#enemies to friends to fake married to lovers

[wordy-little-witch]

Not me looking at your Polycrossguild convenience marriage au thinking about the wedding vows and how fun it would be if trough the entire “convenience to lovers” pipeline, that’s the thing they just can’t seem to get right while they all sit together and practice them like one would do trying to remember lines for a nativity play. None of them are into it, it all looks incredibly forced no matter what they do. No matter what they change or how much they practice it’s just…. Awful. Stiff. So obviously a marriage of convenience thing it hurts.

But after a whole lot of confusing feelings and low key romcom shenanigans the wedding happens and they are all so done they go off script… and it works… kinda. Because if you read their vows on paper they would read like the most horrid vows you ever seen. Mihawk only speaks a few words, Buggy’s stutters out his and it seems like a weird tangent and Crocodile…. Basically straight up passive aggressively insults his husband’s through the entire thing…. But it’s by far the most genuine “performance” of their vows these three have given.

Hawkeye doesn’t say much, he rarely does, but when he squeezes his soon to be husbands hands it’s clear to say anything more would be unnecessary . Buggy is flustered and in love and is trying his damndest to get over himself trying to express that, using a metaphor only the three of them would get because Mihawk used it as a snippy commentary about this shit show when they first started practicing together. And nobody has ever seen Sir Crocodile smile so fondly at anything that wasn’t a Bananawani, even as he expresses annoyance at the men in front of him.

Iiiii dunno if I’m even making sense here, just got struck with the mental image of Crocodile smiling at Buggy and calling him “My beloved little pest of a clown.” And Buggy looking up at him, smiling just as happily while trying to blink away the tears from his eyes.

OKAY LITERALLY THIS

Like. They're Idiots, Your Honor. They absolutely try EVRYTHING to make it seem "authentic", and so Mihawk's papers are written in calligraphy, with verbose prose that boios down to some Gonez Adams Level of simpage but lowkey because he has a reputation.

Crocodile's is written like a damn business agreement, with clauses and edited areas to update and revamp it. He cannot for the life of him find that middle ground of Decently Organized and Genuine.

Buggy's filled no less than three full journals in WIPs of it, and almost all are scribbled on, torn out and crumpled up, or nearly burned bc he raged and threw it into a bon fire.

Finally, day of, they're scrambling and losing their MINDS and suddenly Nobody Can Find The Vows. Everyone is panicking. Something may be on fire.

Ritchie is found with glitter gel pen on his muzzle.

They're gonna have to wind it.

They're all McLosing It.

At least, they were.

Then they catch sight of one another, and suddenly.... the world has stopped.

None of them are exactly traditional, but they make it work. Mihawk is in ruffles and frills, accenting the sleek lines of his body in black and ruby, with slim cut pants and high boots which only serve to make his figure that much more imposingly ethereal. Crocodile opts for suits on a normal day, but this one is different in the cut and style, muted but bold, glimmering but softer, a much more subtle display of wealth and poise which makes him ooze charisma like snake oil. And Buggy has forgone a suit all together, opting instead for a gown, a mermaid cut dress which hugged his curves perfectly, fabric shimmering between violet and red depending on the light with a silvery blazer openly draped and held across his shoulders via a rainbow of beads which matched the colorful hair pins holding his curls from his face and neck.

All three are breathless when they see one another, and suddenly the words are there - odd to an outsider, certainly, but true to the heart in a way visible to all.

Mihawk's short vow is met with a bark of laughter from Crocodile, a silvery giggle from Buggy.

Buggy's rambling stuttered mess becomes teary and he's suddenly bitching about his eyeliner running. Mihawk and Crocodile both crack smiles, even as Mihawk wordlessly passes over a handkerchief and Crocodile makes a comment on looking into waterproof liner later on together - mascara too, he mentions casually, because the brand Buggy likes released a new line a exile back, they'll look into it.

Crocodile's is bemoaning his taste in men, but it's oozing warmth, and when he catches himself getting a little too mushy in public, he actually blushes and scoffs. Mihawk and Buggy look delightfully on with impish smiles.

It's weird and off and anything but typical, but it feels so incredibly real to those involved.

Maybe a little too real to some...

Of course the shenanigans that ensue during their "honeymoon" are another thing entirely.... 👀

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

send 🚢 or ( 'SHIP' ) if you ever considered shipping our characters romantically and want me to fill out the following form for our muses. bold all that definitely applies, italicize what could potentially apply. feel free to add more if you think certain options are missing or you just want to add more.

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( what specifically? )

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( put whatever you want here )

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » 【note, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 12.5k

ꨄ a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated 😅 but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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series masterlist ꨄ︎ previous chapter ꨄ︎ next chapter →

ch 2 // under the spotlight

Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handed—though honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs.  

Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity – scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. You’re in the middle of prepping your daughter’s essentials, trying to make sure you don’t forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.

“Mama, mama, look!”

Haru’s innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, you’re drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.

Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, today’s the day you’re meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriage—weird.

It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought you’d be rushing into, especially not like this.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d marry Naoya Zenin.

Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.

His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasn’t long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now you’re left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.

But amidst your turmoil you found a precious gift—Haru.

Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mind—it always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.

You’ll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.

With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.

“Come here, sweetie,” you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.

She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.

Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.

“We’re going to meet some new friends today,” you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. “One of them is named Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo?” she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.

Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but you’re faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, you’re fired.

Well… temporarily.

Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isn’t feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is… your mom – as undependable as ever.

At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.

Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.

It’s no surprise he’ll likely use it against you—hold it over your head like a weapon. It’s a pattern you’re all too familiar with.

But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that you’re determined to make the best of for both you and your daughter—once this marriage is finalized, you’ll be back to earning a steady income again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo,” you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. “We’re going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.”

“An adventure!” Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.

Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. It’s unexpected, you weren’t anticipating any visitors.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Speak of the devil—Naoya.

He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when he’s least wanted.

His presence is as imposing as ever—a smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets—exuding an air of ownership over everything that’s around him.

As if he owns you.

Damn it. You really can’t deal with this right now; you don’t have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.

Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmless—like dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.

Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composure—refusing to let him see the effect he has on you.

"What do you want, Naoya? I really don’t have time for this today."

Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haru’s things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.

He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.

"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.”

As expected—you’re really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.

If you weren’t already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.

"We're fine, Naoya. We don’t need your help."

In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haru’s hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. How’s that working out for you?” he scowls as he peers through your apartment, “This place is a mess. And you don’t look like you’re dressed for work. Lost your job already?”

His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.

"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"

"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.

The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues after—but choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.

As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.

But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.

"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."

Oh, please.

It’s painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.

After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed ‘proof’ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.

He knew that damn well—it was just another ploy to delay the process further.

As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.

