer some things tho! Just understand if he not going to choke you during sex. I agree with him being the type to like seeing you dressed up and know what is underneath all of that too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His room or yours, the man is private

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Alva has low libido but it does not mean some things do not ‘spark’ the mood sort of speak.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Impact play

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The man is amazing, too good, you gonna be lying on his desk pretty sure you unlocked the secrets of the universe

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think he can be fast as he gets close but I do not think he would go straight to fast and rough. He is slow and sensual, enjoying the moment type

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

No quickies, again he is enjoying the moment

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

You gonna have to bring it up to him tbh

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can push two rounds tops (great foreplay so don't worry)

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does enjoy toys and would use a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the privacy of his room while he works. Also, the use of toys is encouraged if you have a high sex drive, he can’t keep up and would encourage you to use those (of course he will not just toss that on you, this is spoken about before anything sexual happens between you both).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can tease especially when you hand over control of the vibrator

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quite but breathy

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Uses electrical stimulation

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He satisfying

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Low sex drive

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He fall asleep with you

#idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #idv x you #alva lorenz x reader #alva lorenz #identity v hermit #idv hermit #hermit x reader #hermit x you

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s1ater · 2 years ago

Text

promise me nothing.

pairings. steve harrington x fem!reader

about. steve and you cross paths, only for him to find out some bad news about you.

warnings. foul language, s4 spoilers sorta

ricky rocks. anotha one 😼🙌 also part two or nah?

“long time, no see, harrington,” you nod as you pass him before looking up and unintentionally connecting eyes with five other people at once. “and children…”

you nod again in acknowledgement, getting a good look at them all before making a move to walk away from the car they were all huddled around, but steve grabs your arm, “hey, what’s going on?”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

he rolls his eyes, still holding your bicep firmly. he tips his head toward the swarm of law enforcement in the front of a house before raising a brow, “you’re telling me this is nothing?”

“just about.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“i think we need to talk.”

you and steve go back; way back since pre-school days, and although neither of you were ever truly close, there was a mutual understanding that you both had each other’s backs.

you both came from similar backgrounds; life set up since day one, given nice cars, lived in nice houses, and grew up in the hawkins country club aspect for loser adults trying to relive high school popularity by flaunting money.

and you were only tied more together by the strange and abnormal encounters and fights for life against the sci-fi creatures that had no faces and were covered from head to toe in slime—that eventually turned into something way bigger than the mind could fathom.

ever since the mall fire during the summer after senior year, you hadn’t seen steve or any of his nerd posse—till now.

you almost thought you were seeing things, but then again, you should have guessed that when anything remotely strange or out of the normal happened in hawkins, they’d always turn up, immediately on the case.

just never this fast.

“i think i’m dying.”

“what?”

you stood in front of steve, nancy, robin, and three of his freshman friends. their presence made you suddenly anxious and you couldn’t help but begin to talk out of your ass as you slightly paced back and forth in your parents living room.

how steve coaxed you into talking to them—you weren’t sure—but it didn’t take long and it seemed you were almost more than willing to allow them into your home by the way you so easily opened your front door and offered snacks and refreshments.

yep, you were definitely dying.

they watched you with sudden concerned and confused looks, not knowing what to say and not expecting you to throw them this type of curve ball.

“brandon,” you mumbled, your hands shaking out in front of you. “jesus, i can’t even think straight…” you place your hand on your forehead, thinking over whether or not you should ever be speaking right then. “he’s dead.”

“who’s brandon?” dustin glances around to everyone but you, afraid to make eye contact almost.

“her boyfriend,” steve whispers, speaking as if you can’t hear them. and you almost couldn’t.

“i can’t even-i don’t even know-“

“hey, hey,” steve stops you in your tracks of speaking, sitting up from the chair he previously sat in. “you don’t have to say anything right now, just breathe. sit down.”

steve liked you, a lot. like, since day one, even as kids, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

there was just something about you. you had a good head on your shoulders, you knew what you wanted, you didn’t let anything or anyone knock you off your feet, and you didn’t need anyone to save you. he hated that fact—the fact that you didn’t need him and he hated that sometimes it seemed you weren’t anything more than acquaintance.

“sit down,” he pulled you by the arm till you were close enough for him to place a hand on your waist, carefully guiding you to the chair he was previously in, giving you a soft look. “just breathe for a moment, alright?”

everyone glanced to each other at the gesture, almost not believing it. they looked to steve now where he stood in your place, his hand stroking his chin in thought, “i think it’s time we call in your pal eddie.”

it seemed you were in and out of sensibility as you thought over the past 24 hours, not believing it was real. you felt crazy, not being able to keep a stable thought in your head for more than a minute before turning into an emotional mess.

steve knew you weren’t in your right mind, especially after you let eddie into your home without a second thought. he didn’t think you even processed that moment or even realized what you were doing until—

“who are you?”

something you asked twenty minutes after he had been in your home.

“i’m eddie.”

“i think i know you.”

“well i hope so since we’ve been in school together since middle school before you graduated.”

“right,” you narrowed your brows, but didn’t say anything else, not knowing what to even make of him.

you knew eddie, but he was never someone you had ever talked to or had any interactions with. you didn’t care for him; you found him obnoxious and practically repulsing when you were still in school together—but right now, by the way he was looking at you—you didn’t mind him at all.

his expression was soft and full of sympathy, like he understood what was going through your mind and why you seemed so…bipolar in emotions.

“y/n, eddie’s here to talk.”

“why?”

“because what happened to you, is exactly what happened to him.”

you still had narrowed brows as you stared at him, not knowing what to say. there was a small proportion of recognition that struck you when you stared at eddie, not nearly enough for you to trust him, nor enough for you to spill your guts out to him about how your boyfriend was practically castrated right in front of your eyes.

“you’re afraid?”

you slowly nodded your head, eyes wide, not understanding the willingness that has suddenly taken over you, “yes.”

he nods and you feel the need to continue to explain yourself.

“i can’t get that image out of my head. god, i don’t even know if it was…”

“real?”

“yeah.”

he nods again.

“you said you think you’re dying, why?” he sat right across from you on your carpeted floor, now eyeing you carefully with the same cautiousness you had in your own pupils.

“because… the things that were happening to brandon before he was fucking possessed… are happening to me.”

“what do you mean,” he starred at you strangely now, his head slightly tipping, watching you carefully just as the rest of them did.

“the bloodied noses, the nightmares, the headaches, that noise…” you cringed as you spoke, almost shying away from saying more.

“what noise?” robin was leaned forward on her knees, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“a clock.”

it seemed right as you said it, the sound echoed through the room and the lights begun to flicker till there was no light at all and the only breathing body was you.

“you’re fucking kidding me,” your head lifted toward the hallway that opened up to your living room; exactly where the noise was coming from.

this had only happened once before; the first day you had come back from college while you were throwing up in your childhood bathroom. you couldn’t figure it out, you had never been sick before—not like that, but then suddenly your world turned dark and the sound of that damned clock was one of the only things you could hear.

you got to your feet slowly, continuing to stare into the dark as the sound echoed throughout your now empty home. the sound was jarring and something about it made you want to follow it like the last time. you were losing your mind, you had to get out of there.

you turned, only for your body to match right up against an unintelligible one. one much larger than your own.

your eyes went wide immediately, feeling a scream rip through your throat as fear set in fast and your head tipped to see such a haunting face you had never seen before.

“hello, y/n,” it looked like it smiled, examining your frightened state, taking pleasure in it, as you stared back in a paralyzed state. “your time is running thin,” it took a step forward, closer and closer. “you will soon be mine.”

you back peddle, fast, not thinking, not processing, but soon landing on your ass and back into the light where you sat in the same place before but with a pair of hands on your face, with voices yelling and screaming you back to conscious.

you were in shock, your limbs were numb and you could barely keep yourself up in a sitting position. you were breathing hard like you had been holding your breath for the past minute, practically dry heaving, feeling your stomach fold up into itself in terror.

“what happened?” steve’s face was the only thing your could see as his hands clasped your face hard, his nose practically touching yours as he stared at you wide-eyed, dipped in fear.

you stared back, feeling every nerve slowly come back to life within your body—drawing out into a painful process. your body begun to shake, tears flooding into the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t even begin to process the switch between realities.

“steve, get out of her face, she’s going to throw up!” robin was yanking at his shoulder despite his constant persistence, clinging to your body.

“are you okay?”

everyone stood around you, wide eyes, wide with fear, wide with concern.

“are you okay?”

“what happened?”

“i was here, and then i wasn’t, but it’s like nothing changed other than you all being gone,” you stood now, guiding them all through the process of your episode, now that you could finally process what had just happened. “it was that sound, that fucking clock sound, and i turned and it was something, like something you’d see out of a fucking movie, like the weird alien-monster things we’ve seen before. i don’t know—”

“vecna.”

“what?”

“she saw vecna,” dustin looks between everyone who all have seemed to agree with this consolation.

“will someone please translate what he just said?”

“vecna,” steve repeated, glancing up to you from the sudden heavy gloom laid upon him. “he’s the reason everyone’s been dying lately, you see him, you’re in an automatic death sentence… but you already knew that…”

you starred at him in disbelief, your eyes switching between each teen that sat on your couch, as if asking whether that was true or not, but they all avoided eye contact--which spoke louder than words.

“you’re fucking with me,” you scoffed, turning on your heal and beginning to pace. “of fucking course.”

“you don’t seemed so… terrified about this anymore,” max is quick to elbow lucas in the ribs who winces.

you ignore it, suddenly annoyed at the swift depressive mood change, “how do we kill this motherfucker?”

“you’re not giving up on me, are you steve?”

“of course not.”

the two of you stood on your back porch after steve had lightly pulled you by the elbow, recommending catching some fresh air.

you don’t believe his words. he seemed tired with almost the look of sadness in his eyes. this observation causes you to frown as you tip your head, slightly coming closer to steve to look at him better, “then why does it look like you’re the one dying and not me?”

he scoffs, “y/n.” he gets taller, straightening his posture from where he was previously leaned on your railing. he turns even more serious and it makes you frown. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“what difference would it have made?”

“we could have caught it earlier.”

“and be in the same position as we are in now?”

he doesn’t say anything, but still stares at you with a look that makes your chest tighten and your skin begin to flare up in heat.

and then, “i’m sorry about brandon.”

he wasn’t. he never liked him.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that,” he takes a step closer to you, his hand now clasping your arm. “we’re going to figure this out, i promise.”

“don’t promise me anything, stevie,” your hand softly caressed his cheek, giving him a thinned lip smile before walking inside, leaving him to himself outside.

navigation.

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jahayla-parker · 3 years ago

Text

Golden Arrows: Nathan Drake x Reader

Anonymous Request: “You got home from work, you got voicemail from your friend, you were invited to wedding for tomorrow as a guest. Next day, you put your emerald satin strappy maxi dress, necklace, and short heel sandals and also wavy hair. you get in church, it was so lovely, very crowded, you walks as you bump into someone, who is wearing a suit, you never met him before. You clear your throat as you may have seat as he maybe could be besides you, after that you went to wedding reception, just drink a bit of glass of champagne, just look at view. Suddenly he came in to you, you two talks a lots at each other, you never met someone like him who is funny, charming and optimistic, then he take you home just as you thought it would”

Summary: 6.2k wc, reader attends an event that Nathan Drake (Nate) happens to be at as well but for a very different reason. What happens when the reader finds herself falling for Nate but he is there to steal an item from the reader?

Thank you my lovely little anon for your request! I tried to combine all the aspects you requested and kinda went way over haha.

Warnings: suggestive (but no smut), a few curse words, mentions of alcohol, stealing.

P.s. This is NOT thoroughly proofread as I am about to board my plane but wanted to post it first!

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

y/f/n: your friend’s name

y/f/e: your friend’s ex’s name

y/n/n: your nickname

and as always y/n: your name

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Dropping my keys into the coffee table, I slump into the leather couch and sigh. It’s been a long week, but at least tomorrow is the weekend and I’ll have time off. I sluggishly pull my phone out of my pocket and notice a missed call and voicemail from y/f/n. As exhausted as I am, I know I should listen as she doesn’t call unless it’s serious.

“Y/n! You’re going to y/f/e’s wedding with me tomorrow! I ran into him today and was invited with a plus one. I can’t show up alone but don’t have time for a date! Plus I’ll need emotional support, no arguments! I’ll pick you up at 3!” Y/f/n screams over voicemail. I sigh and run my hands through my hair.

Y/f/n has gotten me out of many uncomfortable situations before, at least now I can finally return the favor. That’s not to say I’m excited, I’d much rather stay home and rest. Accepting my fate, I get up and prepare my outfit for tomorrow.

I settle on the best, yet also most revealing dress in my closet, a pair of 1 inch heels, and a set of golden accessories including my late mother’s golden arrow necklace. After setting the outfit out on my bed in front of me, I smile approvingly. I might as well make the most of the night, and maybe get some free drinks.

The lighting in the restroom is reflecting mesmerizingly off my spaghetti-strapped, vibrant silk dress that is dyed a deep emerald color. I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. My dress has a plunging neckline, a bodycon-like waist, and an elegant yet sultry cut up the right leg. The whole dress stops a few inches off the ground, just short enough to show off my gold 1 inch open heel sandals, and freshly painted emerald toenails. I smirk to myself. I may not be an overly confident woman often, but today I’m feeling great about myself.

After finishing my final makeup touches, I carefully put on my mother’s necklace and the rest of my gold accessories. I smile at myself once again, loving the confidence this outfit has given me. I notice my fake lashes and cherry red lipstick make my facial features pop. My wavy hair stopping just above my shoulders.

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I roll my eyes as y/f/n continues to flirt with the older man who requested to buy her a drink when we get to the reception. The man is at least 20 years older than us. It isn’t much of a pickup line given there are free drinks even now as we mingle before taking our seats. Yet, it seems to work. “Go have fun” she says as she catches me watching her. I sigh, I came here for her, only to find myself alone.

The church for the wedding ceremony is beautiful, but it is so crowded it’s hard to even see the stained glass windows sounding the wall. The wooden pews are freshly sealed and shiny. I try to push through the crowd to get to my seat without making a scene, but unfortunately there are too many people. I bump into or rub against person after person as I progress towards my seat.

“Sorry, please -“ I say, beginning to request to pass once again as I bump into yet another attendee. However, I find my words cut short when I look up long enough to take him in. He’s my exact height, actually probably a bit taller given my heels. His gorgeous brown eyes hold a mysterious glimmer. I watch as his eyes meander over my body, slowly glancing down to my short heels and intently scanning back upwards towards my face. I bite the inside of my lip and smirk as I watch his walnut colored eyes return to mine. He instantly flushes crimson but tries to play it off by holding his hand out to me.

“I’m Nathan, but you can call me Nate” he says with this alluring voice. I take my time exploring his body with my eyes, the way he did mine. He is wearing matte black dress shoes, a midnight blue suit with matte black accents and lapels, his jacket buttoned at the bottom of his torso. Under his jacket is a white dress shirt that is firmly pressed against his chest and a black tie. I gingerly bring my eyes up to his again before letting him take my hand in his palm. His flirtatious eyes sparkle as they glance at my lips before he hangs his head to kiss the back of my hand.

“I take it you do this often?” I ask, clearing my throat and raising my eyebrow at him while shaking my head softly. “Do what?” He asks, pretending to be puzzled. I roll my eyes as I let my hand slip from his and back down to rest just above the slit in my dress. “Flirt with women at weddings” I retort, glancing around the crowded room. “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” He asks, his eyes quickly taking in my mother’s necklace. “That’s not what I asked” I point out, placing my left palm against my hip as I adjust my stance.

“Hmm, well no. I don’t normally even attend weddings. After all I don’t really see the point in such a charade” he says, grabbing two glasses of champagne from the waiter walking around trying to keep people calm as we wait to be told to take our seats. “Charade?” I ask, accepting one of the champagne glasses from Nate. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you. I’m not sure your relationship with the couple. It’s just I don’t see the point in marriage, it requires one to rely on another person so strongly and trust that they won’t abandon them or the relationship. In my experience, I don’t see that being common in families or relationships so I fail to see why marriage would change that” he says, throwing back his champagne. “I can understand that perfectly. It definitely makes it harder when your trust and emotions are wrapped up in someone else’s presence in your life” I agree, sipping on my drink as I feel the weight of my mother’s golden necklace weigh down on my neck as if hearing our conversation.

I sense Nate’s eyes examining said necklace as though he knew the connection it has to my statement. Not caring to talk about my mother or her necklace, I finish my champagne in one gulp. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should get to my seat” I say, handing him the glass and stepping to his left to pass. “Wait!” He says, turning and delicately grasping my wrist. I don’t turn around but instead turn my neck over my shoulder to look at him. He is biting his lip and staring at me. “Yes?” I ask, turning my body a bit more towards him. “You never told me your name” Nate answers.

I nod twice, “Y/N”. He smiles wide enough to show his snowy white teeth. I can’t help but smile back. He opens his mouth appearing to want to say something before he quickly raises his hand to scratch his right inner ear and sighs. “Well, I’ll see you around” I say, not sure what more there is to do and begin to walk to my seat. “I know… I know” I hear Nate mumble softly. “I couldn’t quite make that out. What was that?” I ask, turning around as he interrupts my approach yet again.

“Oh, uh.. I was just talking to myself about how I shouldn’t let you sit by yourself. Especially when you don’t care for weddings either” he says, striding closer. Not fully believing him, I anxiously take hold of my mother’s necklace and run my finger absentmindedly over the intricate carvings along the arrow charm. She never told me where she got it, always saying I was too young to hear the story, but I know it was her favorite necklace.

When she went on another work trip to some other country, she decided I was old enough to keep it safe until she returned. Granted I still wasn’t old enough to be told anything about the necklace, but at least she had begun to trust me with it. She had placed it cautiously around my neck when we said our goodbyes 7 years ago. That was the last time I saw or heard from her, or even about her until her coworker showed up and told me she died on the work trip. Once again, I was not told anything more about what happened, where the trip was, or even what it is my mom does for work.