"Oh, so she’s yours when it’s convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. You’ve done nothing but make our lives difficult."

Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoya’s presence descends over you—suffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.

"Maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, things wouldn’t be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawl—as his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.

You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?

"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."

He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. It’s a familiar tactic he would use to get his way—the accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.

"Suit yourself. Just remember, you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll realize you need me again,” his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.

Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haru’s wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she can’t fully understand—but you do.

Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longer—screw the elevator.

With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.

Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.

But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.

“Really, Naoya?”

Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thin—he’s like a growth you can’t get rid of.

You feel Haru’s grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haru’s sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.

“Just go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,” you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. “There was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know you’re just trying to stall our court date,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.

"Stalling? Hardly. You’re insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.

Finally, you reach the stairway—beginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.

"This conversation is over, Naoya,” your voice echoes in the narrow space. “Stay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."

Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.

"For now, y/n. But remember, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. You’re incapable of anything without me."

There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.

Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.

The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bang—hopefully it goes much better at Satoru’s.

Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyes—the tremor in your voice quaking.

“Come on honey, let’s go meet Mr. Gojo.”

Time to get this marriage finalized.

ꨄ︎

You had expectations of what Satoru’s house would be like, but even those couldn’t hold a light to the real thing—it’s a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.

The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.

It’s far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.

Wait…should you have come dressed businesslike?

But you have Haru—was this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.

On top of everything else, you’re already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.

Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.

Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You weren’t going to let Naoya ruin your day—this meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.

As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.

You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casual—a fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.

It’s impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.

“Hm, late again, I see,” Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get married—” he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.

“Well, well, and who is this?”

Haru’s wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushie’s worn, familiar fabric for comfort.

Satoru’s smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.

What should he say? How should he act?

A flicker of fear crosses his mind—what if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?

Oh God…

The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation he’s not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. He’s used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.

But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.

As you notice Haru’s uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.

"It’s okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"

There is an air about you—the gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he can’t quite place.

All he knows it that now he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

"I’m really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope it’s okay. I just didn’t have anyone who could watch her today. But she’ll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."

Satoru’s expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to you—a small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. “Hi there, I’m Satoru. What’s your name?”

Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentatively—

“Haru.”

Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind races—

What do kids like?

What should he say next?

While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.

“Nice to meet you, Haru. Do you like Pokémon?”

Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.

“Yes, Pikachu.”

“Pikachu is pretty cool,” he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. “But you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?”

Haru’s eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.

Satoru’s inner child shines through—eyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.

“Tell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. How’s that sound?”

You feel Haru’s grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.

“Okay.”

There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play out—the foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man you’ve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.

Charming, even

But what you really can’t fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kids’ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.

“You’re a fan of Digimon?” you raise an eyebrow.

Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.

“I used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,” he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.

Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.

Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoru’s confident strides—the movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. It’s a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.

But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofness—subtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.

He keeps surprising you.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Digimon fan,” you remark as you follow behind him.

Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Guilty as charged.”

You can’t help but notice the way he avoids your gaze—is he perhaps being… bashful?

Oh, this is rich.

You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shit—making your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldn’t resist letting this opportunity pass up.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,” you snort.

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.

“Well, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”

“Seriously?” you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “You, with a collection of Digimon cards? That’s something I’d pay to see.”

He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.

“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I’ll dig them out for you one day. But only if you’re nice.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Me, nice to you? That’s a tall order.”

A faint chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.

The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.

Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaits—shelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.

“Yo, Suguru,” he waves flippantly, “this is y/n and her daughter, Haru.”

Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the desk—a calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shake his hand with a subtle nod.

The presence of another stranger causes Haru’s shyness to return as she hides behind your legs again—you kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.

“Haru,” you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, “why don’t you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?”

With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room—spreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.

You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside you—posture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Suguru leans forward, “I’ve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions I’ve had with Satoru. I’ll walk you through the main points.”

Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.

“Firstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.”

Okay, easy—right?

You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.

He carries a casual attitude—one you shouldn’t be surprised with at this point because it’s the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, it’s a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and he’s sitting here as if you’re determining what to eat for lunch.

Yup, nothing’s changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.

“Next, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,” Suguru continues. “There are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.”

You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfully—an indifferent expression plastered across his face.

Is he even listening?

Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.

You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.

Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.

“The financial arrangements are next…Satoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.”

You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?

Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you weren’t expecting this level of financial support. Isn’t that a bit excessive?

“Wait, what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. “A monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?”

Satoru’s chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“We wouldn’t want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?”

His words sound almost considerate, but it’s the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.

“Some might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. You’ll still work beside me, but I can’t give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,” he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, “what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support my wife?”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense… but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, it’s always hard to tell.

Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.

“Moving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.”

Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, “I’ve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. They’ll handle everything.”

You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.

“Huh?”

“Problem, sweetheart?”

“I... I didn’t realize I’d be moving in so… soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.”

He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.

“I’ll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when you’re supposed to be living here.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.”

To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.

To you, this isn’t just a contract; it’s a complete upheaval of your life.

You’re starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.

The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, but you can’t help but wonder…does he pity you? See you as a charity act?

Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,

“It’s important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.”

You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Right, I understand.”

Suguru nods, making a note on the document.

“Good. Now, let’s move on to the responsibilities and obligations. You’re both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the façade of a loving marriage.”

Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."

Tomorrow?

You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.

“Alright…tomorrow.”

Suguru flips to the next page, “In terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.”

You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number can’t be correct, right?

You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.

“Is this…correct?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, it’s correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.”

You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haru’s future, and give you the stability you’ve been desperately seeking.

You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldn’t need him or his money.

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

"And what’s the catch?”

Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."

Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.

“Well, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoru’s reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.”

You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a condition—you knew better than to think he was just being generous.

“So… I’m responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?”

Satoru’s crooked grin widens.

“It means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?”

Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his control—you thought you were escaping Naoya’s grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience; it’s a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.

A part of you can’t blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.

“What if something happens that’s out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?”

Satoru’s eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.

“We’ll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But let’s just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.”

The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.

Suguru interjects, his tone professional.

“This clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoru’s. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.”

You take a deep breath—this was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haru’s future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.

Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoru’s game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.

“Alright,” you say firmly. “I agree to the terms.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.

“Good. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.”

You observe Satoru as he reaches for the pen—he is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.

When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a second—then, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.

Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.

No turning back now.

ꨄ︎

The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.

Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didn’t feel right—so you opted to leave her with Satoru’s nanny.

Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.

Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.

This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gestures—just a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.

But then again, you knew that coming into this—it was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.

It was over as quickly as it began—just like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.

Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.

"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.

Hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Gojo’ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.

“And you look like you’re at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,” you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.

A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.

“Touché. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone you’re head over heels in love with me,” there’s a playful challenge in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“Well, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.

When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.

"Oh? And how did you picture it?” he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, “Let me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"

Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lips—the only response you will give him.

Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.

“Hmm, think I guessed right,” he chuckles as he saunters after you.

“And what if you did?” you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. “Is it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?”

The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the button—the two of you wait in an awkward silence.

The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s just... different from what I’ve ever thought about,” he says while he presses the button to the lobby.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.

“What, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?”

Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.

“Honestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our family’s status.” He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.

The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.

Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.

“…and you never found anyone who fit the bill?”

He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Plenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those ‘suitable matches’ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.”

The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his father’s expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionship—it was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.

As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. It’s enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.

“That sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?”

His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Because you’re different. You didn’t come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. It’s honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.”

A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.

A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“In a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.”

Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.

“I never thought you’d see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.”

“And that’s what makes you different,” he replies softly. “You’re doing this for her, not for yourself. That’s why I agreed to this. Because I believe you’re sincere.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.

The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new light—a glimpse into his inner world.

The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere—how did they even know where to find you both?

Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.

The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomach—you realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.

“Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.

You blink, heat rising to your face as you’re momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.

Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.

“Mr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?”

“Mr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?”

“Who is this woman Mr. Gojo?”

“What is your statement on your father’s passing?”

As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.

It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.

Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.

Satoru’s kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender action—camera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.

“Let’s get out of here,” Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.

He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.

As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.

Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes you—one you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“That was... intense.”

Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.

“Welcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.”

ꨄ︎

The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promised—they packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.

Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweet—as your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.

Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoru’s mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.

Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.

It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.

He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,

"Let me show you to our room."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"

Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."

You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

“You're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.

"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.

Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.

"Here we are."

He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.

"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.

"Wow," you breathe.

It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.

"This is beautiful... and a lot."

Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.

The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.

"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.

Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guard—a striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, it’s almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a ‘business partner’.

Was he always this beautiful?

You can’t help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.

Crap. What are you thinking?

Haru’s giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.

"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."

You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.

It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoru’s room, a constant reminder of his proximity.

"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.

You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"…I suppose I'll manage.”

Satoru laughs softly.

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.

Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.

The room was a child’s dream—decorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.

Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.

It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?

“Wow, look, Mama!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.

A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.

“I wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.

“You've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.

Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?”

His usual confidence is somewhat muted—you wonder, is it you? Haru?

"Yeah,” you nod, “I’m going to put a few of my things away and then we’ll meet you downstairs."

“Right. Take your time. There's no rush."

You can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.

Haru’s laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.

And to you, her laughter solidified it—marrying Satoru, this was the right call.

ꨄ︎

The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustments—it wasn’t without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.

The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.

Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. He’s a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintain—attentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.

Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.

Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.

Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mind—the first public event you would attend together as a married couple.

Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.

You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.

He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.

“What about Haru?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“We’ll leave her out of the spotlight,” Satoru replied gently. “I don’t want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. She’ll stay here with the nanny during the event.”

Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of them—maybe you should just call off the court case?

You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.

Honestly, you don’t need Naoya’s support anymore.

You’ll take care of that after the gala though—right now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.

The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about him—the way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.

As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.

ꨄ︎

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.

Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.

You barely recognize yourself.

The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.

Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like you’re wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.

As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightly—Satoru’s door.

“Y/n you ready?” his voice calls out.

With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoru’s frame leans casually against the entryway.

The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.

He meets you with a stunned silence—eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.

You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this before—the intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.

Does he think it’s too much?

“Wow,” he breathes, voice almost reverent. “You look... stunning.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Seriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... you’re going to be the star of the gala,” a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ready to knock them dead?”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…hopefully I can live up to the part.”

“You will,” offering you his arm, he adds, “Just be yourself, and stay by my side, we’re in this together."

ꨄ︎

The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.

The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.

Strange.

The usually insufferable man seemed different tonight—steadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps it’s the nerves.

His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and you’re surprised yourself how it does not bother you—in fact, it’s actually quite soothing.

Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

The room is filled with the city’s elite—a sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.

But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every move—it’s all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.

Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.

“Remember, just follow my lead.”

Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendees—the warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.

Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You don’t hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.

Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.

Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.

It’s clear that Satoru is in his element—his charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.

As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.

The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate dance—your smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Honestly, your mind was elsewhere—there is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoru’s announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.

When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.

Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.”

His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspire—you marveled at his ability to enthrall people.

Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.

Then, the moment came.

“I will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,” Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.

The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowd—you nearly choked on your champagne in shock.

Ten million?

You couldn’t even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoru’s status is staggering.

A smile tugs at Satoru’s lips—a genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.

“Or should I say, we will be donating—me and my lovely wife.”

Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.

There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowd’s gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.

Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightly—perhaps it’s from the champagne, or perhaps it’s the sheer pressure.

You can’t fuck this up.

With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.

Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.

“Everyone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,” he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.

The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlight’s heat and the intense gazes of attendees.

Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.

When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.

You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where you’re standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The moment Satoru’s speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.

Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.

Your heart is still pounding—public speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.

You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, you’ve always dreaded being the center of attention.

With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the bar—seeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.

Deciding it’s exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.

One glass turned into two—your nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.

Realizing you’ve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin him—but just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. “Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.”

A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.

“Naoya,” you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrow—a cold, cynical stare boring into you.

“I could ask you the same thing. This doesn’t seem like your usual scene. What’s your angle?”

Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.

“I’m sure you heard, I’m here with my husband, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.

“Husband, huh?” his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, “Quite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?”

Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.

“Not a game, Naoya. It’s called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.”

Taking a step closer, he looms over you—his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.

“I don’t buy it. This whole charade… you think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull?”

For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.

What if he exposes you?

What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?

Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoya’s bubble and right beside Satoru.

“There you are, darling. Everything alright?”

His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles him—something feels off.

Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Satoru’s tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, “I’m y/n’s husband, Satoru Gojo.”

A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.

“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly move fast, don’t you, y/n?”

Naoya can see right through you—you fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.

“Well, when you know, you know,” Satoru says with a charming smile, “and we knew.”

Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

“Come on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You don’t belong here.”

Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms you—your heart dropping at the sting of Naoya’s words.

Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoya—the playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.

“Watch your mouth, you don’t get to talk to my wife like that.”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoru’s glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s out of her league here.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“If you think she’s out of her league, then you clearly don’t know her at all. You’re out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.”

“Is that so?” Naoya raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. After all, you’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.”

Panic seizes you as Naoya’s observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.

Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoru’s neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.

“Satoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but we’re stronger together, and we have a connection that you can’t comprehend.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolve—his breath mingling with yours.

Feeling Naoya’s probing gaze, you know he won’t be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.

For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.

It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.

Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for you—without thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.

You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervor—his other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

Your fingers thread through Satoru’s hair and the world around you seems to fade away—the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoru’s body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the gala’s chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.