“Umm thank you, but I’m actually sitting wi-“ I begin as I come back to my senses and face y/f/n but she has her eyes locked on me and is signaling behind Nate’s back to sit with him. “Actually, sure” I say, rubbing the engravings once more before letting go of the necklace and letting it lay against my chest once again. He smiles and holds his hand out for me. I feel my cheeks flush and politely accept his direction and assistance even though I don’t need it.

“See, told you” Nate snickers, his arm draped over my shoulder as he points to the aisle next to me. Just as he predicted, the bridesmaids are wearing horrendously vibrant pink dresses with cheap chunky jewels and sequins. I bite my lip to not laugh loudly, instead letting a small giggle escape. I turn to face him and we hold eye contact for awhile as he smiles at me, his arm still behind my neck.

“Woah she looks beautiful!” I hear the young girl on the other side of me say just as the music changes to a different song and the bride enters the room. “She’s not the only one” Nate whispers, dragging his hand a bit back towards him but still on me; just more center on the back of my neck this time. I smirk “you really shouldn’t hype yourself up like that ya know. Girls like confidence but that’s just cocky” I joke. His eyes widen before realizing I’m joking. He laughs and shakes his head, “I was talking about you”. I feel his fingers dance over the back of my neck playfully but his gaze never leaves mine.

Nate looks down at his lap as his free hand goes back up to his right ear again, “I can’t do this” he says quietly. “I know, we already discussed that” I tease. “What?!” He asks, his head instantly raising to look at me. “Getting married, we already said how neither of us understands the point of it. That is what you’re talking about right?” I ask in a hushed tone as the ceremony progresses before us. “Oh, yeah, right” he laughs timidly. “Well, relax Nate, it isn’t like anyone here is forced to go home with someone other than him” I say, pointing to y/f/e. He remains silent so I glance over at him and see him smirking as he watched me closely, “forced, no”.

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“He’s cute, who is he?!” Y/f/n asks gleefully as she sips on the drink the man she snuck away from bought her. “His name is Nate” I laugh, not divulging any more information. She winks, “are you thinking of going home with him?”. I play coy and shrug, knowing she’ll cause a scene if I outright tell her I’m tempted. “Well, better go get cozy again” she says, tipping her glass in his direction.

I finish my champagne as I round the buffet tables, headed towards the hall where Nate is leaning up against a wall. Setting my glass down on the table nearest to me, I take a deep breath and touch my necklace for good luck. “You don’t get it Sully! It isn’t that I logistically can’t do it. It is that I don’t want to, it clearly means something to her. Plus, she m-“ Nate says, and only now do I notice the phone in his hand. I pause behind him, as I am not wanting to interrupt and also out of curiosity.

“I know, but we need to figure something else out, I’m not pick pocketing Y/N’s necklace Sully. I won’t do it” Nate says angrily. I feel a tightness in my chest and take a shaky breath as I clutch my mother’s arrow charm even tighter in my left hand. Nate seems to hear me as he quickly turns around and gives me a remorseful look. I clench my teeth and use my empty hand to smack his irritatingly enchanting face. “Fuck you Nate” I say, spinning on my heels so fast I’m surprised I don’t fall. However, the anger and betrayal I feel keeps me upright as I stalk out of the hall and back into the reception center.

Y/f/n is still chatting with the guy from before. I guess I need to just wait it out. However, the pain in my chest won’t leave and tears begin to form at the idea of something happening to the last piece of my mother I have left. When she died, her coworker scavenged the apartment and took most of the things from her locked office. Whereas the social workers who picked me up refused to let me take anything more than a weeks worth of clothes from my bedroom. I found out later that week that the bank took possession of the house thereafter and sold everything. This unique yet unimportant necklace is all I have left of her, and Nate, some random man I met at a random person’s wedding hit on me and was kind just to steal it?! Anger and more sadness bubbles up inside of me and I decide I need to do something about it.

I stomp over to the bar and quickly ask for the strongest drink they have. The man behind the bar nods and promptly starts to make the drink. “You’re not even going to check her ID?” I hear a firm, yet somehow annoyingly warm voice asks. My brain instantly connects the voice to the man; Nate. I refuse to turn around and acknowledge his presence. The bartender glances up, “are you under 21?” He asks me. “No, ignore him” I groan, reaching into my clutch to pull out my ID. “Says she’s over 21” the bartender says, handing it back.

“You don’t think she’d have a fake ID? Rookie mistake. Don’t lose your license over her wanting to prematurely drink” Nate says, placing his hand on my lower back in an attempt to lead me away from the bar. The bartender gives me a look that tells me Nate won. I glare at Nate and pick up the pace to get away from him. “Y/N, wait, please “ he calls out after me.

“What the hell was that?!” I ask pointing aggressively towards the bar. Nate shrugs, “he doesn’t make it right anyways, it wouldn’t have tasted good”. I narrow my eyes at him even more, “that wasn’t the point! I don’t care what it tastes like”. He sighs, “because the intent was to get intoxicated”. I give him a look that causes him to straighten his back more, “you’re the reason behind that and yet you ruined that too”. Nate frowns, “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, but can’t we just talk about this? I can explain-“.

“Explain?! Fine Nate, explain to me why you thought I wouldn’t be hurt by you attempting to steal my mother’s necklace from me. The one thing I have left of the dead woman I used to rely on 7 years ago!” I scream. Nate’s eyes widen and his expression looks even more ashamed and remorseful than he did in the hall when I caught him. Before he can attempt to respond, I’m speaking again, “Explain why is this random necklace so important that you would go through the whole charade this evening!?”

This time, Nate responds before I can continue yelling at him, “charade?!”. “Yes Nate, the charade of you acting like you were interested in me, like you wanted to get to know me, and like you gave a damn about me!” I glare, really resenting not being able to have had a drink before this. “Y/N, that wasn’t a damn charade!” He argues, reaching out to grab my hand. I step back, still glaring at him. If I keep this up, I’m definitely going to have a headache tomorrow from the tension above my eyes. He sighs and closes his eyes. “No?! You really expect me to believe it wasn’t a ploy to get my necklace?!” I argue. His eyes quickly open and he meets my eyes.

“If you recall, you bumped into me! I didn’t even notice you had the collier reine des flèches until after I was enthralled by you” Nate says, refusing to break eye contact. I open my mouth to object but he continues. “Look Y/N, I get it, I do. I didn’t know what the collier reine des flèches meant to you. But even before that I stopped even considering trying to take it because I knew it was wrong and I couldn’t do that to you. And I promise I’m not going to change my mind on that, regardless on if you forgive me or not” he rambles on.

“What is that?” I ask, noticing he’s mentioned it twice. “What is what?” He asks, seemingly surprised that that is what I focused on from his statement. “The French sounding thing you said” I say, relaxing my eyes. “You knew it was French but not what it means?” He asks intrigued. “My mom taught me clue to pick up on what language someone is speaking even without an accent. Now your turn” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He laughs softly and nods, “It is the name of that there necklace” he says, pointing at my mother’s gold necklace and intricate arrow charm dangling off of it. I try to think if there are any words in the name that sound familiar. I learned a little French since my mom was always speaking it in her office. But, I never knew enough to understand full sentences nor learn what she was talking about. “It’s rough translation is ‘queen of arrows necklace’. It dates back centuries and used to belong, as its name suggests, to Queen Marceline Kybele” Nate explains after noticing my confusion.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask, cautious of his motivations still. He may have decided not to take it earlier but this could be another ploy to get me to lower my guard. “I guess you could say I am a treasure hunter and the collier reine des flèches is a crucial relic said to unlock the path to Queen Kybele’s hidden gem chest” he says slowly. “Why is she called the queen of arrows if her chest is full of gems?” I ask aloud before I can stop myself. Nate smirks a bit before smiling, “her army only ever used arrows to defend the kingdom and the shovels her gem seekers used to dig up said gems were shaped as arrows both in regards to the blade, which was a downwards arrow, and the handle which was a dull upwards facing arrow”.

While I get the sense Nate is saying all of this to show off, I can’t help but be intrigued. I never knew exactly what my mom did, but I knew it had to do with artifacts from other countries; hence the language lessons. “Why would my mom have this?” I question, asking my more important question this time. “Why, I’m not sure. How, has an easier answer” Nate says. I raise my eyebrow, “are you suggesting she stole it?”. “Y/N, I wish I could tell you no, but from now on I’m not going to lie or hide anything from you” he says kindly.

I’m still hesitant to trust him but something in his eyes is so assuring. Regardless of whether I can trust him or not, I need to try and understand as much as I can about the necklace and my mother. It seems he may know more about her than I do. “And that means it is okay to steal it back?” I ask, taking a seat at one of the decorated tables surrounding the ballroom floor.

“It was an excuse I gave myself. You’re telling me you’ve never done something just to get by?” Nate asks, sitting next to me. “I’m not saying that in the slightest,” this causes Nate to smirk, “I’ve done plenty I didn’t care for in order to keep a roof over my head and feed myself after I aged out of the system”. Nate’s hands stop tapping the table as he watches me even more scrutinizingly. “You were in the system?” He asks. I nod, “and don’t you dare give me that look of pity everyone gives when they find out”. He shakes his head with a chuckle, “no, I get it. I was too, so no pity from me”. I give him a nod, “okay, good, no pity. I’m still trying to decide if I like you or not, the last thing I need is you feeling sorry for me”.

“I can’t believe it” I say, pushing my chair back from the table by extending my arms and sliding back. “Y/N,” Nate says, standing up. “No.. I… I’m not mad at you. Well, still irritated, but after all of this” I say, waving my hand around in the air as if one could point to the long conversation we just had. “I’m not mad and I’m starting to trust you. Well, at least what you say. I just…. I can’t… you know more about my mom than I do or ever did” I say shaking my head to myself. “Hey, come here” he says, inching closer and taking me into a hug, “I’m sure that’s not true”.

“Nate?” I ask, stepping out of his arms as the song ends and I notice hardly anyone else was dancing. It was Nate’s suggestion to take my mind off my mom. “Yes?” He inquires, squeezing my hand. “How did you know the necklace would be here?” I ask. “Oh, Sully got a tip from someone who mentioned it would likely be present tonight. Granted, we didn’t know it would be on someone, and if it was we’d assumed it would’ve been the bride” he says, softly tugging on my hand to bring me closer to him again.

I smile as I rest my head on his shoulder as his hands adjust until one is holding mine and the other is around my lower back. I drape my my free arm under his and rest the palm of my hand on his shoulder as we sway back and forth. “Are you feeling any better?” He asks quietly and I can feel his breath against my exposed neck. “A little” I say, smirking as I press my face further into his shoulder. He chuckles lightly before I feel his lips press against my bare shoulder, “good”.

“The newlyweds want to remind everyone to sign the guest book in the back corner of the room” the DJ says, ending the peace I found with Nate. My attention is brought back to my surroundings as I lift my head off his shoulder and loosen my grip on him. “You’re wanting to sign the book?” Nate asks surprised. “No.. I just….” I mutter, trying to compose my thoughts on the task at hand and not on Nate or funny and optimistic he is.

You’d think a man cynical of marriage to be pessimistic, but he’s not. Nathan tried his best to be optimistic for me when it came to my mom and the mysteries that suddenly seem to surround my life now. He is also endearing and charming, going so far as to assure me that he’d help me find the answers to all those mysteries and questions I now have.

“Y/N?” Nate asks, stroking my face tenderly. I snap out of my distracting thoughts only to look up at his equally if not more distractingly handsome features. “What seems to be on your mind presently?” he asks, “maybe I can help”. “Do you know who the tip came from?” I ask, glancing across the hotel ballroom we’re in at my only suspect.

I feel guilt rise in me as I even consider the possibility it could be her, but no one else knew I had this necklace or paid any mind to it if they did. “Ummm… one sec” Nate says, fishing in his jacket pocket for his phone. “Ahh here it is, someone named y/f/n” he says, “and here is their photo” he adds holding up his phone. Upon hearing his confirmation and seeing her face on his screen, the guilt I felt immediately dissipates and turns into anger instead. “I’m going to kill her” I growl, stepping back from Nathan.

“Y/N, you know her?” He asks and before I can tell him how stupid I think that question is, I remember he didn’t know the necklace would be on anyone, just that it would be in the building. Meaning he had no way of knowing the tip would be someone I’d know. When I don’t respond Nate follows my gaze as I stare across the room in fumes at her betrayal. Nathan didn’t know what the necklace meant to me, and even before then he changed his mind and didn’t actually take it. Y/f/n on the other hand knew full well the value I placed on the necklace and willingly went behind my back. “Oh shit” Nate mumbles, grabbing my hand, “come on, let’s just go”.

I shake my head, staring over at her even as I feel Nate’s eyes focused on me and his breath against my skin. “I have something I need to do” I say, slipping my hand from his and heading towards y/f/n. “Y/n/n, you know you can’t actually kill her right?” Nate asks, speed walking to keep up with my prowl. “I know” I respond sharply, irritated he’s trying to limit what I’m doing once again. I may not have actually been on my way to kill her, but between the drinks and this, it’s getting frustrating. “I’m just trying to make sure because I care about you and don’t want you to make a rash decision you’ll regret” he says, slipping his hand into mine as he catches up. His words cause me to slow but not stop. I nod in appreciation as we finally close in on y/f/n.

“Nate, how have you been?” the older man from earlier asks as he and y/f/n take notice of our arrival. My eyes quickly dash over to Nate who just squeezes my hand while glaring at the older man. “Nate? Who is this?” I ask, trying to trust the Nate I feel I’ve come to know, but the intensity of the situation makes it difficult. “Y/N, meet Sully” he says, his eyes never leaving Sully. Nate told me about his business/treasure hunting partner -Sully- during our conversation earlier this evening. “It’s a pleasure Y/N” Sully says, holding his hand out towards me. Nate tugs on my hand but after everything Nate told me, I already know better than to trust Sully. “That’s a beautiful necklace you have there” Sully says.

Nate tugs backwards on my hand again before dropping it and standing slightly in front of me. Shielding me, and the necklace, from Sully. “Nate, it’s fine, I’m just admiring it” Sully says, looking between the two of us; likely trying to figure out if I know what he and Nate had planned. “Sully, stop. You need to leave her alone. I’m serious. Plus, she already-“ Nate protests, inching over to cover more of me.

“No Nate, like Sully said, it’s fine” I say, placing my hand on Nate’s back in between his shoulder blades. Nate gives me a sideways glance, confused and silently pleading for me to step back. Ignoring him and feeling all of my emotions from today rise up, I remove my hand from his back and reach behind my neck. “Y/N, what are you-“ Nate questions, reaching for my hand.

I unclasp my mother’s necklace and ball it up into the palm of my hand, feeling the point of the arrow pierce my skin. “This clearly means more to you guys than it does to me. I couldn’t care less about the damn thing anymore. I’m tired of the secrecy and lies that have been plaguing my life longer than I even could have imagined. So here, do with it as you please. It, “ I say, grabbing Sully’s hand and dropping the necklace into it. “And you,” I add, facing y/f/n “are both dead to me. Enjoy” I say, walking off.

I take yet another shaky breath this evening as I slip out onto the terrace. Part of me feels missing and empty without the necklace, but part of me feels relieved. It was the last thing I had of my mother, but it also was the thing that caused so much insanity and lies; even from my mother. I decide to settle on the belief it is better off with Sully, and Nate, should he choose to return to their original plan to use it to find the gems.

I let my eyes lazily wander across the landscape before me. The dark sky being lit up only through the lights of the party and the stars in the sky. It is oddly calming and certainly romantic, I can see why they chose this venue. I cross my arms and lean forward to rest them on the terrace railing. “You really should be careful doing that” I hear Nate’s voice call out. He says it in a whisper, but it is so silent out here that it sounds normal. “And you, should really stop trying to make decisions for me” I respond, leaning against the railing more in retaliation.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s clear you are capable of taking care of yourself. As I said earlier, I care for you. Which means I don’t want to see you get hurt, even through your own choices” Nate states, standing next to me. I nod as I stare into the twinkled abyss before us. “But, I realize I need to step back a bit and let you make your own decisions” he says, handing me a drink. I glance over at him and thank him as I take notice of the champagne.

“It was truly the best option they had left” he says as I take the glass from him. I laugh and smile at him before sipping on my drink. “Unless you want my beer” he offers, holding it out to me. “I’m good, thanks” I say, scooting closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind me doing this one last thing” he says as he sets his beer down on the patio table. Before I can turn to face him, he is behind me with his arms over my shoulders as he grabs something from his left hand with his right as they connect above my chest. I can feel his breath warming up my neck as his fingers slowly pull in their respective directions and around to the back of my neck.

The dark makes it impossible to see, but the weight and feeling is so similar I know in an instant it is my mother’s necklace he is holding. “Nate?” I ask barely audibly as I reach up with my free hand to rub the carvings. “Hmmm?” he asks as his fingers and breath tickle the back of my neck while he fastens the clasp. “What’re you doing?” I ask, shocked to have the necklace back, let alone from Nate. “Returning it to where it belongs” he whispers, placing a soft kiss to the backside of my neck.

I feel my breath catch in my throat as I turn to face him. I quickly place my drink down next to his. Presumably with tears in my eyes, I smile at him and wrap my arms around his neck. “What happened to finding the gems?” I ask curiously. He gives me a smile, the left of his lips curling upwards more than the right, “some things are more important”. I mentally thank the universe for it being so dark out here as I’m sure my cheeks are neon red.

I lean forwards and connect my lips with his, causing Nate to smile as he kisses me back. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your adventure though” I admit. He shakes his head and wraps his arms around the small of my back, “this one seems better. Besides, we could always look for it together”. I hum, drawing shapes on his back with my finger, “you know you could have just kept the necklace and then you wouldn’t need me to go with you”.

“I realize. But you seemed really interested in the history of it, most people zone out when I ramble like that” he laughs, moving one hand up to trace my jawline. “Besides, if I’m stuck looking for Queen Kybele’s treasure with Sully, I’d like you to keep me company” he says, and I swear despite the darkness he is blushing. I smile and pull him in for another kiss.