It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.

When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoru’s half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.

Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoya—his smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.

“As you can see, we’re very happy together,” you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoru’s.

"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.

A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoru’s touch is still warm on your skin—you can still taste him on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.

The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the opposite—your face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."

Satoru studies you momentarily—knowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isn’t the time to pry.

He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.

“Well, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,” he murmurs.

For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

“I didn’t mind,” he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,” his voice low and husky.

Fuck.

You blink—Naoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.

The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voice—it makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. “But next time, let’s save the tongue for when we’re really alone, hm?”

What is he saying?

Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?

The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze—the crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.

Satoru’s eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.

As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoru’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.

"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"

You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.

“Right,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Just a show.”

But deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.

ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon 🤭 my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write 🥰 lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading 🫶🏻 → on to the next chapter ꨄ

taglist :

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@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

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[no-144444]

FIC-TOBER

Hey everyone! I've decided to participate in the regualr kink-tober stuff (in my own way) :)

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I have a fic fr every day, I'll try and get them out at roughly the smae time but with work and school I'm a little busy so please be mindful of that and also enjoy! Some of these are requests, so thank you to the people that requested and please enjoy!

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October 1st: Making moves  Enemies to lovers -> Lando Norris x publicist  reader  Why did your client have to be such a pain in the ass? 

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October 2nd: The grid: Meet-cutes! 

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October 3rd: Brother’s teammate Brother’s teammate -> Jack Doohan x Gasly reader  It’s not your fault his new teammate is hot (smau)

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October 4th: Married man Private, but not secret -> Lewis Hamilton  Married? Maybe. But why does everyone else need to know? 

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October 5th: (smut): misguided mishaps One bed trope -> Lando Norris x Fewtrell reader  One bed… what could go wrong? 

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October 6th: Love and lies Fake relationship -> Alex Albon x reader “We don’t love each other, right?”

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October 7th: mi señora Everyone else ships you -> Franco Colapinto x Williams reader  “We’ve barely ever spoken!” “He’s in love with you!” 

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October 8th: Presenting y/n y/l/n! Our fav commentator Y/n Y/l/n! Tweets about our favourite F1 commentator!

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October 9th: Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide! Things heating up between you and Judgy McJudgy pants...

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October 10th: Losing Battle Marriage of convenience -> Lance Stroll “Children?” “No way.”

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October 11th: Temptations (semi-smut 18+) Skinny dipping-> Max Verstappen god forbid a girl has hobbies tmz. 

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October 11th: Accidental injury Injury causer-> Logan Sargeant x engineer! reader “Watch where you’re going please?!” 

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October 12th: a story for a dinner party (smut 18+) Trapped in an elevator -> Liam Lawson x driver! reader “Don’t move!” “I’m not moving!”

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October 13th: Persistent Pestering Sworn off relationships and ‘I’m in love with you’ -> Charles LeClerc  Ferrari drivers are persistent. You’re not looking for love. Too bad he is. 

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October 14th:  The grid: wedding shenanigans! ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

October 15th: smile, even though it’s breaking. Sunshine vs. Grumpy -> Daniel Riccarrdo x RB mechanic! reader “Do you even stop smiling?” “Only when you’re not around.”

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October 16th: Listening ears on Matchmaking gone wrong -> Zhou Guanyo x Bottas reader  How come when you try to set Zhou up, it always ends badly? (smau)

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October 17th: Admin looking for love! Secret pining -> Carlos Sainz x williams admin! reader  Why did Alex Albon feel the need to post you on his story as a ‘lonely woman looking for love’? And why did Carlos Sainz dm you after it? 

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October 18th: Creepy guy who isn't all that creepy Coffee mix up -> Ollie Bearman  Why does your cappuccino taste like shit? And why are you being followed by a random 6 foot man? 

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October 19th: Opposites attract, right? Forgetful-> George Russell  “Where’s my-” “Babe, stop leaving things lying around!” 

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October 20th: Happy accident! Accidentally married -> Max Verstappen  Good night, right? 

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October 21st: Stoic much? Secret baby -> Oscar Piastri  “You have a wife?” “You have a kid?!” 

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October 22nd: The grid: Time for a hot lap! 

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October 23rd: All grown up! Childhood crush -> Arthur Leclerc  “I had a crush on you as a kid.” “Same.” “What?!”

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October 24th: Breaking up (not making up) The one that got away -> Kimi Antonelli  “So we’re done?” “yeah.”

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October 25th: Wallflowers like flowers too Friends to lovers -> Oscar Piastri  “I got you some flowers.” “Why?” “Because they’re pretty, like you.”

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October 26th: Thoughtless love Best friends to lovers -> Paul Aron Being with him is just easy.

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October 27th:Lovers in denial Won't admit it-> Logan Sargeant  “I don’t like her!” “Exactly, you love her!” 

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October 28th: Was it casual? Scared to commit -> Lando Norris  Aren't we just casual?

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October 29th: The Grid: Late for a date!

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October 30th:  The Grid: confesses! 

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October 31st: Chancer Halloween party -> Oscar Piastri Can he figure out who you are at the masquerade ball before you leave forever?

[wonupatootie]

김민규 // Kim Mingyu Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part II

이 길을 다시 함께 걸을 수 있다면 두 손 꼭 잡아 온기를 주��� 싶어~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

“Again and Again” by @lovelyhan

Fem!reader || Idol au, exes, fake dating, angst, fluff, smut || W.C: 15.7k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Way of the House Husband” by @wonustars

Fem!reader || Fake marriage, fluff, angst, smut || W.C: 19k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Fools in Love” by @bluehoodiewoozi

Fem!reader || Uni au, strangers to lovers, fluff || W.C: 10.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“This is How We Fall” by @bitterie-sweetie

Strangers to lovers, fake dating, fluff, light angst || W.C: 18.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･You should know better than to make a deal with a stranger, but the need for a date to Minghao’s party has you desperate. It can’t be too bad though; all you have to do is show Mingyu what you saw in your reading, and he would be your date for one night. Simple enough, right?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Very First Night” by @fxstpace

Fem!reader || Roommates au, exes to lovers, romance, angst, smut || W.C: 19.7k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Falling Flower” by @thedensworld

Fem!reader || CEO x Secretary, suggestive, fluff, humour, angst, heavy plot || W.C: 10k+ (not specified)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.

⤷“Flower Bloomed” (Part 2 of Falling Flowers series)

Fem!reader || Marriage au, angst, romance, heavy plot || W.C: 10k+ (not specified)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･it's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“New Rules” by @leejihoonownsmyheart

Gn!reader || College au, fake dating, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut || W.C: 26k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Kim Mingyu is the star basketball player of your schools' team, and one of the most popular boys in your entire University. You’re just a college student with the best boyfriend in the world.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Covert Desires” by @etherealyoungk

Fem!reader || Spy au, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, angst, fluff, suggestive || W.C: 19.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ the mission is simple - infiltrate a high-stakes auction that the top leaders, businessmen, women, and politicians of the world attend every year and steal one of the most highly guarded and hidden-away paintings from the target’s collection. the only downside, you had to work with kim mingyu, whom you absolutely hated. and to make it even worse, you had to pretend to be his wife for this mission to work.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Fix You” by @smileysuh

Afab!reader || Sci-fi au, AI!mingyu, smut || W.C: 15.5k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Creep” by @smileysuh

Afab!reader || Halloween au, ghost!mingyu, smut || W.C: 9.1k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･“If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the onlyshocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Love Me Out Loud” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || Established relationship, fluff, angst, crack || W.C: 14.6k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Kim Mingyu was your first, but to him, he was for sure you were his endgame. One year out from university, no one expected you to be dating the former campus heartthrob. It's why you had to hide it from everyone – Mingyu's 14.5K Instagram followers, at least. However, the return of your childhood best friend Kim Taehyung to Seoul for a wedding, forces Mingyu to rethink the secrecy of your whole relationship. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Hydrangeas” by @kwallanghae

Gn!reader || Uni au, Hanahaki au, heavy angst, fluff, childhood friends || W.C: 9.3k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･hydrangeas were your favourite flower, until you started choking on them. but they reminded you of him, and he was enough to bear it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Reckless Driver” by @hengqarae

Afab!reader || Street racer au, smut, romance, angst || W.C: 10k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you hate racing and you don't date racers. kim mingyu loves racing, and he finds out that he loves you, too, from the moment that he first lays eyes on you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“So High School” by @cherriegyuu

[Series] || Fem!reader || College au, smut, fluff, angst, comedy || Parts: 2(as of now) || Current W.C: 16.6k || Status: Ongoing

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day eight: Knife play!

cw: knife play, non con/dub con, degrading names e.g whore, slut, violent language, fingering, public sex, sex in the dark, Simons a little crazy, licking his fingers clean, knife to the throat, dominant Simon, masked Simon, Simon who thinks he owns you, finger riding, crying

Simon hated you. You left him, you nasty- selfish disgusting little slut. How dare you leave his life, vanish after years of saving his back and him protecting yours. Years of being together daily, training- working- bickering; pretty much glued at the hip.

If one thing for sure- Simon hated talking to people, he only made the effort to get somewhat close to you from the Captain’s orders but little did he know how badly he’d fall for you. Fucking fall for you. The way you presented yourself, body wracking with elegance and normality. The dream girl he never knew existed, the girl that he was going to marry. You were his- his yours: every moment with you he felt alive, burning with your foreign endearment, a care he never knew he would be granted with. A love full of delicacy and sugar he’d be a fool to balk.

So why on gods green earth did you fucking abandon him? Why did you wish your goodbyes, thank your teammates and set off for a new life. A different career branch, new set of friends; perhaps a new lover. It was brutal, you were heartless. He wanted to break your fucking spine. Tracking you down and following you into some shitty overpriced Halloween pop up event happening near you, a haunted house in which your new friends and new boss were accompanying you. A murderous intent trailing through his body before it sunk deep in the masked, 6'ft Lieutenant’s stomach at the sight of your boss’s arm around you. He’d cut his fingers off and force him to choke on them for touching what isn’t his.

Managing to sneak past the security and walking into the haunted house- well mansion- he hid himself in a corner on the second floor. The room was wide and decorated like the interior of a barn. Haystacks and dark oak panels covering the red walls and barricaded windows. A creaky wooden floor and barley any light aside from the odd lantern, casting a warm- sinister glow.

It was probably a hint to the actor in the next room- probably some psycho farmer or a chainsaw wielding scarecrow stood ready to chase after you. Simon didn’t feel fear when it came to the actors around this place, he’d like to see a man smothered in fake blood and a zombie costume out at war, on enemy territory with nothing but a pistol, fighting and protecting for not just his life but for the life of your teammates- civilians. That was true terror you had to make people feel and true terror you felt in yourself.

He heard footsteps approaching and laughter falling people, your voice shining through them and into his ears like a song- a song that he had muted and silenced for a moment. His cock hardening as he grabbed the fake knife hidden on hay beside him, running at your new little group with his prop knife, internally rolling his eyes as they all screamed and ran for the next door. All but one.

Your eyes lingered on his mask, surely it wasn’t him- why would he be here? An actor in a silly little Halloween house doesn’t necessarily scream Simon. His hand threw the fake knife on the floor, the plastic rattling against the wood as he walked forward, grabbing you by the neck and shoving you against the wall. Not giving you any time to analyse the situation you’d entered.

“Why the fuck did you leave me?” He growled in your ear, knee coming between your legs and pushing your thighs apart. The fabric of his jeans rubbing your clothed pussy harshly, mouth opened but no words coming out. What words would come out? His hand slipped into his back pocket, pulling out a switchblade and placing the metal below your chin. What the actual fuck? You were petrified.

A pleased hum came from the chapped lips of the man, his eyes squinting slightly from a smile beneath his mask, creasing his black eye makeup and staring through your pupils- into your soul: your fear. You were pathetic, couldn't even explain yourself to him, he could laugh.

“Simon- please.” You pleaded, your voice cracking with fear as it seeped through your thick strong interior, igniting a manic chuckle from his lips. Did you think he was going to kill you? His little backstabbing whore he’d tracked down, slowly bleeding out as he’d leave you against the wall. His blade deep in the side of your throat. No no no, Simon didn’t want to hurt you- he wanted to toy with you.

“Love, I'm not going to kill you- O’d you think I am?” The knife not moving an inch against your pretty flesh, a contrast between the softness of your skin and the sharpness of the blade. Applying the perfect amount of pressure to poke but not cut. An ounce of relief washed over you at that comment, the reassurance palpable but the dread sickening; if he wasn’t going to kill you what did he want from you?

He watched as his body trembled beneath him; anxiety overtaking your blood and your veins, looking away and down because if you stayed looking up at him you were going to cry. A weak weak little girl compared to him. You could act strong, you could push him away and run as fast as you could but there would be no use, he’d catch you somehow, somewhere. He’d fuck with you more, all you could do was obey him and his demands now unless you wanted a life of watching over your shoulder constantly.

“Strip.” And your hands slipped into the waist band of your bottoms, tugging them down and stepping out of them, hesitating would only make him more pissed off. Your shaky hand grabbing the bottom of your shirt too, tugging that over your head leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, your bra and wet panties. He looked down your body a whistle at the end of this tongue but he held back, looking up at you again.