Nate uses his arm on my lower back to pull me to him as his tongue dances over my bottom lip. I open my mouth enough to let it enter as I raise my hands to his hair. He moans as I softly tug on the back of his head. I smirk and remove my mouth from his before lowering my lips to his neck. He instinctively holds me even tighter as he backs up into the brick wall behind him. I have just begun to place teasing kisses on his neck when he abruptly pulls back to create distance.

“Nate?” I ask, my hand trailing down his chest. He takes a deep breath and stares deeply into my eyes, “is this just because of everything that happened tonight?”. I shake my head no. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you mom or y/f/n or how much you’ve had to drink?” He checks, holding my hand. Once again I shake my head no, smiling at how sweet and considerate he’s being. I elect to ignore the fact that I have hardly had anything to drink; in part thanks to him.

“Okay, so you’re not just in need of a distraction? Because you don’t have to do this,” he says softly. “I’m sure Nate. But if you don’t want me to-“ I begin, but he cuts me off “no! I want you to, I want us to, I just want to make sure there aren’t any issues with why you changed your mind” he responds. “Who said I changed my mind? Last I recall, I said I was trying to decide if I liked you” I tell him, my fingers hooking onto his tie as I form a grip around it.

“And... I’ve reached my decision” I tell him, using his tie to pull his head forward until our lips meet. He smirks into the kiss and quickly swipes his tongue back over my mouth. I as open my mouth in response, I keep one hand gripped on his tie and the other moves back to his hair again.

“So, does this mean you’d like to go with us to find Queen Kybele’s treasure” Nate asks as we part for air. “I’ll think about it, how about you show me why I should” I smirk causing the taunting glimmer in his eyes to flicker as he smiles and pulls me against his body. “Okay, but Sully isn’t joining this adventure” he laughs. “Nate!” I yell, smacking his chest playfully.

He grabs my wrist from his chest and holds it over my head as he presses me against the wall, his lips coming down to meet mine. “You have a deal, why don’t we take this somewhere more private where I can show you” he says, his lips against my jaw. “Every” his lips move to my chin, “single” lips moving to the skin below my ear, “reason” lips on my neck. I let out a low moan as he sucks on the skin of my neck. “You have yourself a deal” I paraphrase him as I take advantage of our position to wrap my legs around his waist.

#tom holland x reader #Nathan drake #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake fanfiction #tom holland nathan drake #nate drake x reader #uncharted #tom holland uncharted #tom holland uncharted fanfiction #requests #my writing #little lovely anons

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stopthatnel · 3 years ago

Text

No Need To Be Direct (p2)

NSFW!

A/N: Literally no one asked for this but I wanted to and I’m currently having Gojo brain rot rn. Also Nanami is my main sling, but for the sake of this think of an AU where he doesn’t mind working late lol. ALSO I’m rusty on the whole writing thing so bear w me.

wc: 4.7k

m.list

tw: infidelity, pet names (princess, sweetheart, etc), fingers in your mouth (like once), choking (also like once), drinking, lying, degradation, praise, use of ‘sir’, begging, dirty talk, oral (f receiving, mention of m receiving but nah), low key a breeding kink (you tell me), creampies, you tell me if im missing any!

Part one here. p3.

It had been about a week since your… situation with Gojo happened. He pretended like nothing happened after, and you two continued to enjoy your day, as if the tension wasn’t there. He drove you home, walked you to your door, and left with a hug. Part of you contemplated inviting him in, but given the events that had transpired a few hours ago, you decided against it. Until you cleared your mind and figured things out, at the very least.

Nanami was sprawled out on the couch, while you were in the kitchen whipping up a quick lunch. Nanami was never fond of big meals, he preferred to keep himself light. However, this didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a delicacy, especially if he had the time. The TV played the local news, serving as background noise, as Nanami scrolled aimlessly throughout his emails.

“Do you want to eat at the table?” You called out, peering over to steal a glance at him. “It’s up to you.” He mumbled, just loud enough to hear. You sighed and brought over the plates and utensils, rushing back to grab two glasses. Whiskey on ice, and a glass of aged riesling.

“Lunch is ready!”

Nanami walked over, joining you at the table. He gently grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It looks wonderful.” He hums. You both ate in silence, an exception made for the clattering of utensils. You clear your throat, pushing your plate away from you, while pulling your wine glass towards you. “How’s work?” You ask, almost dreadingly. Nanami smiles,

“It’s great actually! This promotion has definitely given me the opportunity to focus on the technical aspect of the job. Of course, it doesn’t eliminate actually being out in the field, but it’s definitely a best of both worlds.” You manage a smile, and nod. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Nanami cocks his brow, oh no.

That’s very unlike you. Nanami knows, in great detail, of your disdain towards his work. He knows the work itself was never the issue, but definitely the amount of time it takes. “I’ve missed you.” You say. Nanami looks up at you with an unreadable emotion on his face. He chuckles, “I’m right here baby.”

You tighten your grip on your glass, “I know. And here I am, still missing you.” What is he not getting? It felt as though he was oblivious to you. “(Y/N),” he sighs, not this again. What couldn’t you understand? He works to provide. There isn’t a single thing that you ask for that he can’t get for you, he’ll go to the end of the world to bring you a tart if you asked for it. If you said jump, he’d only ask how high. Money doesn’t grow on trees, so how could you expect him to give up his work?

Ding.

Nanami glanced down at his phone, only to see a message from none other, Kiyotaka.

New Message

Kiyotaka: Semi-Grade 1 cursed energy detected in Shibuya Prefecture. Please hurry, I will send you coordinates shortly.

Nanami stood up abruptly, making his way over to the bedroom. He quickly gets dressed and heads for the door only to find you standing there with his keys in your hands. Your brows are furrowed, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You seethe.

“(Y/N), I don’t have time for thi-“

“You NEVER have time, Nanami.”

He grabs your shoulder and gently takes his keys from your hand. “Please (Y/N). We can talk more when I get home, I prom-“ a scoff escapes your lips. You wipe your eyes, smooth your hair down, and take a deep breath.

Whatever grip you had on this matter has snapped, there was no longer any willpower to continue arguing on the subject. He will never listen. An almost eerie smile curled at your lips, as you looked up at him with a mind numbing stare. “Go ahead, Nanamin. Go beat some curse ass.”

You walk away from the door to your bedroom, leaving a confused, but still rushed, Nanami at the door. The door slams and the engine revs in the driveway, until you can’t hear it down the street.

Whatever. What did I even expect?

————

Gojo sat in his bedroom, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram. Liking a few pictures here and there and ultimately just passing time.

For what?

Since that day, he’d been itching to hear from you once again. He didn’t want to encourage your behavior, he wanted you to come to your own conclusions; that you craved him as much as he craved you. You could play your part in Nanami’s domesticated fantasy, but all good things come with a catch. And Gojo knew what the catch was. He’s known you since you were an intern, before the fancy dinner dates. He’s watched you go from throwing back as many drinks as you could possibly handle to abiding your time aimlessly in the little condo your boyfriend owned. He remembers on the nights out with him, you’d come stumbling back to your booth,

“Toruu, give me a hug!”

Attention was all you ever wanted, and he knew, if you couldn’t get it from one person, in no time you’ll be searching for it in another. A text message dinged on his phone and he quickly glanced up to see who it was. A smile formed on his lips as he realized it was none other than you.

New message

(Y/N): Hey, are you busy?

Gojo set his phone down on the dresser and got up, making a slow trip to his kitchen. He grabbed a glass, filled it with water and proceeded to make what was typically a one minute walk into two. The Princess could wait, he chuckles to himself. Piece by piece, everything began to fall into place. He picked up his phone and messaged back.

Gojo: Not anymore, what can I do for you sweetheart?

All of Gojo’s moves were calculated. He knew Nanami knew your password, and he didn’t want any more trouble than you did.

Ding.

New message

(Y/N): I need some cheering up.

Gojo: Why don’t you come over in about an hour? I’ll order some take out, you bring the wine. Although I do have some vodka, if you can still hang that is. ;)

New Message

(Y/N): Please, mr I get drunk off a bud light seems to have the nerve.

Gojo scoffed, before tapping at his keyboard dramatically.

Gojo: I swear on whatever, that bud light tasted like rubbing alcohol.

Ding.

New message

(Y/N): Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you soon hotshot.

Gojo smiled and stretched his arms out, locking his phone and dropping it on the bed. Some cleaning wouldn’t hurt, he thinks.

—————

You found yourself sitting in front of your mirror in only a towel, wondering if this was the best thing for you to do. Since settling down with Nanami, most of your social life had dwindled, leaving you but three friends to your name. One of them moved upstate to spend time with their grandparents, and the other has a child demanding every second of their time. Which only left you with one person, the same person who had you drinking a smoothie with your thighs clenched to the heavens.

Despite your argument with Nanami, the cold shower you took unironically helped you cool down. But the anger inside of you was filling a void you didn’t know existed. One of many layers, and the top one was Nanami himself. It’s not like I’m going there with the intent to fuck him, you think, I’m just in need of some comfort of a friend. Your lacy undergarments said otherwise.

You slipped on a fitted black tank top and a pleated white tennis skirt. You grabbed a tote on your way out your room to the kitchen, and carefully placed the bottle of wine you had opened earlier that day. You rolled your eyes, in growing resentment. Couldn’t even finish my wine, you think, glancing over at your glass. Opening your fridge, you grabbed the leftover pie you had made over the weekend. You weren’t going to show up empty handed.

Grabbing one last look at yourself in the mirror by the door, you slip on your shoes and sigh. No intentions, (Y/N). You’re only going to hang out.

Upon arriving at Gojo’s, you find him already at the door waving his arms frantically. “(Y/N)! Hurry up the foods going to get cold!” You cock your brow and look around you, seeing the delivery driver getting in his car. You roll your eyes and quicken your step, “They literally just got here!” You exclaim back. “Hurry up!”

A short while later you find yourselves leaning over the kitchen island, each with a glass of wine, and laughing like there’s no tommorow.

“The little shit really thought he could one up you, huh?” You laugh, struggling to regain your breath. “The worst part is,” Gojo says between chews, “is that a part of me feels like he did! Don’t tell him I said that though, I’ll never live it down.” A comfortable silence consumed the air after the laughter had died down.

“So, what do you want to do?” You asked, dropping the crust of your third slice. “I mean the plan was to eat and get drunk. I don’t know about you, but wine isn’t the best to get shit faced on.” Gojo replies humorously.

”Like you’d know, your still on your first glass!” Admittedly, you were definitely between your third or fourth drink . Your body had grown hot, your cheeks were flushed, but you weren’t slurring your words or stumbling around. It would take a lot more than that to get you like that. Gojo scoffs, “Again, I’m saving room for the good stuff.”

“What’s the good stuff, Svedka?”

“Hey, Svedka might not be the most expensive but it’s damn sure an ol’ reliable.” You roll eyes and tap a finger nail on your glass, “Hit me, big boy.”

“Oh no, no, no. We’re doing shots, little girl.” He teases.

Before you know it, you and Gojo are on the ground in his bedroom, one too many shots in, playing an aggressive game of UNO.

Gojo was obviously cheating. How did you know? You just did. Because how else could he win three games in a row? You clutch your cards close to your chest, watching in disbelief as he throws down a plus four.

“Looks like round five is about to be all for me. We should start betting on these games! Make it more fun.” He exclaims, already pulling four cards out of the deck. “Slow down sir,” you mumble, looking through your hand, “I got something for that.”

“You can’t put down a plus two on a plus four, how many times do I have to say this?” Gojo whines.

“Right. So pick up eight.” You say confidently. “By the way, the color’s green.” Gojo stares at you in disbelief, rummaging through his hand before unwillingly picking up 8 cards. “This is complete bullshit.” He frowns. An uncontrollable giggle rips through you, “Does the poor baby not like a taste of his own medicine?”

Gojo remains silent, and there’s a sudden tension in the air. He rolls his shoulders back, cracking his neck slightly, motioning for you to play. The tension you felt was similar to that of the diner, which tugged at the strings in your stomach. No need to panic, you reassured yourself, nothing is happening. You play your card and notice a glimmer of mischief in the white haired man in front of you. He places a blank wild card on the pile,

“Pick up the entire deck, or take off your shirt. The color’s blue.” You tilt your head, something is definitely happening. “Take off my shirt? What?” You mimic. Gojo places his cards face down, and leans back onto his hands. “Or pick up the entire deck.” He repeats cooley. You eye the deck, that has to be at least 25 cards left, and you eye Gojo. He’s serious. It would’ve been obvious from miles away what the true intentions were, yet you kept convincing yourself otherwise. This man knew you craved the attention, harboring his proof from merely the week before. “Come on sweetheart, we don’t have all day.” Gojo chuckles.

When you think about it vaguely, you were drunk, and had zero to three against this man. Your competitive nature wouldn’t allow you to be demeaned to picking up that many cards, you were practically handing him a win. But when you look at it more detailed-

Fuck it.

Your hands reach inside your skirt, pulling your tank top from inside and over your head. The cool air hits your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your chest. Heat began to trickle down your thighs, as well as up to your cheeks. Gojo hums, returning back to his original position. “Did you wear that for me?” He asks slyly, hungrily eyeing your lacy bra. You choke a bit on your own spit, quickly putting down a card to avoid answering his question. “Your turn!” You blurt. Gojo tsked loudly, pushing the pile of cards to the side and pulling yours out of your hands. “Now (Y/N),” he leans closer. “You know I don’t like being ignored.” Gojo grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his sparkling eyes.

You feel your heartbeat quicken and breathing get heavier. “Did you wear that for me?” He repeats.

“Yes.”

Mere seconds after you utter your answer, Gojo is straddling your hips and enveloping you in a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped at his waist as his roamed your body, touching anything he could. His lips were warm, succulent, and desperate. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth and gave him dominance. He cups your cloth cladded breast and leans forward into you, pushing you down to the floor while holding himself up with his other hand. You feel your panties are getting soaked by the second, you’re arching your back to get as close to him as possible. Your mind roams all the ways you think this man could take you, would he be rough? Would he be gentle? Is he selfish? Is he giving?

Your thoughts are interrupted by Gojo pulling away from the kiss, only to find him fixated on your breasts. He runs his fingers over the lace and pulls the cups down exposing your nipples to his ravenous stare. “So pretty,” he mumbles, rolling the perked buds in between his fingers. Your breathing hitched and your eyes closed, desperate to be touched. “I- fuck… Gojo please...”

He quickly gets up, and extends his hand down to you. You grab his hand in confusion and eye him suspiciously when he takes a seat on the bed.

“Strip. I want to admire all of you.” You hastily get out of your clothing, except for your underwear, and take a step towards him. He grabs your hips and stops you, roughly tugging down the last remaining article of clothing. “You just don’t know how,” he begins, standing up and spinning you around to switch places, “to take some fucking directions, huh?” A whimper falls from your lips as you fall back onto his bed. You look at him with pleading eyes, a feeling that’s taken too long for you to remember, the desire of being ravished. Gojo was staring intently, practically fucking you with his eyes only. He slowly drops to his knees, and begins feathering kisses down your thighs, right below your sex. Your hips roll forward in hopes of getting Gojo closer to where you want him to be. He takes the supple skin of your thighs in between his teeth and nips softly, causing you to whimper.

“Open those legs for me princess, let me see that pretty pussy.” You oblige happily and scoot down a bit, your heat aching for his touch. “Oh fuck…” Gojo groans, “You’re so wet for me baby, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me, how much have you been thinking about this?” You whimper in response and bring your hands up to your face. You don’t want to admit how much you’ve thought about this, it was embarrassing. You thought about every way this man could please you, as selfish as it seems. You wanted nothing more in that moment to be falling apart in his hands. A sharp smack sounded against your folds, causing you to yelp. “Answer me.” He commands.

“So much, sir. I’ve thought about it so much. I want you… so bad right now.” You whine. Gojo chuckles, “I can see that. Act up one more time and you’ll have to keep thinking about it.” He lifts your thighs up and blows a cool breath onto your dripping cunt, squeezing them when you squirm. Taking his fingers, he slid them up from your hole to your bud and spread his digits to reveal it to himself. He gently wraps his lips around the nub, a sigh of relief filling the air. His tongue is tracing shapes, flattening, suckling, he’s eating you out as if though he’d never have the chance to do it again. Your hands reach into his locks, pulling him closer.

“Oh fuck,” he moans into you. “You’re so sweet, princess.” Gojo brings his fingers up to your hole, feeling it clench against nothing. You whine and arch your back, “Please Gojo-“ He pulls away from your heat. “What was it you were calling me earlier?”

“Sir?”

“Let’s keep that, yeah pretty?”

“Yes sir! Please sir, I wan-“

Gojo knew what you wanted. And he was going to give it to you. Starting with a single digit, he pushes into your cunt and groans at the sound of how wet you were. A moan falls from your lips and you tighten against his finger as he thrusts up against your sweet spot. “Fuck, yes, just like that sir!” You whine. A knot in your stomach began to form, your mind was swirling from the stimulation against your clit. He adds another finger, scissoring it within you in an attempt to stretch you out. You rut against his fingers and grab your breasts, pinching your nipples as you feel yourself coming closer to your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop! I’m gonna c-“

Gojo withdraws his fingers and puts his hands on your thighs, spreading them out. He proceeds to hollow his cheeks around your sensitive nub, drawing generous circles around your clit, all while you curl your toes and roll your eyes into the back of your head. A cry escapes your lips as you come undone; you tug at his hair and thank him repeatedly,

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Gojo smiles against your clit, relishing in how you’ve come apart with so little. “You must’ve been so frustrated, poor girl.” He says, as he gets up. He takes off his clothes achingly slowly, you might’ve just had some relief but that was just temporary. You needed more, you wanted to drain him of all he had to give you and then do it again. “That explains why you’ve been so needy, isn’t that so princess?” You whine and reach your hand down to your pussy, running your fingers through the sticky mess between your folds.

“Yes sir, I’ve been needy. I still am sir, I need more.” You say with pleading eyes. You lower your gaze to Gojo’s cock, which he has his fingers wrapped around the base. His cock is angry and swollen at the tip, leaking with precum. Before you could think to get on your knees and relieve him, he pushes your knees up further to your chest, holding you in a mating press. His large frame towers over you as he taps the head onto your clit, sliding it up and down taking the moisture you’ve generously supplied. “Hold them up for me.” He murmurs, lining his cock up to your entrance. In a swift motion he’s filling you up, and you’re clamping down on his cock in surprise. You cry out and spread your legs a bit in an attempt to get comfortable as Gojo begins thrusting in a torturous pace.

You take in the sight before you; a disheveled man with his head thrown back, filling you to the brim with all of his cock. His chest is glistening with sweat, his lips are plump and red, in the state of pure bliss. “Fuck, you’re so good…” he whines. His slow pace wasn’t for you, it was for him. He’s wanted this for so long, so badly. If anything, he was the needy one. He wanted to be the one to pump you full of his seed, and have you cumming over and over on his cock until you cried. Even then he wouldn’t stop. He wanted to have you broken, wrapped around his fingers forgetting all but him. But all of that came with discipline, and what would that mean if he took it all at that very moment, with no regard? Nothing.

An almost feral look took over his face as he grabbed your ankles for stability, and there it was. He slammed into your dripping cunt, basking in the sounds of the squelching against his pelvis and the cries falling out of your mouth. He brought down a hand to carefully flick the sensitive bundle of nerves between your folds, grinning when he heard your breath hitch. You’re squirming underneath him in a state of euphoria, eyes rolled back and shut, babbling over and over about what seemed like nonsense. Gojo takes the hand working dutifully at your clit to grab your face and yank it towards him.

“Look at me,” he growls. “I’m the one fucking you, yeah? Look at me, slut.” Your eyes unscrew themselves open as you stare into the cesspools of blue, pupils dilated and ravenous. He squeezes your cheeks together and shoves his fingers into your mouth, rewarding you with a smile when you suck them. “You’re so tight for me baby, this is all for me right?”

“Yes, sir! It’s for you, take all of it!” You cry around his fingers, tears pricking at your eyes. Gojo’s pace was relentless, it felt like he was molding your pussy to fit his cock and his cock only. It’s been so long since you felt such an unforgiving amount of desire and thrill and you knew this wouldn’t last forever, you savored every moment of it. His cock was mocking you, giving you something you could only hope to receive again. Unless you do it again. The thought of having multiple rendezvous with this man was enough to have you tightening around his cock and letting out a whine. Your fingers had turned white and slippery, your thighs slipping away from your hold as you dug your nails into them in an attempt to keep them still.

Gojo lets out a breathy chuckle, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and grabbing your face again. “Tell me sweetheart,” he begins, a devilish smile forming in his lips. She can only get this from me, Gojo thinks. “Is the old man not fucking you right? Is that why you're so needy? I feel you clenching around me, you’re about to cum. You need this, right?”

“Oh shit, shit- yes! I need you sir, I need you to keep fucking me like this, please!” Your mind has gone blank and you say only the things that’ll please him, because you’re a good girl. You feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter, his cock bullying that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly. “Fuck yes,” Gojo groans through grit teeth, “Cum on my cock, be a good girl. Shit, I can’t think straight, your little cunnys gripping me so tight-“

A gasp escapes your lips as you feel that tension snap, rolling your head back and closing your eyes. Gojo grabs your exposed throat and lets out a feral groan, “Look at me when you cum, let me see you cum princess.” Your eyes lock as he fucks you through your orgasm. His thrusts grow sloppy and desperate and you feel him twitch inside of you. “Can I cum in you, pretty?” He asks, leaning back and watching himself disappear and reappear in between your folds. “Mmm-“ you whine, overstimulated and still riding out the waves of your climax. Gojo leans forward and pushes your arms off your thighs, letting them fall at your sides as he places each arm down next to your shoulders.

Gojo places his lips against yours, slowing his pace until he got an answer. He presses his forehead gently against yours, maintaining your eye contact. “You gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up? Hmm?” He whispers as he watches the pleasure enveloping your face. “Yes, please. Fill me up with your cum, sir.” You whimper against his lips. A groan soon follows as Gojo stills his hips, pushing himself as deep as he could into you. He leans in for another kiss, splaying his fingers through your hair, wanting to absorb and savor the moment. He waited until you stopped clenching around him to pull out, admiring the state you were in.

He glances at the clock on his nightstand, 11:36pm. He knew it was late and that Nanami would’ve been home half an hour ago. Otherwise, you were one orgasm short of being fucked out. But he’ll save that for next time. He savors one last look at his work before rushing over to the restroom to grab some wipes. He comes back and cleans you up, peppering kisses across your thighs. “You did so good for me sweetheart. Next time we’ll see how much more you can take.” He murmurs between kisses. A sigh escapes your lips as you get up, “Then I can’t wait.” You say.

Your phone begins to ring, snatching you out of your blissful state. You scan your eyes around the room, seeing the brightness of the screen underneath your skirt which was tossed haphazardly near the bed. Gojo tosses your phone to you, and your heart seemingly stops when you see who it was.

Incoming call…

Nanami Bear <3

Your mouth dries up as your finger hovers over the decline button. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you mumble. If you didn’t answer the phone, that would only look suspicious. It’s been about forty minutes since Nanami’s first call, thirty from the last text. You quickly answered the call. “Hey! What’s up?” You say, feigning your happiness to answer the phone.

“Where are you?” Nanami deadpans. “I- I’m with Nikki! She finally got a babysitter for the night and we went out!” You stutter. Gojo squints his eyes at you before turning away to grab his shorts off the floor. She’s getting her brains fucked by someone who actually gives a fuck, he thinks. Nanami pauses on the other line, then takes a deep breath. “Come home.”

Click.

A feeling of sheer panic took over your body as you stumbled over your own feet trying to throw on your clothes. Your breathing was heavy as you searched desperately for your underwear, only for your gaze to settle on Gojo holding it up in the air in between his fingers. Why is he playing at a time like this? You think. You grab the underwear from him and shimmy them up your legs, giving him a hug, which you’ll definitely facepalm at later. “I’ll call you, but I have to go!” You yell as you’re at his door, throwing on your shoes.

On the drive home, you seemed to convince yourself that there’s no possible way Nanami could know where you were. You racked your brain to figure out a plan B, settling on something along the lines of you were upset and needed to cool off and went to get some drinks. You knew he’d worry if you said you were alone so you panicked and lied. Mostly the truth.

Nanami’s sitting at the dinner table, across from the dishes that have been left out since earlier that day.

“I called Nikki. She told me to tell you that she misses you, and would love to hang out. She says three weeks is too long for ‘best friends’ to not see each other.”

#gojo smut #gojou satoru x you #jjk smut #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk gojo

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taegularities · 4 years ago

Text

definition of love | kth (m)

Summary: “Burn yourself into my memory until I can’t escape you.”

When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

pairing: Taehyung x female reader

rating: 18+

genre: college!au, romance, e2f2l, angst, a lot of fluff, smut

warnings: past minor character death, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms, kissing/making out, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), vaginal fingering, kinda handjob, breast play, unprotected sex (the reader is on the pill - use protection, people), vaginal sex, sexual tension, ass grabbing, lots of flirting, pining, light swearing, taehyung is a book nerd!!

word count: 10.5k

a/n: HELLO! this fic is part of the “Golden Gift Event” (hosted by @btsgoldnetwork) - and is a gift for my lovely valentine @sunkissedjk! HAPPY LOVE DAY! you were so sweet all the time we “talked” and i’m kinda happy you gave me so much freedom :’D and i hope you like the end product! also, a huge thank you to my awesome beta readers @taetaesbaebaepsae, @unoriginal-username15432 & @voiceswithoutlips (who also made this BEAUTIFUL banner for me, i loooove you!!!) - oh and: i listened to “Sea” on repeat while writing this - spot the reference ;) - OKAY, THEN LET’S DIVE IN!

MASTERLIST | WIPS

You wondered where all your impressive motivation that you’d harboured had suddenly vanished, leaving nothing in its wake but the lingering feelings of sorrow.

It felt like a pressing eternity since you’d been able to focus on one thing for longer than two endless minutes. All you were yearning for was your warm bed, for hiding yourself under your comforting sheets, your shelter that felt miles away as you sat on your seat.

You were looking out the window, zoned out as always, as you gazed into the grey sky, the approaching rain clearly evident in the way the world growled outside. Last night had tired you; after a recurring fight between your mother and you, you had decided to grab the still full box of chocolate ice cream that you’d bought a day before and withdraw to your room. It was exhausting. You always visited for one weekend a month and each time made you regret it, not long after your arrival.

Now you were feeling the toll that the sleepless nights were taking on you and you asked yourself if the following night would be easier, calmer; you wished nothing more than to fall asleep to the soothing sound of the rain, hoping that it would serve as the perfect lullaby like it always did.

“Miss Y/L/N, what are your thoughts on these arguments?” The sharp voice of your literature teacher pulled you out of your daydreams, and you turned your tired eyes to her as she pushed her glasses up her little, cute button nose.

You vaguely remembered her talking about the aspects of the relationship between Pip and Estella and how many readers didn’t interpret their love as actual love, but more as sexual tension that builds up to a point where they are ultimately forced to fall for each other.

“I don’t think I agree. Pip was already infatuated with her when they were kids. So unless they were attracted to each other in that way as children, which I strongly doubt, I’d still say it was pure love,” you finally said, trying to somehow talk around the topic until she was satisfied. She always was, though. You may have zoned out a million times, but you read so much in your free time that it’d given you the title of one of her best students by now.

“Ah, that’s good, I like that! So, basically, what you are saying is- oh, yes, Mister Kim?”

You lazily looked over to the mentioned man. Taehyung was the epitome of a perfect person. On the surface, he had everything that seemed sufficient enough to let him meet your parents. He was incredibly witty, top of his classes - which was probably the most prominent reason why he was so popular on campus - and had the looks of a god.

It didn’t seem to faze you, though. Not that you didn’t see his eye-catching and unexplainable beauty; not that you didn’t get jealous over his brain and the way he wrapped all the teachers around his finger. But something about him edged you - it might’ve been his attitude of strolling around the building as if he knew he owned it. Or maybe it was about your arguments that you had in this class particularly, although you hadn’t shared too many yet.

But each time you talked about literature, the class could be sure to hear some counter-arguments from the oh-so-glorious and super smart Kim Taehyung. You also hadn’t failed to notice that it was mostly you who he’d rile up (on purpose?) each time. There was almost no escape from him when you spoke up and, even now, you rolled your eyes.

“I just wanted to remark that it might be true that Pip loved her wholeheartedly, but what is it really that Estella felt for him? I don’t necessarily think it was love, or any kind of real affectionate feeling, for that matter,” he said, his gaze boring holes into you, not leaving you once.

You put your arm over your chair as you scoffed at him. “So, you’re saying... Dickens wrote a whole romantic novel about love, only for his readers to think all of it was one-sided?”

“Who knows about his real intentions while he was writing it? Literature can be interpreted in various ways - and my interpretation is that she clearly didn’t possess the same intense ability to feel passion as Pip did.”

You saw your teacher, along with some of your classmates, nod, growing ashamed in your seat as you felt your sense of logic begin to falter at his words. He could see that you were getting nervous, unsure about what to say, but his merciless and confident glance didn’t break, didn’t give you the chance to collect yourself.

“Well, you are right in that. Literature can indeed be perceived in various ways, so I can’t say that either of you are particularly wrong. Though, I might admit that Estella’s behaviour towards Pip was questionable at times - especially at the end of the novel. But I don’t want to ruin the book for those who still have to or want to read the ending.” Miss Park’s tone grew relaxed with each word, indicating that the lesson was finally coming to its end. You were already stuffing your books into your back bag as she said her last words and told you she’d sent out an email with the instructions for the next assignment.

Soon after, you felt a figure approach - and when you lifted your head, you were surprised to see that it was Taehyung, standing tall above you as he cleared his throat. “Your perspective to that was interesting.”

Sighing, you stood, putting your bag over your shoulder as you smiled softly. “Was it now?”

“Definitely. Aren’t such discussions there to get to know other points of views, too?”

He was probably right, but you didn’t quite feel like talking to him about this right now; just… something about his tone and expression felt off, and it made his words seem empty - as if he knew he was right. It was as if the things he said were not as genuine as he wanted them to come across.

And when you didn’t answer, he started chewing on his lower lip, wondering if he had said something you hadn’t wanted to hear. “Do you want to grab some tea?”

At his surprising offer your eyes widened a little, and you fumbled with the strap of your bag, only hesitating for a split second before you answered, “I don’t really drink tea that much. And I have some things to do today before my roommate gets back, so…”

You walked past him, making your way to the door before you felt him catch up to you within moments. He tapped your shoulder lightly, in an effort to somehow draw an explanation out of you as to why you were constantly so irritated by him. It wasn’t as if he had never noticed - he knew exactly how much you didn’t want to interact with him, and that was exactly why he wanted to get to know you even more.

Apparently, it was true that human beings always want the one thing they can’t possibly have, forced to push themselves to a limit that ultimately means their doom, if they don’t reach the goals that seem to be so far away anyway.

And right now, he felt like you were miles away, although only a hand’s difference separated the two of you. After all the times that girls had asked him out, shyly inviting him to dinner or arcades with the hungry expression that he had deciphered right away, you were still reluctant to even look at him out of your own will.

It bothered him. He wanted you to notice him. Months had passed now since you had first met in this class, yet you didn’t seem to care about initiating a conversation with him at all.

Why not?

“Y/N,” his deep guttural voice started, his eyes trying to decode your stern and tired expression intently, “do you remember the trip that’s planned for the end of next week?”

You didn’t. In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about the trip to that one historical sight, and you couldn’t even entirely recall why you were travelling all the way there. You thought you remembered the teacher telling you that she’d once written a book about star-crossed lovers from opposing social ranks who lived in a small castle.

Now that you thought about it, pieces of her explanation started coming back to you and you wondered why you had never read the story although it did sound intriguing somehow. According to your professor, the girl was a poor servant of the boy, a prince who’d fall in love with her as the story progressed - but as unfortunate circumstances separated both of them, they united after death, at a time when the castle had long been destroyed and the forest around it had withered.

As enthusiastic as she was, she was eager to show her students where she had gotten the inspiration from, claiming that she had played on the place’s grounds when she’d been little. It wasn’t even a historical sight per se, but more a destroyed building that had stood there a long, long time ago and that no one particularly cared about now.

You had completely forgotten about that. Nevertheless, you nodded. “Ah, yeah. What about that?”

“I was thinking - as I found our argument somewhat interesting… what if we both read professor Park’s book and talked about our perspectives to the couple’s love when we’re done? Like, on the day of the trip or something,” he suggested, almost running into an open door.

You chuckled a little before you contained yourself again. Not that you had much free time to indulge in a book, but you wouldn’t let Taehyung win yet again; there was a deep and urgent need in you to finally wipe this arrogant smirk off his face and if that wasn’t the perfect opportunity, then what was?

“Sure,” you answered; and the next thing you saw was his face lighting up, his mouth twitching until it finally turned upwards to form a boxy grin. “I’ll read it.”

He licked his lips before he clapped his hands once. “Perfect. So, when you’re done, just tell me!” And before you could counter with anything, he patted you on your back and left your side, his hands in the pockets of his pants as you watched him walk away.

Since you had made this spontaneous deal with Taehyung, it seemed as if he was everywhere you set foot to. He walked past your classes while you waited for them to start or coincidentally sat only one or two tables away on a campus as large as yours, starting a conversation in one way or another each time, without an exception.

“Have you read it yet?”

“How much have you read already?”

“Should I give you a spoiler?”

“Will you go out with me? - For tea, I mean…”

The worst part was that you somehow seemed to enjoy it. You didn’t know him that well, and you were sure he would be able to get on your nerves easily if you just let him close enough. But the way he’d always smile at you and ask for your opinion on specific things was sometimes, somehow, endearing - maybe it was the fact that he actually cared about your mind and what went through it that had you hooked.

And when you saw him walk towards you as you settled in your seat in the travelling bus, you turned your gaze to the dirty window quickly, suppressing a smile as you acted oblivious to the fact that he had sat down right next to you.

“Morning,” he said, his voice unusually close. You turned to face him and saw him winking at you in the most flirty way you had seen a college student do. You greeted him with a quick nod and smile, not even bothering to ask why he wasn’t sitting with his usual friends.

“So, I’m assuming you’ve finished the book?” he finally asked, stretching his legs under the seat in front of him.

You told him yes, you had, two days ago in fact, and that you had liked the whole story as it was, except the ending which had surprisingly thrown you off guard a little - to which his eyebrows furrowed. Just as you had expected.

“What, you don’t like the aspect of them reuniting as ghosts and living - or dying? - the rest of their existence at that place?” he inquired, apparently not realising why all of this sounded so ridiculous - at least to you.

You sighed. “It’s not necessarily that. I didn’t like that they have to roam the Earth - like, not even the planet, but that one specific place, for the rest of their being. Even if you loved someone this much, would you want to spend an eternity with each other at one spot, no one else to talk to, no children, no nothing?”

“I get your point. But didn’t the girl wait for him all these years to finally be with him after he dies? Didn’t she stay in the afterlife to meet him again, because that’s what her soul demanded of her? I gathered that she would’ve found peace immediately, if she hadn’t longed for him.”

And as always, Taehyung left you speechless. You tried hard to think of a witty remark, but came up blank. After a while, you opted to drift away from the competition between you two, and instead, focus on agreeing with him, expanding his hypothesis further. “Yeah, maybe you could assume that they found their peace and satisfaction right after meeting. We don’t know what happens after the book ends.”

He looked taken aback for some reason. Instead of nodding, as one would expect when someone supported their thoughts, he licked his lips again, apparently a fixed habit of his as you had gotten to know over the past few days. “... You’re right. Might as well ask Miss Park about it.”