“Strip- you want me to get fucking mad?” And hesitantly you took off your panties, unhooking you bra, tears pouring from your eyes as you hugged yourself, not only embarrassed but ashamed, ashamed with what your letting happen and horrified that you kind of like it. His body came in closer again, heating you up as he dragged the tip of the blade down your body. Between your tits, over your tummy and against your cunt, stuffing two fingers inside your hole greedily, not even focused on you anymore.

He kept a steady pace, thrusting his fingers inside over and over again, curving them slightly so it feels good for you but not giving you any opportunity to come or get close. Going at his pace, touching you how he wanted to at whatever speed he likes. His ears perked up at the little whines you let out, tiny confirmation that you weren’t all scared and were enjoying it- the juices running down your thigh gave him that understanding too. What a dirty bitch, getting fingered against the wall of a horror house, a knife pressed against her but it only increasing her arousal: you were mad. He was fucking taken aback.

“Yeah? You sad little whore. Missing Simon so much the minute he gets you against the wall you give in. Where was my strong girl from a few moments ago? Where did she go, huh, baby?” Mockery. Your body felt red- it felt hot. Anger taking over the fear and fuelling you. You threw your body back down on his fingers, practically riding his hand for him. Moaning in his ear, showing him that you were still there, still strong. Still holding on and that despite his best efforts of trying to scare you- fucking with you- hurting you. It didn’t work because you enjoyed the pain, you lived off of the pain he provided you.

After a few more thrusts of his fingers you came over his hand, eyes rolling shut and all tears from before resurfacing and pouring from your eyes. Legs such a trembling mess he dragged you towards the hay, lifting and placing you on top so you could breathe and come down from you high. He watched you pant, eyes shut as your tits bounced from each breath. His eyes flickered to his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, your taste exploding on his tongue.

“Next time you misbehave and leave me I won’t be so generous. I’ll get your paperwork done and you’ll be back with us in no time.” You nodded unsure on what else to do. Simon had control over you now; Simon had the power and all you could do is submit. There was no backing down now, you were tied to his hip. And something deep inside you, something sick and deluded was unsure. Something in you, so fucked up you couldn’t help but wonder if you minded, if you cared that you were living a life run by Simon.

Looking up to see him look down at you; a raging, violent look in his eye but behind it there was softness. Protection and security, you were Simon’s and he was going to keep you safe in the long run. And maybe that wasn’t all bad. So what if he’s a little crazy, it just shows how much he cares.

[inktopuck]

miss honey | jack hughes social media au (pt.3)

pt.2

jackhughes

Liked by jesperbratt, nicohischier and others

jackhughes speaking with bar down about this season and what you can expect from us!

colecaufield we're sweeping y'all, get ready!

l_hughes06 in your dreams little man

_quinnhughes oh wow very grown man of you jackie, they're giving you responsibilities woww

_alexturcotte question: will it all be "uh" and "ahh" ? i don't want to get bored while on the treadmill

curtislazar95 i should've been the one invited to do this, i've always been told i've got a good face for the radio!

l_hughes06 it'll be on digital platforms, grandpa

curtislazar95 rusty! buddy! nobody asked you

yournamelastname great just what we needed another man with access to a microphone

jackhughes you didn't mind me having a microphone while i saved your ass from making a fool of yourself at karaoke

yournamelastname that was the worst rendition of pink pony club i've ever heard though

yournamelastname

Liked by _quinnhughes, elblue06 and others

yournamelastname got to sit up front // JACKass relegated me to the back after half an hour #homebound

jackhughes yeah and if you complain about it again i'm tying you to the roof the rest of the drive

trevorzegras bro are you commenting while driving???? don't put miss honey in danger like that

jackhughes we're at a rest stop, dumbass

yournamelastname miss honey??

trevorzegras yeah like the teacher in matilda 😇 the cute, nice one, i mean

yournamelastname that's so sweet trev 😭

jackhughes oh it's trev now is it

l_hughes06 to be fair i really needed to stretch my legs so the trade was merciful

yournamelastname it's not my fault you're built like a giraffe my dude (love you just the same, pookums)

elblue06 if i told you jack and y/n used to be the sweetest to each other would you believe me

nicohischier no

colecaufield no

_alexturcotte no

trevorzegras no

l_hughes06 my memory doesn't go that far back, so no

_quinnhughes i was there and even i don't believe it

elblue06🔒

Liked by colecaufield, _quinnhughes and others

elblue06 i told you these babies were once on amicable terms!

l_hughes06 this looks fake

_quinnhughes mom they're literally biting each other's heads off over dinner i want to jump into the lake and not come out

bradytkachuk i've seen this before mrs hughes they'll end up married

yournamelastname delete immediately

colecaufield i love friends to enemies to lovers

jackhughes WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

colecaufield that's a book trope you illiterate ape

jackhughes i literally read 50 books a year

colecaufield none that matter though

yournamelastname that's not me!!

jackhughes don't lie

l_hughes06

Liked by yournamelastname, jackhughes and others

l_hughes06 meet our new roommate! ((bear, not Y/N))

jackhughes thank god

yournamelastname you WISH i was your roommate

jackhughes i would move out

yournamelastname great! i could live with luke and bear!

trevorzegras oh miss honey you might be cuter than the puppy

jackhughes would you stop it

yournamelastname no he can go on

colecaufield that's.... 👀👀👀👀

jackhughes do you have a death wish z

yournamelastname i'm not THAT bad

jackhughes not what i meant

colecaufield 👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️

pt. 4

[bunny-1111]

Slytherin boys and their Romantic Tropes

Draco -

Second chance: dated late 3rd year, too young, too much drama lead to breaking up only to rekindle in 5th year when he got drunk at a party and begged for you back, you were equally as drunk and wanted the same thing, it was even better than you knew each other in third year.

Mattheo -

Enemies to lovers: With Teo's competitive nature and aggression, getting on his nerves is easy. You exceeded his expectations of pissing him off daily; when one day he pushes you too far in a routine argument, he feels terrible and offers you a hug, which leads to a kiss, which leads to a passionate relationship.