You smiled at him, assuming that the topic had now ended, but it seemed to occupy his mind more than you’d thought. “Novels about love are so often so complex, don’t you think? All the interpretations that authors leave open are… fascinating.”

“That’s an important quality of an author - be ambiguous, but not too much. Having freedom to analyze the story is something a lot of readers appreciate.”

Taehyung shifted in his seat a little, so he could face you properly. He fumbled with his fingers, seemingly a nervous tick he had when he started to bloom, enthusiastic about a topic that he was interested in; it was so endearing to look at, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “I just don’t understand why we need sadness so much to be able to theorize about these things. Why can’t we readers hope for a happy ending without witnessing the characters go through such tough times?”

You hadn’t noticed that exactly, as you’d always found space to come up with theories even in happy stories. But still, you understood what he meant. “Where there is hope, there is always hardship. The balance of the world.”

This time, it was him who didn’t know what to answer. Less because he felt beaten by you, but more because your words went straight to his heart. It felt like a motto to live by; he could almost see in your eyes that you weren’t scared of the hardships that you encountered in life, that you dived into them without fearing the pain that might appear.

His literature-student-brain was smoking as he looked at you, analyzing you like he did it with his beloved books. Knowing that you had strengths he didn’t know about yet, he felt more and more drawn to you, the urge to get to know you growing stronger.

He wanted to be able to read your soul that glowed more imminent and brighter to him with each word you stuttered.

The sun was blazing and shining onto you relentlessly. You’d known how worn-down the whole place would be, but you hadn’t figured that everything would be roofless, the castle shattered to its grounds. How was it even possible to destroy a whole complex like this to its complete indecipherability?

After walking for a while in the growing noon heat, you soon noticed that Taehyung hadn’t left your side for some time now. It would’ve almost been creepy, if you had felt uncomfortable at all; in fact, that he stuck to you like glue, somehow made you feel giddy, nervous, stomach churning until you couldn’t hide the smile anymore.

“Is there anything you want to say to me?”

He shook his head, pointed a finger to your teacher instead. “Listen to what she has to say. She’s the lecturer, not me.”

Your lecturer wasn’t even talking about significant historical facts. You remembered that this day wasn’t even in any way important for your final exams and that professor Park had dragged you here for the sole purpose of promoting the book you had already bought and read.

And at some point, as you found yourself distracted by your own disruptive thoughts, mind wandering to your mother and how she had been doing this morning when you’d called her, you felt someone tug at your arm. But you didn’t need to guess twice to know who it was.

Taehyung dragged you away from the crowd that was your class, putting a finger to his lips to shush you. That was weird. It was definitely weird, right? “What do you think you’re doing, Taehyung?” you almost whispered as your eyes moved frantically, looking into the direction you were walking to somehow find out where he was intending to go.

“Just want to show you something that fits Miss Park’s book perfectly,” he said, not bothering to lower the tone of his voice at all. You disappeared behind a wall, now out of your classmates’ eyes who had long moved forwards, exploring the sight that wasn’t one at all.

It took you two minutes of gazing at broken walls, modern graffiti and inscripted promises by various wanderers to get to a spot where Taehyung finally halted his movements, head moving around as if he was looking for something. You were finally under a roof that shielded you from the heat and you leaned against the cold wall to breathe in deeply.

When Taehyung’s eyes finally settled on what he was seeking, he walked towards it without hesitation. He stretched out his arm to touch what was written there, not visible for you where you were standing. You saw a smile creep up his face as he ran his fingers along the bricks, relishing in whatever feeling was taking over his heart right now.

You were about to ask when he eventually spoke up. “It says ‘No matter who or what tries to keep us apart, I will always find you - even in death.’ Sounds exactly like the story about the lovers, doesn’t it?”

Pushing yourself off the wall, you stepped closer, inspecting the sentence yourself before you smiled. “Seems as if Miss Park has some fans.”

“Do you think these people read her book?”

“Definitely. I feel like this abandoned place can otherwise only be found, if someone lives nearby and stumbles across it, like Miss Park did. And she mentioned this exact castle - or what’s left of it - in her author’s note.”

He inhaled and exhaled deeply before he looked at you. “I believe that people like these define love. Believing in each other so much that they fight for their love, even after they’re gone.”

“I’m not sure if wanting to love someone even in death is the only indicator for true love… or the definition of it.” You raised your hand, too, touched the inscription exactly where Taehyung’s hand had been a moment ago.

He raised an eyebrow at you, licking his lips again. “Yeah? Well, what is then?”

You laughed at his question. You weren’t sure; you hadn’t experienced love in its truest form yet and couldn’t quite express what it meant or could mean to you. The only type of affection you’d ever felt was that from your parents, but after your father’s death, even that had vanished.

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I find out.”

“You’ve never loved anyone before?” he asked, a surprised look taking over his beautiful face.

“Not in that sense, no… I think,” you muttered, lost in the words that were written on the bricks. The sentence Taehyung had read to you wasn’t the only one here. There were several things you could spot and most of them seemed to relate to each other.

We’re tragic, but not doomed.

Burn yourself into my memory until I can’t escape you.

These were only some of various confessions that made your heart flutter. Despite the fact that you didn’t exactly have an idea of how to define love, you could feel that the passion this couple - or these couples - had shared, or still shared, was intense, deep, fierce. Somehow, you felt the energy seeping through the ink as you touched it gently, careful not to smear it - then again, you figured it had dried enough to stay here for a while.

By now, Taehyung had walked up and stopped next to you; as his arm grazed yours, your breath hitched slightly, and you widened your eyes at your own reaction. This proximity shouldn’t have made you this nervous, right? It was Taehyung. Taehyung from your literature class, the college genius and arrogant smartass who-

“I shouldn’t write these words down. They will never do you justice,” he read aloud, now directly behind you, and you felt his warm breath against your face. And as your heart threatened to burst any second, you suddenly stepped away, away from the lovers’ words, away from the wall, away from him.

You didn’t get very far; before you could put a safe distance between him and yourself, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to him. You gasped at his ministrations, suddenly hyper aware of how alone you both were right now. He was leaning against the wall now, not letting his grip on you loose as he stared into the deepest depths of your eyes.

“Breathe, Y/N,” he said before a grin decorated his face. You hadn’t realized you were even holding your breath, and exhaled deeply. “What if I told you that I finished this book weeks ago?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Whatever you’d thought he would tell you or do to you, it wasn’t this - this was a tad more disappointing. “You did?”

He nodded as he brought your hand to his chest, pulling you in just a little, but too much for your racing heart. “I love talking to you about these things,” he admitted, suddenly bringing his lips closer to your ear as he whispered his next words, “and frankly, all our other classmates are idiots.”

You chuckled nervously. “And I’m not?”

“You? No way,” he said, looking at your profile, “breathe.”

He pulled back again and released your hand, making you automatically take a few steps back nervously - but to no avail. Soon, he had you in his grip again, twirling you around to press you into the wall with a gentle, soft force. His thumb came up to ghost over your jaw, and his touch caused a strange pressure in your stomach that had you on the brink of losing your mind. This should’ve all been weird - why did you like it so much?

“Taehyung…”

“Hmm?” he hummed, not removing his eyes from your mouth as his fingers wandered to your lower lip.

“What are you doing?” Your breathing was uneven, and you struggled to focus - he noticed that, trying his hardest not to break out into a proud smirk.

He had found you interesting for so long now, had wanted to get close to you, pined over you for months, and now that he was touching you, he knew he had waited for this since he had heard you speak in class for the first time. Unlike some of his friends, who’d praised your physical features on multiple occasions, he was first and foremost impressed by your mind.

There was no doubt that you were beautiful; but he felt attracted to your brain, your attitude, your personality, the whole of you.

“Tell me to stop.”

“What?” you asked, unable to think, trying your hardest to not sink to your knees.

“This,” he murmured as he came a little closer, the other hand that was not on your face, settling on your bare arm, “tell me to stop.”

You tried - but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to. No words could be uttered, no words escaped you; not even the plea to finally kiss you, and you felt like he knew all of this. In his deep, dark, sparkling and hooded eyes you could clearly see that he knew what he was doing.

“You can’t.” It was a statement - not a question. You didn’t answer. “Then go out with me.”

His words hit you unexpectedly, a warm and dizzying feeling building up in your chest, and you tried so hard not to falter. To not give in. To not have him deal with your struggles and your life.

But you did. You did falter.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, nodding slightly as his eyes shot up to meet yours.

Then, suddenly, embarrassingly, he let go, walking a few steps back to eye your flabbergasted state. “Okay. Great. Now, let’s go back to the group before they report us as missing.”

You took a strand of your hair between your fingers, currently unable to look at him directly. “How did you find this specific spot, anyway?”

“Was roaming the place a little in our break and figured you’d like it.”

As you walked back to your classmates, soon finding them and realizing that literally no one had missed you, you chuckled slightly at the fact that yes - you had liked it. All of it.

And it made you nervous.

Albeit his invitation to go out with him, he didn’t mention the upcoming date for the whole of the following week and you grew more and more tense with each time you saw him pass by you or approach you to talk about something random. It was almost as if he tried to put you on edge, having your stomach turn and churn every time he talked to you about anything but the date.

There were some conversations about other books you both liked - or disliked - and hobbies that you hadn’t known the other was talented in. Apparently, Taehyung was into photography; not much of a surprise, given the fact that he had the word cultivated written clearly on his forehead. He told you that he liked to take pictures of landscapes and cities, but beside that, he also loved capturing random moments with his friends and loved ones.

“I can schedule a photoshoot with you sometime, if you want,” he offered, having you all flustered, because you’d never been someone who enjoyed her pictures being taken much.

“I’m not sure. I’m not good at poses,” you answered as you took a bite of your dry sandwich.

He shook his head, clearly not impressed by your lame argument. “That’s what I’m here for. I’d tell you what to do and you’d just have to look good, that’s all. And that you do everyday.”

Your skin tingled at his comments, and you noticed how much of a routine these remarks had become. He’d compliment you whenever he could, while you struggled to find out if he was flirting or just simply being nice to you. But then again, he had asked you out - and despite that, you still hadn’t forgotten the short, intense moment that had occured at the ruins days ago.

In fact, you often stared at your ceiling at night, unable to fall asleep, much to your chagrin. A lot of times when you closed your eyes, you dreamed of back then and of what more could’ve happened, always waking up when he’d finally press his full, beautiful lips on yours. In your dreams, he tasted sweet, intoxicating, like spring and hope.

But in reality, you hadn’t even settled for a day to meet up to do whatever he wanted to do. At least until now, until he turned to you.

“You agreed to go out with me,” he simply declared, his voice deep and almost nonchalant, as if he was just casually mentioning some side fact; it wasn’t like you’d been waiting for this all week as you hung out with him everyday.

“Yeah. I suppose I did.”

“So, I waited before telling you this - but an amusement park is opening up tonight and I’d like to take you there. If you like things like these, I mean.”

“Tonight, you say? Sure.” You gave him a beautiful smile before you looked down to your lunch again, trying not to show how the heat was creeping up your face, how flustered you’d gotten - but he could tell.

He could always tell.

The crowd was insane - you were surprised that you hadn’t known about the opening of this amusement park until Taehyung had mentioned it, as there were so many guests that you hardly found a spot to stand. It was difficult to even get a ticket to a ride, and as you stood in the various lines, you talked about how loud it was here, both agreeing that, were the activities not as much fun as they were, you would’ve probably gone to grab some dinner in a random restaurant nearby.

One hour later and you found yourself sitting on a bench; he was patting your back to calm you down after your idiotic ass had decided to eat a hot dog right before the most dangerous of all rides that turned and swirled and made, as it’d felt, a hundred loops.

“I told you not to eat until we’re done, Y/N,” Taehyung said, laughing as he watched your pale face, you leaning back, eyes closed in misery. He stood, tugging at your hand and you looked up at him. “I’ll bring you home.”

“No, I-” you started, but you were quickly interrupted when you felt your phone vibrate between your palms. As you looked at the name, you almost didn’t pick up, rolling your eyes before stuffing the phone into your bag again; only to rethink your choice for a moment, apologizing to Taehyung and taking it out again to answer.

“Hi, Mom.” You stood up to walk away from Taehyung a bit - if this was going to turn into some kind of messy drama, you didn’t want him to be in a proximity close enough to witness your whole conversation. “What’s up? How are you?”

She didn’t answer for a second, and you wondered if she was even still there before she cleared her throat dramatically. Her voice was hoarse, used, tired, drowning in the drunken state that she was obviously in. “Y/N.”

“Mom. What’s wrong?”

“I need something from you,” she said, and your heart started to thump against your chest as you awaited her request, fearing that she was falling ill again.

“I used up all my reservoir of the alcohol I had. Please, I can barely move without the world spinning. Can you come here and bring me some more? I need to just - pass out for today.”

You swallowed hard, not believing that she would call you just to ask if you could poison her with some more of her drug; to ask you to drive for one hour and a half, just to throw you out again after potential harsh words.

“No,” you answered firmly - you wouldn’t give in to her bullshit, not this time.

“What do you mean by no, you brat?” She was getting angry; you could hear it in the way her words became blurred, almost indecipherable, but you didn’t care.

“I won’t fucking bring you your goddamn alcohol. Go to bed and sleep, drink some water and calm yourself down!” you almost yelled, growing impatient, too, your heart racing in your chest as your blood pressure heightened.

You heard her gasp sharply before she stuttered until she could finally form a coherent sentence. “You fucking bitch. I didn’t raise you to talk back like that!”

You looked over your shoulder. Taehyung raised his head, smiling at you before he saw the concern in your face and putting his phone back into his pockets as he stood up to walk up to you. Meanwhile, your mother was still uttering obscene insults at you, words that you should’ve been used to by now. But it was different in this moment.

This evening had passed with so much laughter and giggles, excessive amounts of adrenaline and growing feelings - you couldn’t understand what you’d done to deserve this; why it was so hard for her to just let you live for once.

When a wet drop landed on your bare collarbone, you realized that you had started crying, the goddamn tears streaming down your face, although you had tried to contain yourself so hard. You felt Taehyung’s hand on your back, patting it again, but differently this time than a few minutes ago. You inhaled a deep breath as you spoke into your phone, interrupting your raging mother who just wouldn’t stop.

“I can’t talk right now, Mom. I’m busy.”

“Wha- are you crying now? What the fuck are you crying for, you-”

You hung up. That was honestly all you could and would take, and you’d heard enough. You dried your tears quickly, getting yourself together as you cleared your throat and looked at Taehyung’s worried and silent face. You gave him a reassuring smile before you said, “you’re right. I should probably head home.”

He just nodded, putting a comforting arm softly around your shoulders as he walked beside you. Approaching your home, you were tempted to tell him to just go home, that he didn’t need to accompany you all the way - but something told you that he wouldn’t listen to you anyway. And as minutes passed, your mind shifted back to your mother.

You were wondering if she was okay. Being this drunk was dangerous, especially for someone like her who drowned her sorrows and pain in that deadly liquid almost every night, not knowing how else to cope with your father’s death - even after all the years that had passed.

But you couldn’t leave her alone; you couldn’t drive all the way over to her either. You didn’t have the time.

You took out your phone again, sniffing as you hastily scrolled down to find the number of one of your highschool friends. You knew she still lived near your house and could help you out. It didn’t need a lot of long-stretched words; you pleaded with her to stay the night and take care of your mother - she knew she was always welcome at your house, and unlike yourself, she would never hear a single bad word uttered out of your mother’s mouth that was targeted at her.

Taehyung was still holding you without saying anything. He didn’t know what. Ask you what was wrong? He could, but if you’d wanted to, then you would’ve spoken up already, right? No - he could cheer you up. Or at least try to.

“Do you want me to come up with you? We could watch something, or just talk,” he suggested, his voice hesitant and his words careful.

Swimming in your misery, you had almost forgotten what joy he had brought you today. Almost forgotten how genuine his touch on your shoulder, his expression of concern was. And as you found yourself overwhelmed with hate yet affection for your mother, something in you snapped enough to admit that Taehyung was all you wanted with you at this moment.

“You can. I mean, I - you don’t have to, I’d be fine, but… if you want to, you can.”

He grinned at you - that one boxy grin that always reached his dreamy eyes, brightening up the darkest of nights. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to.”

He let you go, brushed his fingers through his dark, soft hair as you entered your dorm room. You figured it was late enough for your early bird of a roommate to have fallen asleep, so you tried not to be too loud as you came in, bringing Taehyung a glass of water, and then - surprisingly brave of you - deciding to settle in your room to have your privacy, without risking to wake up your friend in the next room.

You both settled on your bed, crawling under your thin blanket, despite the pressing heat. You had put a pizza in the oven that you were chewing on now, watching a Disney movie on your laptop that laid on your lap while Taehyung contemplated whether it was okay to pull you close to him or not. It had been so easy a week ago; brushing the skin of your face with his fingers and muttering tempting words to you felt difficult now, although there was nothing more that he wanted than to enclose you in his embrace, be your shelter in a moment like this.

Despite his usual confidence, you couldn’t understand what was holding him back now. Although you hadn’t known each other properly until two weeks ago, he felt like an intimate person in your life, consuming more and more of your thoughts as the days went by and having you look forward to the next day when you could, again, spend lunch time with him and talk to him about the most random aspects of the universe and beyond.

And when nothing happened for the next thirty minutes, you shifted, getting closer to him as you put your head on his shoulder. You didn’t see the smile appear widely on his ethereal face. Didn’t hear the way his heart hammered against his ribs violently until the sound consumed his ears. You didn’t know about the effect you had on him.

His arm snaked around your shoulders and his fingers gently settled on your bare arm. When he noticed that you didn’t protest, he dug his nails deeper into your flesh, making you breathe out sharply as he pulled you closer to him. You felt his lips ghosting over your hair, and yourself dozing off slightly.

At some point you just sat there, watching, but not watching the movie, the pictures becoming blurred motions in front of your eyes. His fingers had found your arm, stroking it until you felt relaxed enough to close your eyes and calm your breath that had somehow fastened; on one hand stressed because of the thought that revolved around your mother, and on the other hand growing nervous as you inhaled the soft cinnamon scent of the man who was holding you gently, carefully.

When you woke up - apparently you had eventually fallen asleep - your head was resting on his chest; he was still here, still beside you. He had placed your laptop on the night table and pulled the blanket over both of you, holding you tightly, making sure you didn’t fall apart - not tonight.

You shifted a little, carefully sitting up and noticing that you were still wearing your dress. As you fumbled with the hem of it to pull it down a bit, you heard him groan softly, and as you looked down at him, he had opened his eyes and was rubbing them with the back of his hand.

“Hey, are you okay?” He sat up instantly, looking at your tired face while your hands tried to smoothen your hair until you reckoned you didn’t look like a scarecrow anymore.

“I am,” you answered, putting the strap of your dress back onto your shoulder, “why didn’t you go home? Sleeping in jeans must be terrible.”

He shrugged, putting a strand of hair out of your face as he yawned into his other hand. “I didn’t want to leave you alone like this.”

You nodded, smiling at him gratefully. That’s what you’d thought. It was incredible that he was fond of you enough to stay the night, to look out for you, to make sure you didn’t slip again, didn’t cry all night. You didn’t know if it was your exhaustion or affection towards him, but the next words came out easily.

“Can we do that again?”

You didn’t have to spell it out; he knew. He knew and consequently opened his arms for you to settle into him again, pulling you both down, heads falling onto the big pillow as you pressed your torso against his chest.

Although you were fairly tired, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anymore. Not now that you knew he was this close, his heart against yours, his opal eyes sunk in yours; there was no way you’d miss even a moment of him staring at you like this.

“Are you really okay?” he asked, his breath warm against your face as his hand grazed your back. “You got me worried today.”

You swallowed before you answered, hesitant at first, “I think I’m fine. Just concerned. Mom has this drinking habit, and I’ve tried to deal with her, but I’m just… tired.”

He nodded in affirmation as if he knew exactly what your mother was going through. “Maybe you need to sit down with her when she’s sober and talk through it all.”

“She’s never sober.” You briefly closed your eyes when he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, grazing over your cheeks slightly before he brought his hand to the nape of your neck.

“One day she will be. She’s your mother, and she loves you. There will definitely come a time when she’ll be willing to talk. Just ask her.” He was whispering by now, and you had a hard time to even comprehend what he was saying, your mind way too focused on his scent, on his eyes, on his subtle touches.

“...Yeah,” you said, eyes wandering down his nose and cheeks until they settled on his beautiful, parted lips.

“Y/N?” he murmured, his fingers still caressing the skin on your neck as he pulled you in closer, just a little, almost not noticeable.

“Taehyung?”

“I just want you to know… that I’m here. Anytime.”

Anytime. Your breath became unsteady, everything in you longing for him to finally press his lips against yours, your skin lighting up where he touched you. And when the tips of your noses finally met, his mouth almost on yours, you closed your eyes, welcoming the moment that was about to come, in three, two, one…

And then you were kissing.

He kissed you tenderly, softly, almost as if he was memorizing each second your lips moved against his. As his fingers traced the skin on your neck, the heat in your cheeks, the fabric of your clothes, you wondered how you’d managed to hold yourself back this long, how you’d gone without tasting the sweetness of the tongue that was making its way through to meet yours.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, your dress sliding up as his grip on you tightened. Your nails bore themselves into his shoulder blades and you were almost scared you were hurting him before he let out a small whimper. No, he was enjoying it.

You felt him and yourself grow needy slowly, the kiss becoming harder, faster, your whole body moving against each other as you moaned quietly. Then, suddenly, he rolled over you, his hands settling on each side of your head as he hovered above you, your mouths still not getting enough of the passion that was flowing through you like electricity.

Almost absent mindedly, he pulled the straps of your dress down again, just stopping for a moment as he gauged your reaction. And when he was sure you were okay with this, he leaned in to kiss you again while his hand hooked your leg around him, stroking the flesh up to your thighs.

He softly nibbled at your lower lip as he indulged in your little sounds, eager to give himself to you completely. He couldn’t get enough of this thought - the girl he had been pining over for months was now under him, her hands pulling up his shirt, kissing him like she was desperate for him.

He let you take off his shirt, impatient, tongue and teeth crashing against yours again as soon as his torso was bare. He slid your dress even higher, bringing it up to your breasts before he lifted you up a little in order to pull it over your head in a smooth motion.

“I’ll help you cheer up,” Taehyung declared as he pulled away, and you laughed, a hearty, soft, beautiful laugh that forced him to join, his heart racing at the sight of you laying there, endearing, beautiful, just perfect.

“Do that,” you said, pulling his face to yours again and tracing his lower lip with your tongue. He pressed his hips against yours, and by now you could clearly feel the hardness against your core. You reached down to open his pants, teasingly slow until he gently pulled your hands away to do it himself.

Slipping out of his jeans, his fingers reached your back, fumbling with your bra until he opened and then threw it aside. Only in your underpants now, you both grinded against each other, you arching your back and him moving his hips as he kissed your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin and then smoothing it with his delicate tongue.

His hands cupped one of your soft breasts, massaging it while he moved his mouth to your other nipple, sucking and licking it as you became a moaning mess under him. You didn’t care about the fact that it could’ve woken up your roommate; she’d only meet you the next morning and wiggle her eyebrows suggestively.

You tried to pull his shorts down, seeking release, seeking anything more than just the feeling of him through your clothes. He smiled against your skin and helped you to get out of them, finding the way you were struggling to concentrate somehow adorable. In one unexpected movement he freed you of your damp panties too, leaning back as he speechlessly eyed your whole body.

“You’re…” he started, only to trail off as he got caught in the perfect, endless dream that was you.

“I am..?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled, wrapping your legs around him again to pull him closer, his length pressing against your clit, and you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think so. But I’ll gladly let you think that.”

He smiled, but instead of giving in to kiss you, he moved his body down, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your torso as he went, until he reached your mons pubis. He spread your legs slowly yet hungrily, bringing his face close enough that you could feel him breathing against your wetness.

He leaned forward, only touching your cunt with the tip of his tongue to tease you a little. And when you grabbed his hair impatiently, pushing him into you, he laughed, causing you to giggle with him; but he soon silenced you by licking a hot stripe against your aching core, sinking into you right after as if you were his last meal on earth.

One of his hands released the thigh he was holding to circle your clit slowly with his fingers, a stark contrast to how intensely he was eating you out just inches away from your sensitive bud. And then, he switched, looking at your lustful expression as he sunk two fingers into you, moving them in and out at a delicate pace while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves. All of this while never leaving you out of his sight.

“Taehy-” you started, but then he crooked his fingers, hitting a spot that sent you into an almost spiritual state. And then, you laughed. “I was trying to speak here…”

“Tell me to stop,” he said, repeating the exact same words he had uttered to you just a week ago. His deep voice and moans against your cunt sent vibrations through your body, and you took a shaky breath before you finally let go, grabbing the sheets under you as you sat up.

He watched your movements intently, letting you push him down onto his back, straddle his legs and grab his cock. You swept your hair to one side as you began stroking his hardness, mouth coming down to lick at the leaking tip, drawing beautiful moans out of him as he threw his head back in sheer pleasure.

He was a little too big to fit him into your mouth wholly; but when you wrapped your lips around him and took him in deeper, your hand took care of everything that your mouth wouldn’t take - and seemingly, this trick did it for him, too.

Sucking his cock was heavenly; not just for him, but also for you. You relished in the sounds that were escaping his throat, his uncontrolled movements that had him on edge, the way his hand sank into your hair tightly, lightly tugging at it.

God, his voice was so deep. He was so beautiful, so perfect.

You continued sucking him to the point he became louder, and eventually, he whined, “stop, stop, stop! Y/N, no more.”

You knew why. His legs had started trembling, his breath was hitched and his cock twitched in your mouth - he was close, but he didn’t want to finish just yet. So instead of keeping up your ministrations, you sat up straight, shifting your body, so you could align your entrance with his throbbing, reddened cock. You rubbed yourself against him for maximum effect until he gripped your waist to still you.

"Do it," he ordered, his hooded eyes darkened beyond belief. You lifted yourself, grabbing his cock as you slowly pressed the tip into you your opening before you sank down on him, carefully, trying to adjust to his length that was just right to not hurt you.

He let out a breathy moan, his hands still on your waist as he tried hard not to thrust up, giving you the chance to settle enough to start whenever you felt ready. He filled you up perfectly - the stretch was breathtaking, every inch that entered you sending shivers down your spine as you looked down to him.

Then, you started to move your hips, starting at a slow and passionate pace that had him close his eyes, his gaze leaving your body for the first time since you had sat down on him. You drowned in the way he was feeling peak ecstatic, enjoying every second he spent with you, every touch you provided him with.

And then his hands wandered up your body, first to your breasts to squeeze them, then snaking around you to settle on your back and pull you down to him. He opened his eyes again, looking at you, your lips brushing against each other's, but not quite kissing yet. You both moaned into the other's mouth, and you whimpered when you felt his hips thrust up to meet your movements, filling you up deeply, entirely.

For a while, the room was filled with lewd and lustful sounds as he picked up the pace, fucking you harder, faster, nibbling at the shell of your ear as goosebumps formed on your arms, his large hands grabbing your ass firmly and stretching out the cheeks deliciously. Then, he sat up, dragging you with him, and you immediately wrapped your legs around him again, half expecting that he was going to push you onto your back to continue like that.

But he didn't - instead, he stopped for a moment, glancing into your tired eyes. Sweat trickled down his temple, and you wiped his damp hair out of his forehead before resting your hand on his cheek that he leaned into. You both didn't exchange a lot of words; the way you looked at each other and the close proximity between you said more than you both could've through spoken actions.

Taehyung kissed you again, just for a second, almost chaste as his fingers explored the skin of your back, coming up to your hair. He pulled you in, almost as if hugging you - or hugging you indeed? -, making your head rest on his shoulder.

You bit into it when you felt him start to move again; now that you both were sitting up, his cock was inside you completely, reaching the perfect spot over and over again as you melted into him. He left open mouthed kisses on your neck, his tongue flicking over the blossoming marks that were already becoming visible, pulling you impossibly close to him.

“Taehyung,” you whispered into his ear, lost at words, just his name on your tongue, the passion burning up your body inside and outside. His pelvic bone rubbing against your clit, his perfect, planned thrusts, his hands on your body, the sounds he breathed right into your ear - everything added together and multiplied with the passion between you by a thousand brought you so close to your release that you dug your nails into his flesh again, leaving new bruises that had him whine in pleasure.

“Y/N,” he called, and you looked at him, all your light make-up surely ruined under your eyes. He swiped at it with his thumb, licking his lips as he put his forehead against yours. “You can let go, baby.”

You could let go - of everything, you thought. Of the negative thoughts, your worries, the hate, the insecurities. Of everything that kept you up at night, everything that ever brought tears in your eyes. You noticed that you had let go of most of these things since Taehyung had suddenly entered your life, although he had always been here, in your reach, in front of your eyes.

Then, he did push you down, your back hitting the mattress as he raised your legs higher, continuing to fuck into you in an almost merciless speed now. Your breaths melded as he came closer, your sounds becoming one, his hair grazing your forehead as he called your name, told you how perfect and gorgeous you were, how he had waited for this moment.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N,” he told you, setting you on fire with each glance his dreamy eyes gave you, completely lost in you. The expression was almost not one of someone who’d started to get to know you just some time ago; it was of someone who had always admired you from far away. Someone who would look at you and get mesmerized by you, someone who would read a book and wonder what your thoughts about it would be.

And as he reached down to massage your clit, everything in you exploded like a supernova within seconds as you arched your back and pressed your head against the soft pillow, giving him easy access to your neck.

He whispered more promises into your skin, ones that made you believe him, trust him. Maybe it was the fact that he was one of the brightest souls you had ever met, or maybe it was his ability to feel emotions more intense and realer than anyone else you knew - but you believed every word he said.

As he went on for a few more thrusts, chasing his own high, you held onto these vows, your mind empty, heart thumping and swelling at the thought of this man sticking by your side. How did it only take you two weeks to become this infatuated with him? Was it because you had, despite his seeming arrogance, always admired his intellect, his confidence, his quietness and humility in class, although he could’ve used his popularity in various ways?

Whatever it was - your mind was too occupied to figure this out right now. You felt him come undone with a deep moan, your name on his tongue as his hot cum shot through you. He tried his best not to collapse on you and shifted his weight on his elbows, looking at you as his eyes softened, the lustful darkness becoming a burning ember, liquid velvet, a tempestuous ocean whose gentle waves seemed to carry you away.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, your fingers touching his panting mouth softly. You pulled him in for a kiss, one that he put all his affection in, showing you just how special you were.

And as he pulled away, he chuckled a little, bumping his nose against yours. “Have you seen yourself?”

You rolled your eyes. There was no way you were looking anyhow good right now; your hair was disheveled, your make-up smeared and your skin all sweaty. “You’re blinded.”

“Blinded by what?” He grinned at you. He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear you say it.

What was it? Love? No, not yet.

“By the fact that you like me,” you said, half confidently, half scared that he might stand up and leave awkwardly. And he did, in fact, not answer anything, only smiled at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Taehyung?”

“Yeah?” He kept grinning as he pulled out, groaning slightly and laying down beside you. His breathing had steadied a little and he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He brought his mouth to your hair to give you a kiss before he asked again, “yeah? What is it?”

“Are you not going to say anything? It’s kinda… awkward for me.”

He laughed, giving your body a squeeze as he closed his eyes. “I do like you. I thought I made this very clear in the last few hours since we arrived here.”

“I think you might have,” you said, smiling into his chest.

Was this the definition of what characters felt in romantic novels?

A month and a half later

Taehyung was waiting for you outside. The big, old building in the shady, weird neighbourhood hadn’t scared him off - rather than that, he’d insisted even more to stay here and wait until you were done with what you had come here for.

It had taken so many conversations, phone calls and convincing words to encourage you to finally drive over here to talk to the mess that your mother was, and now you’d obliged, realizing that there would come a day when you would not be able to make things right anymore.

When you left the shabby complex, still not familiar with the new place your mother had decided to settle in, Taehyung was reading a short novel, one that had come out not long ago. And when you opened the door, he smiled widely, noticing how your expression was not demotivated and grumpy at all - instead, you looked like you were happy, despite the redness in your eyes.

“How did it go?” he asked immediately, closing the book and intertwining his long fingers with yours.

“Surprisingly well. She was sober,” you said, grinning, heart swelling at the thought that you had finally sorted everything out with her, “she was sober, Tae. And she said, she’ll go to rehab and try to get better. She even told me she loved me!”

You felt your eyes sting again and brought your fingers up to wipe away a tear before it could escape to roll down your cheek. At the sight of you, Taehyung’s chest heated up, and he remembered how this happiness was the reason he had put his heart in your palms, ready to let you do whatever you deemed fit with it.

“I’m so happy to hear that, baby. I told you it’s worth a try,” he said, bringing your knuckles to his lips to press soft kisses on them. “I’m so, so glad you’re happy.”

“I am. I really am.”

“You know what’s left now?”

You raised your eyebrow in question before he answered. “Introducing your boyfriend to your mom.”

“Patience, grasshoper. She just started to like me again!”

He slapped your forehead, and you flinched, although you had barely felt it. “She’s always loved you, you idiot. What is it with you still not understanding the concept of love?”

You smiled. The everlasting joke had never died between you; he’d always tease you about this, although he knew how full your heart was for everyone around you, how much you loved your mother, what you felt for him.

And he deserved your affection, too. In the last two months, he had shown you nothing but support, kindness and passion. Yes, admittedly, you were still kind of in your honeymoon phase, but the way he handled you and your outbursts gave you the feeling he was the person that’d stick with you.

He proved this not only with small gestures, lovely surprises and sweet promises that he kept, but also with every conversation you’d have about your past, the death of your father, the hell you had gone through after that. Taehyung just… always seemed to know what to say.

You tried to give him all that back, but always felt like it would never do his gracious heart justice. And while you both had not yet used the word love, especially given the fact how early in your relationship you were, a feeling very similar to this seemed to always linger on your tongues. It almost felt like the beginning of it, the start of falling into the depths of what authors described on their pages, in their words and in their metaphors.

“I knew it would work out. I was sitting here and hoping all the time to not see you come out depressed,” Taehyung said, sighing.

“Sounds like you,” you told him, booping his nose to make him smile, “but I do feel like it’s going to be hard. We have a rocky path ahead of us.”

Then, he laughed, remembering words you had once said to him, only to give them back to you now as reassurance. “Where there is hope, there is always hardship.”

You laughed and then you knew for sure.

This was definitely the definition of what felt like love.

If you liked the story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment/sending an ask! I always love hearing from you! <3

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

Text

Maximum Pleasure

18+ Spencer x Reader x Max

Summary: Max always brags about all the sex she's been having recently, Reader gets jealous and so the only logical thing to do would be to invite her into bed as well

a/n: based on this post on my nsfw account!

warnings: threesomes, bi reader, perv!spencer, coming out, repressed bisexuality. Oral sex (reader and max receiving), Protected sex, penetrative sex, Jealousy, possessiveness, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2.4K

There were only so many times she could fake a smile and a nod and say “oh really?” When her best friend was talking about the crazy sex they were having with this guy they met at the park. He’s a fed, been to prison and she’s only using him for his dick.

“Wow,” she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “You are actually lucky, you know that right? His dick might be wonderful but like… he’s a person too, and he probably doesn’t appreciate you using him.”

Max nods, “yeah I mean… you know me. I’m not the married with kids type and that’s what he’s aiming for… I just don’t know how to tell him I just want to have sex?”

She shrugs, “I wish this was my biggest problem, I wish I had men swarming me at the park offering to marry me and spend the rest of their life with me.”