Tom -

Forbidden love: Tom doesn't do relationships, especially with someone like you, younger than him, possibly even in a different house; even if you are a Slytherin, he doesn't see anyone as his equal. Your parents warn you to stay away from him. His own thoughts tell him to stay away from you, though you both find a way back to each other

Theo -

Friends to lovers: Good old childhood best friends, your parents even joke about the two of you getting married one day; as you grew up together, you realised that you would hold hugs for a while longer than you used to; best friends always sleep in each dorms, right? It's totally normal to get butterflies when you are around each other as well... right?. Theo finally kissed you properly while you were on a walk once, casually, and that's where it started

Enzo -

Fake dating: To get each other's exes jealous, you didn't mean to fall in love for real when the hoax was up, and you stopped the charade. It set in that you missed the play pretend, leading you to knock on his door in the middle of the night. He was waiting up close to the door, hoping you would show up. Nothing was fake after that

Blaise -

Secret billionaire: your boyfriend was so good to you, but before you started dating, you found yourself waking up to lavish gifts outside your bedroom door, you found hundreds of notes of cash laying flat in between pages of your books, you could mention to your friends something caught your eye at Hogsmeade, it was delivered to you by the days end, you had no idea how or by who. It frustrated you so much that one day you stormed to Hogsmeade yourself and demanded the storeowner tell you who was behind the purchases. Who looked at you in disbelief, 'your boyfriend?' they questioned 'I don't have a fucking boyfriend, so tell me, who's doing this' you demanded, 'Mr Zabini' they whispered back. You let out a gasp, storming back to school to confront him. He just kissed you and has taken care of you ever since

[marichive]

100 INDULGENT TROPES

A collection of one hundred tropes of varying nature. Spiritual successor to my previous An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme. Some of these pair well together and can easily be sent in various combinations. Some are also highly suggestive in nature. Engage appropriately.

one muse steps protectively in front of the other

one muse tends to the other’s injury

one muse is not acting like themselves and the other has to snap them out of it

one muse kisses the other during an argument

one muse pins the other to a wall

one muse kisses the other on their hand or wrist

one muse kisses the other on their neck or shoulder

one muse helps the other put on a necklace or tie

our muses aren’t supposed to be together but keep meeting anyway (on purpose or by accident)

our muses have a secret relationship

one muse takes a blow meant for the the other

one muse fights away enemies attacking the the other

one muse asks the other for their favor / a token before battle or a tourney

our muses share a night together believing it might be their last

our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal

our muses willingly marry for political reasons

our muses get married for love

our muses get married in a spur-of-the-moment decision

one muse has taken the other captive

our muses are in love but one thinks they aren’t good enough for the other

our muses are forced to ally for a common goal

our muses are enemies or former enemies but have started to fall for each other

our muses claim to hate each other but there is palpable tension between the two

our muses are trying to manipulate each other

one muse is trying to manipulate the other

our muses have feelings for each other but have conflicting loyalties

our muses are friends but have started to fall for each other

our muses are childhood friends that have been slowly falling for each other over the years

one muse has been in love with the other for a long time but is afraid their feelings are not reciprocated

one muse is in love with the other but they are in a relationship with or engaged to another person

our muses engage in a courtly romance

one muse is a knight in service to the the other’s family

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover

one muse traces the other’s scars

one muse kisses the other in a moment of heightened emotion

one muse confides in the other in a vulnerable moment

our muses are in love but circumstances prevent them from being together

our muses are exes who discover lingering feelings after reuniting

one muse confesses love to another after that person is injured

one muse confesses love to another because they believe they may die soon

our muses must share a bed

one muse lifts the other’s chin to look them in the eye

one muse places a hand at the back of the other’s neck to pull them extremely close

our muses have been hooking up, no strings attached

our muses have been hooking up, but one or both has developed deeper feelings

our muses are exes that hook up against their better judgement

one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again

one muse betrays their long held loyalties in order to save the other’s life from their own allies

our muses fake a relationship but have no actual interest in each other

our muses fake a relationship but start to genuinely fall for each other

one muse is known for their hard exterior and softens only in the other’s presence

one muse is the other’s weakness, something an enemy is trying to exploit

our muses are stuck somewhere together and must occupy their time

one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization

one muse is scared to act on feelings for the other due to poor experiences with love in the past

one muse is oblivious to the other’s feelings for them

one muse acts oblivious to the other’s feelings for them but really they are aware

one muse has unrequited feelings for the other

our muses are co-workers engaging in a hidden romance

one muse reveals one of their darkest secrets to the other

one muse comforts the other during an emotional breakdown

one muse calms the other from an intense rage

one muse’s family forbids them from seeing the other

our muses are in love but their friends / family do not support their relationship

one muse seeks redemption for past actions and comes to the other to atone

our muses regularly exchange letters

our muses move in together

our muses adopt a pet together

our muses have a child together

our muses adopt a child together

one muse discovers they are pregnant by accident

our muses have been set up by mutual friends

our muses have been set up by a matchmaker

our muses are in love with each other but are in denial

one muse is the other’s bodyguard / protector

one muse is royalty while the other is a commoner / rogue / societal outcast

one muse kisses the other for a bet

one muse relentlessly flirts with the other

our muses kiss for the first time ever

one muse wins a date with the other at an event

our muses dance together for the first time

one muse brushes their fingers through the other’s hair

one muse drunkenly confesses something to the other

our muses drunkenly hook up and wake up next to each other

our muses are roommates

our muses are partners in crime

one muse is a supernatural creature who falls for the other, who is a mortal

our muses are supernatural creatures from opposite clans or species that are historically hostile to each other

one muses is under a spell / in the middle of a monstrous transformation but somehow recognizes the other and refrains from harming them

our muses cuddle for warmth

our muses run away together

one muse wears piece of clothing or jewelry that belongs to the other

our muses bathe together

our muses cook together

our muses cuddle in bed

one muse serenades the other

one muse holds a weapon to the other as a threat

one muse physically lifts the other up

one muse protectively wraps an arm around the other

meet cute !

[rms-expensive-girl]

JUNGKOOK LIBRARY

PARENTS AU

Inevitable by @ahundredtimesover

CHEATING AU/INFIDELITY AU

I surrender by @krreader

Stoic by @blue-jade

Not the only one by @mono-moonchilds 

Golden by @kingsuckjin

Bow to you by @flowerwrites06

CEO AU

Untitled by @to-star-lake

ENEMIES TO?????

The wedding planners by @gukyi

OREOs... and Electroshock Couples Therapy by @ladyartemesia

Dextrocardia by @jeonstudios

Clash by @matchagator

FRIENDS TO????

Pen pals by @gukyi

Liability by @alexlwrites

Falling skies by @fortunexkookie

No such thing by @ganggangscenarios

ZOMBIE/ALIEN AU

Wanted by @jincherie

Flesh and blood by @kinktae

FRATBOY/FUCKBOY AU

Night after night by @brown-bi-beautiful

Bitchin by @kinktae

After midnight by @gyukult

New rules by @tayegi

TIME TRAVEL? FUTURE? ALT REALITY

Sweet Apple Biscuit by @rosaetae

BROTHERS BEST FRIEND

My love is here by @solemnreads

FAKE DATING AU

To All The Men I’ve Fucked Before by @hisunshiine

The millionaire and his lover by @gukyi

The proposal by @hansolmates

Blush by @jhsbrat

Here comes the bride, all dressed in pride by @hansolmates

MAFIA/GANG AU

Neon lights by @sunnebeam

Cruel intentions by @explicit-tae

Trigger Happy by @cosmostae

MARRIED/ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

Bloody hell by @personasintro

This love by @daegustae

You're leaving me

EXES TO???