“Okay sounds like you need to get laid and hop off my dick,” max fights back like a sister would. “or… you could join us?”

“No,” she answers abruptly, shaking her head, “I can’t do that.” Max’s brows raise and she shrugs as if to say why not.

“You can’t be serious? What are you going to do? Just sit there and hold my hand while he fucks me?”

“Yeah actually, why not? He’s just my boyfriend it’s not like I own him? Go for it,” she smiles. “I’ll ask him if we can bring in a third, he’s been really open about kinks and shit actually, so he might like this.”

Her eyes go wide, “He isn’t like a weird sex freak right?”

She laughs, “no, I thought he was a virgin at first but he’s just a perv honestly. He’s hard all the time, he could cum just watching my tits jiggle when I walk down the stairs.” She laughs into her glass of wine. “I bet he would just love to bend me over and take me all day long as if I’m not tired after everything I do at work and listening to him all day too…”

“You complain a lot for someone who’s constantly getting laid?” She replies, feeling defensive for this poor guy who has to deal with Max all day.

Y/N loved her friend, she really did. It was just a little tiring hearing every complaint, especially when she was having such a hard time in the dating world herself.

“You know what, smart ass, he’s going to end up liking you more than me…” Max presses her lips together, thinking it over a bit inside her mind and then tilting her head to the side, “and actually, you guys would be good together, this is going to be interesting.

She laughs, “fuck, well, okay… let me meet this Spencer fellow.”

—

Max is the one rolling her eyes all night at dinner as Spencer gets to know the girl he’s going to fuck tonight. Yet he’s acting like he’s courting her… he’s putting in so much effort, effort that Max looks accustomed to and it makes Y/N’s stomach flutter. She has no idea how her best friend could complain about any of this, especially the conversation aspect…

“So, I’m sorry, what was the other one? Physics?” She asks, trying to keep track on her hands of all the titles he has added to his name.

“Math,” he smiles. “And I did engineering first, and chemistry last, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do so I started a Masters degree in Psychology and then I met someone from the FBI who took me in.”

“So do you go in after they’ve been caught or are there actual serial killers still in America?” It sounds like a dumb question but she honestly hasn’t thought about it enough to consider it.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles but he looks uncomfortable by it. “Far more than I wish, they estimate 30 serial killers are at large at any given moment… women are harder to catch and it's partially because they’re so good we don’t even know they’re doing it.”

“Oh,” her brows raise, “do you think I could get away with murder?”

He smirks again, reaching out for her hand and rubbing his thumb over her skin, “with those eyes? I’d let you get away with anything.”

“Oh you’re good,” she smirks, getting lost in his eyes and wondering how the Fuck anyone could ever think this was too much.

“I knew getting you two in the same room was going to be like this…”

“Hey,” they reply at the same time before turning to one another with fond smiles.

“Disgusting,” Max teases. “But if you want to get the check and head back, I think I’m ready for the show part of this night?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” she nods more than she should because the nerves settle in then.

For all the years that she’s known Max, through every up and down and drunk night, she’s never been this up close and personal with her naked body. they’ve changed in front of one another, they’ve approved each other's nudes… but nothing like this.

“How are we going to do this?” Y/N asks in the elevator up to Max’s apartment.

“I kinda just want to watch?” Max shrugs, “I charged my vibe, I’ve got a good seat, you two can do whatever.”

It makes them laugh, “and Spencer’s supposed to be the perv?”

“You called me a perv?” Spencer pretends to be shocked and offended as the doors open. “I can’t believe you would say such a thing.”

“Have fun with him,” she pats Y/N’s shoulder and shakes her head as she walks into the hallway.

Spencer takes her hand then, looking at her gently, “you don’t have to do this, you know that right?”

“I want to,” she admits. “Can we just have like 5 minutes to talk about this alone before it starts?”

“Yeah,” he replies and looks down the hall to Max, “we’ll be in in a few minutes.”

“Hurry,” is all she says before disappearing into her apartment.

“She doesn’t like you,” Y/N whispers. “Every time we talk she wants advice on how to let you down easy because you want a wife and kids one day and she just likes the sex. I don’t just need the sex…”

“Oh,” he loses his breath, staring into her eyes and understanding why she’s so upset.

“I don't know if I can do this, knowing you’re going to go back to her and give out all this energy to someone who doesn’t crave it,” she shrugs as it leaves her mouth. “I think you’re really wonderful, if you’re okay with that?”

“What’s funny to me is I knew she wasn’t interested in me the way I am in her, but I didn’t realize how much she didn’t care until you listened to me talk,” he admits. “So I’ll tell you what, if we do this and you still want me, I’ll let her down easy.”

“You’d do that?” She smiles, “really?”

“You said it yourself, she doesn’t like me,” he moves in closer, his breath on her lips he’s so close. “So why would she be sad if I left her?”

“Fair point,” she whispers back, leaning in more and brushing her bottom lip against his.

And then he’s kissing her, holding her face in his hands as his tongue enters her mouth and she becomes his. She’s so lost in his touch she doesn’t hear the door open and max’s laugh as she watches them kiss in the hallway, “are you coming in or what?”

They pull away from each other with swollen lips, wiping their mouths before Spencer clears his throat and they follow her inside. She closes the door and dramatically extends her hand, “continue.”

Spencer immediately kisses her again, reaching a hand under her ass and lifting her up, he carries her right to Max’s bedroom. A room she’s spent a lot of her adult life in, crying about her ex and thinking this sort of romance was never going to find her…

But as Spencer lays her down and strips her off her clothes, kissing every inch of her body and making her feel like a goddess… she can’t even begin to imagine taking any of this for granted.

As he spreads her legs and kisses the inside of her thighs. She plays with his hair as she watches him eat her out with intent, “fuck, you’re so good at this.”

“Told you,” Max laughs, and suddenly Y/N remembers she’s there. Standing beside the bed, she pets Y/N’s hair gently before sitting beside her, just as naked as Y/N, palming her chest as she watches Spencer go.

He pumps two fingers in and out of her, looking up at her as his tongue darts across her clit and she can barely keep her eyes open with how much pleasure she’s in. “Fuck,” she whines, “please?”

Max laughs, “make her cum Spence.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles against her clit, sucking it back into his mouth as his fingers change the angle and the sensation in her stomach grows.

She grips her chest, holding her breast for support as she reaches her orgasm. Holding Spencer’s hair with her other hand, pushing him in closer and wordlessly begging for more.

She pulls back, grin on his face and her nectar on his chin, Max pulls him in for a quick kiss. Tasting her best friends on his tongue and patting his cheek lightly, “fuck her brains out, baby.”

It makes her stomach churn, but then he comes back down to kiss her, where he belongs. She can taste herself, and Max’s taste lingers as well. Like the wine from earlier and whatever cigarettes she was smoking this week in an attempt to cut back. But the more they kiss and the longer Spencer’s bulge rubs between her and the fabric of his boxers, the more he really starts to feel like hers.

He slips out of his boxers, reaching out for a condom from Max and sliding it over himself. “Here comes the fun part,” she teases, running her hand over Y/N’s hair and looking down at her gently, in a way she’s seen before.

“You can kiss me too,” Y/N whispers, ��I know you wanted to…”

Max has always struggled with accepting the fact she likes girls too. She’s asked more than once what it’s like for Y/N to sleep with women, living vicariously through her and always looking at her lips as she explains like she wanted more.

Max lays down beside her, kissing her lips ever so gently for the first time ever. Y/N reaches out to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss as Spencer spreads her legs and she feels his cock slide against her clit.

She moans into her best friend's mouth, and that’s when Max’s hand comes up to cup her boobs and moan right back. This is what she wanted, an excuse to fuck a girl for the first time, and she used Spencer once again to do it.

And then her kisses spread down her neck and to her chest. Leaving both Spencer and Max to take a nipple each, showing her more pleasure than she’s ever known as Spencer pushed inside of her. She cried out in pleasure, more than she thought she would be feeling and she loved it.

But she grabbed Spencer's hair and pulled him back up into a kiss, “fuck you feel so good,” Y/N whined, connecting their lips while Max kissed her shoulder and neck, reaching between to rub her clit while Spencer fucked her.

“Like that?” Max asked, “God, you’re so fucking hot when you’re all strung out like this.”

“Fuck,” she pants, Spencer’s kisses trail to her neck, “flip me, please? Max come here.”

They oblige, ending up with Y/N on her hands and knees in front of Max’s spread legs, Spencer lining up behind her and pushing inside. She moans again at the feeling of him filling her once more, before putting her mouth to better use on Max’s cunt.

Sensually sucking on her best friend's clit, this is something she’s thought about doing but never in her life did she think they’d actually do it. Resting her head against Max’s thigh and rubbing her clit with her fingers when Spencer’s thrusts got to be too much, closing her eyes and panting with each thrust.

“Mmm,” Max was just as close as Y/N was, for a second time, turning around to look at Spencer, she wanted to be closer to him but she wanted Max to cum and be done first.

Putting her lips back on her clit, she fingers Max just as Spencer did to her. Getting her closer and closer until max is heaving and thrashing and cumming on her face with a shout. And that’s when Spencer pulls her off, flips her back over and pile drives into her with a new found vigour.

Y/N pulls him into another kiss, making out with him like his tongue is her favourite meal and she’s got 12 hours left to live. Their hips meet over and over, grinding with each thrust, she’s so fucking close her legs are shaking as she wraps them around him. She whimpers into his mouth, pleading with him to let her cum, when his lips detach from her’s and he looks down at her softly. “Cum baby.”

“Oh,” she cries out, tossing her head back and cumming with convulsions on his cock as he fucks her through it.

He fills the condom, slowing but not stopping, pumping through it as he watches her. Max watches in awe as well, petting Y/N’s hair again and smiling down at her, “you did so good.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, still so fucked out and blissful.

“I’m going to get us cleaned up,” Spencer says, slipping out of his girlfriend's best friend and leaving the room.

“Don’t hate me, but I think I love your boyfriend,” she laughs at the stupidity, but it’s there. A feeling she hasn’t ever felt after sex.

She laughs in return, but then Max says the craziest thing. “It’s okay, if you two want each other that’s okay with me. I think I’m done with men for a bit.”

“Finally,” Y/N cheers, wrapping her arms around Max and pulling her down into a hug. “I’m proud of you max.”

“Thanks for showing me what I’ve been missing,” she adds, “I’m sad this was only a one-time thing for us.”

“I’m sorry,” she shrugs, “maybe we can find you someone for you?”

“My boss is a lesbian,” Spencer says from the bathroom doorway, “sorry to listen in, but I thought I’d let you know… I can hook you up with her?”

“You’d do that?” Max looks at him with disbelief.

He simply nods as he returns to the bed and runs a warm washcloth over Y/N and carefully caresses her body. Taking care of them both so gently.

“You introduced me to Y/N, I should repay the favour,” he’s rather mature about it. “Are you sure you’re okay if I was to ask her out again?”

“Take care of her or I’ll be the one trying to get away with murder.”

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moemoemammon · 3 years ago

Note

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

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chateautae · 4 years ago

Text

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning?

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.”

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.”

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.”

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.”

“And why is that?”

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.”

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.”

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.”

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!”

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.”

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across.

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him.

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now.

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face.

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more.

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.”

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?”

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?”

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move.

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book.

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg.

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her?

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct.

You just seemed different.

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!”

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?”

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!”

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?”

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air.

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...”

“Marriage, huh?”

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away.

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied.

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him.

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all.

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?”

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped.

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated.

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet.

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life.

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed.

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?”

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage.

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands.

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life.

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man?

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating.

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall.

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general.

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his.

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.”

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly.

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you.

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go.

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together.

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back.

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?”

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.”

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest.

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands.

It was kinda cute.

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized.

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now?

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake.

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct.

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’.

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest.

You feel him tense underneath you.

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation.

“Yes, so you do remember!”

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding.

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around.

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait.

Oh God, not him.

Anything but him.

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was?

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be.

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear?

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something?

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name.

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!”

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking.

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem.

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering.

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead.

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable.

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself.

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong.

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold.

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong.

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep.

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Better than ever. You?”

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation.

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively.

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately.

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you.

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle.

Dear God, you took your time with this one.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream.

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for.

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips.

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore?

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you?

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours.

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief.

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise.

“So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face.

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock.

“Says the one who was thinking about me.”

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you.

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you.

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?”

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall.

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve.

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband.

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests.

It was the day of the wedding.

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today.

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony.

And none of it was your real choice.

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite.

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another.

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own.

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage.

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself.

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event.

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept.

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye.

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself.

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate.

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips.

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy.

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate.

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life.

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love.

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering.

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you.

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of.

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from.

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light.

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.

He at least owed you that.

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life.

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection.

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue.

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner.

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner.

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested.

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful.

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official.

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally.

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play.

The fool.

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so.

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again.

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous.

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains.

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think.

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe.

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one.

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move.

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either.

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him.

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner.

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room.

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed.

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him.

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up.

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?”

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions.

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so.

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush.

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed.

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight.

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look.

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting.

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly.

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution.

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar.

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things.

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself.

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked?

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute.

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss.

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange.

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it.

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you.

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve.

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened.

You took a deep breath.

Maybe Taehyung is different after all.

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#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung arranged marriage au

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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years ago

Text

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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smellslikemultifandomimagines · 3 years ago

Note

an nsfw alphabet from Jason todd of titans please

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader

warnings: smut → nsfw alphabet

headcanon 🖤

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

requests for the sleepover are open🖤!

request guidelines here✨!

smut night masterlist

🌻masterlist🌻

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason would be super cute!!

He’d run a bath, ask if you’re okay, cuddle

If you were feeling sore, he’d get a cold cloth for you

And would pepper you in kisses bc he knows how lucky he is to have you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Tits and ass — I think that’s a given with Jason ahah

His favourite body part of his would probably be arms i suppose

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ahh he'd love to make you cum!

honestly i think it's like a hobby for him - to make you feel good, not because he feels he has to, but because he knows he can

i'd imagine he'd love cumming on your tits

and my lord, don't get me started if you ever squirted (not that he'd expect you to, but if you ever did homeboy would just be like :o)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i feel like jason would have a big thing for pda - to be able to show you off (not like a trophey kind of thing / controlling way) would be of considerable value to him

it would be more to show everyone that you're together - that he can show everyone, including you of course ahah, how good of a boyfriend he can be for you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You know what, probably not a lot

Maybe he’s experienced sex with a previous girlfriend, but that’ll be about it

I think with you, he’d be a little bit more open to experimenting things??

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy ahaha

I bet he could fuck harder, faster, and generally better when you’re on all fours in front of him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ahh Jason would love a good laugh

Like I don’t think sex with him is all serious anyway

i kind of feel like he wouldn't believe that you had to be serious in order to be intimate ya know

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Um probably ahah I mean have you seen how he does his hair?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

as mentioned before, i think he'd just take the moment as it is

whether the two of you are having super cute, intimate sex or whether you guys are simply fucking

that being said though, jason would be super into special occasions, be it either one of your birthdays, any anniversaries, or even after a cute date

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

lmao it's pretty much cannon that jason jacks off so i'd say he'd do it a fair bit

however, since the two of you got together (or if you're fwb), he doesn't really feel the need bc he's got you

but on some occasions when you're not available or not even at the tower bc you're working with donna or something and he really needs you, that's when i reckon he'd do it

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I’ve actually talked about this before 🥰

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His room for starters

But would love sneaky sex in the tower bathroom, especially in the shower

Bet they’d be one time when everyone was out, leaving you and Jason alone in the tower and you’d fuck on every piece of furniture there is ahah

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you tease him!!

praising

when you and him are training and it gets competitive

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Probably anything that’ll make you uncomfortable tbh

Plus maybe unusual kinks like golden showers or anything like that

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving! Giving! giving!

He is such a giver

And honestly he would go down on you for hours if he could

He loves having your thighs shake around his head while he’s eating you out or how your body would shake when you cum around his cock while he fucks you

but i mean that being said, he'd also love when you go down on him too aha

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Okay so here’s the thing: I think it depends

As much as Jason loves hard and fast, I feel like he’d also love slow and sensual

Especially when the two of you are first becoming intimate with each other

Bc I feel like we can’t deny the fact that he’ll be nervous as hell sometimes

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Literally before training

Or after training when the others are in the shower or eating in the kitchen

Before bed

When you wake up

Literally anytime you and him are alone, you’re either fucking or doing actual cute stuff like watching a movie or something

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

lmao yeah just like i said before, he'd love risking it in the kitchen / bathroom - especially when the others are home

jason would be pretty open to experimenting too tbh - sex is quite the exploration task, isn't it?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

That boy has stamina, are you kidding me?! Like have you seen him train?

Homeboy could go for hours

But I feel like it would switch between you two of you being on top ya know

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he’d be open to toys like vibrators and handcuffs - i mean that boy seems super kinky, right?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

orgasm. Denial.

He loves watching you plead, squirm, whine — literally do anything to cum

He’d love taking his hand away, or taking his cock out at random moments, watching you with such cockiness and arrogance as you beg him to make you cum

I feel like he’d love sensual play too — teasing you while your tied up and/or blindfolded would be such a kicker for him

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Soft — anything ranging from grunts, to small moans that slip through his bitten lip

honestly, he'd rather hear you than hear himself moan lmao

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

jason would have a thing for hearing you beg

i can imagine it's such an ego booster for him - i mean he's arrogant and cocky enough, and having you beg and whine for him just boosts it

ooh also when he's fucked you so good, you're lying on the bed completely fucked out and exhausted

and bonus points if you can't walk all that well the next day lmao

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

lol i think he'd have a pretty nice cock ya know

not too big, not too small

he'd know how to use it though

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ahaha I think we all know he’s one horny bitch

So literally anytime you feel up to it, he’s ready

Or even just any chance you get to fuck, he’s already prepared ahah

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i dont think he'd fall asleep straight away

like he'd maybe wait for you to fall asleep while he plays with your hair

on some occasions though he might be super quick to fall asleep, especially after a rough and/or hard day of training and he's just super exhausted

#jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd titans #titans #titans smut #smut night #1k+ followers sleepover

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justauthoring · 4 years ago

Text

The Long Wait

Prompt: Eventually, the hoping became too much to bare. Requested by: no one.

A/N: This is basically a remake of this fic -- upon re-watching the GMG arc with my mom, I couldn’t help but look back at this fic and realize how much more I could’ve done with it. Thus, this was born. Pairing: Gray Fullbuster x F!Reader

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Keeping your gaze trained to the ground, you absolutely refuse to look up -- because you know that if you did, your heart would break all over again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, words jumbled together, voice quiet that if the guild hall was so completely silent, they definitely wouldn’t have heard you. But they do, and they falter at the way you sound so absolutely broken. And of course, all of them were, but there was something different about the way you sounded -- it was like you were defeated.

Macao steps towards her, you hear it rather then see it, and can imagine his hand stretched out towards you, trying to placate you. “Y/N, we understand--” and he halts, voice catching in the back of his throat. “We understand more then anyone how you feel, but--”

“It’s different.” You find yourself cutting in, voice sharp, and you wince at yourself because you sound so incredibly selfish and rude. Who were you to say that your pain was any different from theirs? Any worse? But, still, you continue, your emotions getting the better of you. “It’s just... different. I... I can’t be here knowing they’re... he’s gone.”

“Y/N-nee, we don’t know that they’re gone!”

Your eyes fall shut at the sound of Romeo’s voice.

“We have to keep searching for them,” he argues, defiant, adamantly shaking his head. “They’re somewhere out there, I know that. And Gray wouldn’t--”

“They’re gone,” you hiss, interrupting him and finally glancing up to regard your friends, your family. They rear back at your harsh words, and that guilt festers even deeper inside of your chest, with the way they’re looking at you. Jet and Droy look near tears, and you know they’re thinking of Levy. And Bisca and Alzack look in shock at your outburst, you’re usually so quiet and calm. Macao looks angry, and the rest just stare at you, varying reactions that all mesh together.

Because really, it’s the way Romeo looks at you, still so young, so full hope as your words basically slap him in the face.

But you’re too far gone now, and there’s no stopping you.

“It’s been two years,” you continue, voice softer but still cutting, still hurtful. “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.”

He’s never coming back.

They don’t respond. No one argues, even if some look like they might. Maybe they’re understanding, maybe they’re finally getting it -- it’s been too long now and no one from the island is coming back. You’d been hopeful at first, you’d been like Romeo -- you’d refused to lose hope. But your heart is broken and there’s no mending it and you can’t keep staring at those doors all day expecting, hoping, praying that he’ll walk through them only for him never to.

So, you turn, nothing but a soft, sorrowful, pathetic apology leaving your lips as you turn your backs on your friends and leave them.

And as you turn, you see his familiar face, the dark black of his hair, that drawling smirk on his lips, and his cold, but always soft when directed at you eyes looking at you, but when you blink, he’s gone.

You huff at the weight dropped around your shoulders, inhaling deeply when you see a familiar puff of blonde hair.

“Did you hear?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. It’s pretty obvious.

“Fairy Tail will be competing again this year.”

When you turn to look at Sting, he’s smirking -- all bright eyed and giddy, and you hold back your own snark as you regard him with a small nod. Sting was one of the few to know of the fact that you used to be part of Fairy Tail -- him and Rogue, given that they were the ones who recruited you, and then the master as well.

It wasn’t news you were eager for everyone to know. Fairy Tail was a laughing stock in all respects now, but Sabertooth seemed to have a particular fondness of mocking the way the guild had fallen. And it was easy to hide you’d ever been apart of it given you hadn’t been a particularly well-known mage back when you’d been a member. Your powers were relatively new, and with, regrettably, the help of the Twin Dragon slayers you’d definitely grown in aspects of strength.

Three years since you’d joined Sabertooth -- two years of training on your own, and three of being surrounded by much stronger mages had you adapting and constantly changing. You were practically unrecognizable.

You were known at Y/N of Sabertooth now, and it was like the Y/N of Fairy Tail never even existed at all.

“I’m surprised,” you hum, shifting as Sting moves to take a seat next to you, still whilst having an arm draped over your arm. You blink at the sudden arrival of Rogue, not having heard him, as he takes a seat in front of you, before continuing. “They weren’t in it last year, or the year before if I remember. After finishing last every year before.”

You hadn’t been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but you do remember watching.

It had been... hard, to say the least.

“Ah, well, this year they have a new team.” Rogue explains blandly.

“New members, you should say,” Sting smirks.

Brows furrowed, you shake your head at their words, confusion flooding at you at the particular gleefulness of Sting’s expression. He always got a kick out of embarrassing other teams, not even just Fairy Tail, but there was something different about the way his eyes sparkled.

Sting meets your gaze, and without wavering, adds; “or should I say, old?”

Your breath catches, and even as your mind starts spinning, you’re all too aware of the way both Sting and Rogue are watching you carefully.

You turn from Rogue to Sting, and absolutely hate the gleam in the latter’s eyes as he smirks down at you. Keeping a tight hold on you, he pulls you closer, leaning until he’s a breaths away; “it’s a good thing I managed to convince the Master to let you on the team this year, Y/N,” he grins widely, “you’ll get to reunite with your old pales.”

That... that couldn’t be possible.

They were--They were dead. They are dead.

“I... I need some fresh air.” Shoving Sting’s arm off of you, you ignore his calls and his merciless laughter as you stock out the guild doors, bypassing Minerva which you know will get you in shit later. You don’t really care in that moment, you can’t even think straight, you need air.

You need to breathe.

Sting must be lying. He has to be lying. There’s... they were dead, it’s been seven years.

Seven years.

How... why now? Why after all this time?

And you convince yourself he isn’t lying. You ignore Sting every time he tries to talk to you, and focus on training. It would be no good if you failed since you were on the roster this year -- Master would kill you if you failed to impress him and keep Sabertooth at the very top. And it’s easy enough to do, spend all your time training, pushing yourself to the brink, until it’s a few days before the games and you realize, Sting wasn’t lying.

You’d been trying to ignore it, ignore the urge, but eventually you give in and find yourself in the city of Magnolia. A place you haven’t been in a long time.

Fairy Tail’s location had changed, but you’d made sure to keep tabs on them. You never showed your face, mainly because you knew that in the end, you’d betrayed your friends. In their eyes, you assumed, you were the enemy, a traitor. You’d left them, left your guild in a time they’d needed you most, and almost instantly regretted it.

But every time you tried to go back, every time you made your way towards those doors, you’d remember the words you’d said -- “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.” -- and, like a coward, you were never able to face them.

From the moment you’d left, all you’d wanted to do was go back but it was too late for that now. And so you settled for keeping tabs, helping them where you could, always in secret -- you knew how they owed money, and you didn’t have a lot, but you always anonymously send some the guild’s way in hopes of helping. Sabertooth would kill you if they found out, specifically Sting, but it was your way of repaying all the hurt you must’ve caused them.

It’s why you know their new location. And, without even being there for more then five minutes, you see them.

A blue flying cat, followed by a white one, a tuff of pink hair, red hair, blue hair, blonde and most importantly, him. His dark hair, the fact that nothing’s changed and he looks exactly like he had those seven years ago when you’d wished him good luck on the S Class competition, and pressed a shy, chaste kiss to his cheek, the two of you blushing madly as he left, waving you goodbye.

But, they were there. He was there.

“And last but certainly not least, is the team that came first in the preliminaries... that’s right, you know them, you love them! Now, get on your feet and scream for the most powerful guild in all Fiore! The one and only, Sabertooth!”

You wince at the cheering, two steps behind everyone else as Sting makes his grand entrance, looking thoroughly most pleased and proud of himself then anyone else. However, even you can see the smirk on Rufus’ and Orga’s face.

If anything, it’s you and Rogue that don’t look all that excited.

And you, for a specific reason. One that stares you right in the face the second you walk into the arena.

Elfman, Erza, Lucy, Natsu, but more importantly, Gray all look at you the second your team arrives. You can even feel Fairy Tail team B, and the rest of the guild up in the stands watching you and only you. You also notice with disdain that Sting had purposefully made way for you to be seen, even if you hadn’t been that hidden, you would’ve rather remained in the shadows.

That, and you’re not exactly sure what to say as they all stare at you.

“Y/N?!”

It’s Natsu who yells it, but it’s Lucy who steps towards you, baffled and confused; “Y/N, what’re you...”

But you only lower your gaze, eyes falling shut as Sting pulls you into his side, laughing loudly. “What a reunion!” He cheers, pumping his fist in the air, before turning to you. “Isn’t it so great to see all your old guildmates, Y/N?”

You meet their eyes, just as the announcer calls out;

“What’s this? A reunion? Could it be perhaps that Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N was once a member of Fairy Tail? What a twist on her debut in the Grand Magic Games!”

“This is so not man...”

Turning your head at the sound of Elfman’s voice, your breath catches in the back of your throat.

“Elfman,” Erza says sharply, pulling your eyes back on her and thus the rest of them, noticing with a thick swallow the way her eyes have never left your own. “I’m sure Y/N has her reasons.”

But as she stares at you, waiting for you to say something, you simply turn, walking off.

“I didn’t know you used to be in Fairy Tail,” Rufus drawls to you when you pass him, and your shoulders tighten.

That’s right... now, everyone knew.

“You never needed to know,” you say simply.

“Y/N.”

“It seems Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster approaches Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N, and the crowd watches in anticipation at the clear tension amongst the two of them--.”

Everything freezes. Shoulders tensing, you slowly turn, meeting Gray’s eyes -- the one you’d been specifically avoiding.

“We won’t lose.”

I know, you want to say. I don’t want you to, you want to tell him. I want Fairy Tail to win, you want to plead. But instead, knowing the eyes that watch you, you simply say; “neither will Sabertooth.”

This had to be some cruel joke.

Your punishment, maybe.

Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N versus Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster

That’s what the board said, that what that God awful announcer calls with clear joy in his voice -- your first battle, the second day of the Games, and this way the turn out.

There was no way you’d win.

Ignoring the fact that you had no doubt Gray was stronger then you -- you simply just couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Not against Fairy Tail and certainly not against Gray.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Sting calls as you move to make your way towards the arena. “Though I doubt you’ll need it.”

You hate his words, hate the way he knows, hate the way he seems to get such joy out of everything that had happened. This was his fault. His fucking fault that you were here, and that this was happening.

Though, of course, even you knew that was true.

“Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N has never been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but we can expect something great from Fiore’s strongest guild, needless to say. Do you know anything about Y/N Y/L/N, Yajima-san?”

“I don’t know much about Y/’N now, but in her Fairy Tail days, she never really made a name for herself, but I do distinctly remember her powers being incredibly unique.”

“Ah! A mystery then. And of course, Fairy Tail’s Gray Fullbuster is a Ice Wizard, but after his performance in day one’s Hidden Competition, the crowd’s not too sure what to expect. Nonetheless, it should be an intense match between old guildmates now turned enemy’s.”

“Shut up,” you hiss to yourself, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

“Ah, I see you’re just as chipper as you used to be.”

Swallowing thickly, you inhale sharply as Gray comes to a stop a few feet before you. It’s closest you’ve been to him since that first day, and more importantly, then in seven years. You’d already known since that day, but he really does look exactly like he had that day. Hasn’t aged a day. You don’t know the story, you don’t know how he’s back, but you know you’ve heard the term ‘seven year blank’ echoing around.

That makes more sense as you stare at him now.

Still eighteen, you’re now older then him then a year younger like you had been before.

Remaining silent, your head tilts back, where you know Sabertooth is, chest tightening.

“Y/N.”

Turning to Gray at the sound of your name, your lips part when you noticed the way his eyes have softened, even if only a little, like he caught something in the past moment you’d turned away from him. He looks so much more... concerned then he had the first day, and that was only yesterday. When he’d called for you, he’d looked so angry...

Now, he only looked worried.

“What happened?”

Swallowing thickly, you try to appear unbothered. “I left.”

“There’s more to it, I know there is,” Gray shakes his head, “the others told us about the day--”

Eyes clenching shut, a simply jerk of your head has Gray flying back. It causes a roar of gasps, surprise and anticipation in the thought that the fight is finally starting. But you know, unlike them, that it won’t get farther then that -- at least not from your end.

Gray hisses, slowly crawling to his feet, before he smirks at you; “you’ve gotten strong.”

“It’s been seven years.”

“Still,” he shrugs, stopping before you once again. “You have control now.”

You shrug, mimicking him with a smirk, “it’s been seven years.”

However, the facade falls all too quick when he takes a step towards you. Your body tenses, fists clenching as he continues to make his way towards you until he’s directly before you. He eyes you for a moment, quiet, carefully, and you nearly break then and there.

“It may have been seven years, but I know you best,” he whispers, voice low, “I know you’re lying.”

You shake your head, pushing his words away from your thoughts; “attack me.”

And he blinks, surprised; “what?”

“I need you to attack me,” you repeat, keeping your eyes trained downwards, refusing to meet his eyes. “I... I just need you to.”

And part of you expects him to -- you deserve it, you know, after all you’d done.

But, a second later, Gray’s stepping back, pulling your wide eyes on him as he shakes his head; “Fairy Tail doesn’t attack their own friends, Y/N. You know that.” And your breath hitches when his hand moves to raise.

“No!” You yell, before you can help yourself, eyes flashing a bright gold, like they had seconds before, holding Gray’s arm in place as he blinks back at you. Letting out a soft whimper, one you hope he doesn’t hear, you hold his arm in place, eyes falling shut as your own arm raises, the crowd falling eerily silent.

“I give up.”

And you knew, even as you feel the glares on your back, that there really wasn’t any other outcome that could’ve happened. You’d never hurt Gray, you knew, and you refused to hurt Fairy Tail anymore.

You were destined to lose this match.

“What’s so special about those fairies, huh?”

Wincing, you gasp at the squeeze on your throat, trying to suck in air that won’t come as your eyes fall on Sting’s own narrowed ones, glaring down at you. The brick of the wall behind you bites into your skin, and you know his grip will leave bruises, but even as you gasp for air and it feels like your vision is closing in on you, you have no regrets.

You never would, even if it’ll get you killed.

“What’s so fucking special about them?”

You refuse to respond, even if Sting wasn’t blocking off your air way you wouldn’t. Even if you could easily knock him away, send him flying, you don’t -- you’ll only pay for it more later.

“What’s so special about him?!”

He drops you then, and you fall to your knees with a thud, a cry leaving your lips as he sends a sharp kick to your gut, causing you to double over. It takes you a moment, a solid minute to catch your breath, and even then you’re still gasping, voice raspy as you raise your chin, eyes narrowing as you say the words you’ve been wanting to say to Sting for years.

“Fairy Tail is the guild Sabertooth could never be,” you hiss, your voice pathetic but your gaze menacing. “And Gray is a better man than you’ll ever be. All of them are. You’ll never be as good as Natsu.” You hit him where you know it hurts, the words having been on the tip of your tongue for years but you’d always held back in fear of what would happen.

Well, you’re no longer afraid. You’re too far gone now.

Sting’s eyes narrow and his face twists, ready to explode, before he breathes, and a smirk curls onto his lips. “You’ll never be apart of your pathetic guild again,” he hisses, “you’ll be stuck in Sabertooth for the rest of your life. Only, Master will make sure your life is a living hell.”

He sends another sharp kick at your side, but says nothing more as he turns, walking off with a huff.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself, slowly pushing yourself up to your knees where you stay, chest heaving, the pain radiating across your entire body, fingers finding your neck and touching the offended skin gently as you hiss in response.

You didn’t regret surrendering, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of what would happen when you walked into the inn that night.

You never should’ve left Fairy Tail. It was a regret you’d probably take to your grave.

“We actually have points thanks to you.”

Blinking at the sound of Gray’s voice, you slowly glance up at him, arm still wrapped tightly around your stomach as you stare up at him.

“I’m glad,” you whisper, smiling gently, “Fairy Tail deserves to win.”

Gray sighs, and stepping towards you, he reaches a hand out; “here,” he says softly, voice a mere whisper. You meet his eyes, before glancing at his hand for a moment, slowly slipping your own in it. He helps you to your feet, holding you up as you waver, hissing in pain, and then, before you know it, before you can even help yourself, you fall against him, forehead pressing against his shoulder as you let out a whimper.

“You know,” Gray says after a moment, “I still remember that kiss.”

Shaking your head, you let out a quiet, somewhat forced laugh.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“You were gone,” you whisper, finally answering. “You all were, but you were too. And... And I couldn’t handle staring at those doors everyday waiting for you to walk through them, only for you never to.” Pulling back, you meet his eyes, “I love you, I wanted to tell you that day, and it crushed me that I never did.”

Hands falling on your waist, Gray shakes his head; “no one would tell me where you were when we came back. It’s like every time I asked, this look would come over them and everyone would fall silent. When I learned it had been seven years, I wanted to see you first and tell you... tell you, I love you too.”

Biting your lip, “it’s too late,” you whisper. “The others must hate me and I... Sting will never let me leave.”

Gray’s grip tightens. “They don’t hate you, Y/N. Everyone misses you. I miss you,” and then, he shifts, cupping your cheek to pull your eyes on his own again. “I need you to come back.”

“But... Sting--”

“We’ll figure it out, Master will figure it out,” Gray argues, shaking his head. “The Guild needs you. I need you.”

Lips parting, you try to find the words, only to realize there are none. So, instead, you simply fall into his arms, holding him tight against you and hold on to his promise.

#fairy tail #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail imagine #ft #ft x reader #gray fullbuster #gray fullbuster imagine #gray fullbuster x reader #gray imagine #gray x reader #imagine #imagines #my fics

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the7thcrow · 4 years ago

Text

600 degrees

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but��I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

“As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

thanks for reading loves <3

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