Way back home by @solemnreads (Parents AU)

Guilty Pleasures by @kookslastbutton

DEMON/ANGEL/DEVIL

Deal by @jeonstudios

SPIDERKOOK

Entangled by @caelesjjk

Please Don't Go by @httpjungkookcom

Tangled Webs by @ughseoks-main

Swinging by a fine line by @hongcherry

Devoted to trouble by @jeonsweetpea

ROYALTY

Primrose by @mingshits

One year, my love by @hayjeon

Silver Blades by @jooniyah

Dynasty by @jimlingss

August by @cutechim

Duty before love @blue-jade

SUPERHERO/SUPERVILLAIN

Red and Gold by @thedefinitionofbts

Banter by @littlemisskookie

Bicker by @littlemisskookie

THREESOME

In the dark by @jksangelic

Floored by @lavienjin

NEIGHBOURS

The underwear thief by @gukyi

????

Tethered by @13lov

Polarity by @darkestcorners

Where Do Broken Hearts Go by @back2bluesidex 

[cecilysobsessions]

PURPLE HYACINTH (m.) | zuko

↬ word count: 12k

↬ fem!reader, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, “where is my wife?” line, zuko falls first and falls harder, reader & zuko are adults, some parts are from zuko’s pov

↬ summary: being the daughter of a powerful governor in the fire nation, you are married off to the new fire lord zuko. to the public, the two of you are madly in love. behind closed doors, you and zuko can’t stand each other. but you can fuck each other

↬ genre: fluff / smut smut smutty smut smut

↬ warnings: reader & zuko hate each other in the beginning, reader gets poisoned, assassination attempt, zuko likes being choked, oral sex (m.receiving & f.receiving), zuko is a slut in the bedroom, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, swearing, typos

↬ a/n: waiting on season 3 live action zuko glow up 🤞

m.list

•••

“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.

“What?”

“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.

“I hate you.”

“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.

•••

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. Was Zuko always this loud of a chewer? Seriously, in this entire large dining room, where he is sitting several feet away from you across the table, you can still hear him chewing on his stupid steak. Zuko was a loud chewer, a lousy cook, and an even lousier husband. 

It has been nearly a year since the two of you wed in an arranged marriage and you’ve hated every second of it since those stupid wedding bells went off. Your father was a governor in the Fire Nation, and often helped out Zuko with his royal duties. Him and Zuko’s uncle Iroh were good friends, and when it came time for Zuko to find a wife, you just so happen to be at the right age of marrying and available. Although you had fought and protested the marriage, once your father made a decision, he would never go back on it. Even if the decision was to marry off his daughter to the new Fire Lord.

You hated everything about being royalty. From the fancy parties and charities to all the socializing you were required to engage in with old conservative firebending weirdos, to the stupid sham wedding and fake kisses with Zuko. Sure, it was nice living in the palace and having people cook for you and dress you up in pretty clothes, but you hated everything else. You hated socializing and partying, you hated being the Fire Lord’s wife, and you hated all the dumb royal duties you were required to do. It would be a lot easier to do all these things if you actually liked Zuko, but everything about him irked you.

He may have found himself during his teenage years, but he was still easily angered and hard headed. Not to mention he was still moping around and crying about his ex, Mai. She had already moved on and found someone new, but you knew Zuko was still upset he had messed up their relationship. Even though every time you confronted him about it he denied it, you were so sure he was still hurting from it and thinking about it. The blank stares and passing looks he gave to her with a softness in his eyes he had never given you made it so obvious he was lying. And even though you didn’t harbor any sort of romantic feelings for him, it still hurt that he was looking at Mai like that and thinking of her.

From the start of his reign, Zuko wanted Mai to be his wife, and not you, for very obvious reasons. It helped that he liked her and had already had history with her, so when you showed up and people were telling him that he was marrying you and not Mai, he had blamed it on you. He knew it would be better for his duty to put his feelings aside and marry you out of convenience, but he hated the idea of marrying someone he didn’t love. Being with someone he didn’t love.

“Zuko,” you started, trying hard to keep yourself from slamming your silverware on the dining table. “Will you please stop chewing so loudly?” you ask politely.

“I’m not chewing loudly.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You can’t even hear me! You’re sitting so far away from me!” his voice echoed through the large room.

“Exactly. I’m sitting so far away from you, but I can still fucking hear you.” you emphasized, rolling your eyes.

“Well, if it bothers you that much, feel free to eat somewhere else.”

You could practically feel your blood pressure rising. “Oh please, you think I haven’t tried doing that before? Your stupid advisors won’t let me eat anywhere else because we’re married, so we should be eating together.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“Maybe stop chewing so damn loudly and I won't complain.” you sigh, angrily blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face. You were beginning to feel heated and upset. All you wanted to do was eat your dinner in peace and go back to your bedroom, but his stupid loud chewing and stupid stubbornness just had to get in the way.

A familiar silence entered the room and you took in another breath, deciding to try and quickly finish your food so that you could just leave. There was no point in trying to fight with Zuko; you wouldn’t get what you want anyway.

“Do you ever stop sighing?” Zuko asked, and you felt something snap inside of you. You stood up abruptly, the steak knife you were using to cut your food flying towards his face. You had thrown the knife at him in anger, and hoped that it would hit him. Unfortunately, his fast reaction helped him and he moved to the side, swiftly avoiding your fast knife.

“What a shame,” you pushed out your chair and it squeaked against the polished floors. “I could’ve given you another scar on your stupid face.” you began making your way towards the door.

“Maybe if you had better aim you could’ve,” he replied, calmly going back to munching on his food as your eye twitched in annoyance.

•••

You couldn’t sleep. You had spent the last half hour tossing and turning and you still couldn’t fall asleep. Irritated, you decided that you were going to take a walk around the palace gardens to help calm you. In the time you’ve spent at the palace gardens so far, you began to make an effort to learn more about the plants and flowers and their meanings. You began to find it interesting the many messages you could send to someone through flowers, and hoped that someday you’d get a meaningful message through flowers from someone. 

You had thrown a robe over your light and sheer nightgown, and headed to the gardens. Since coming to the place, the gardens have been the only place of peace for you. This was the only space that didn’t have guards wandering around its perimeter 24/7 so that you could have a little privacy. You breathed in the crisp midnight air as you opened the gate at the entrance. You had been walking around and smelling the flowers when you heard a faint voice. 

Zuko. 

“Please,” you heard him plead to someone, and you hid behind a small bush nearby in hopes to hear more of the conversation. If there was one thing you were going to do, it was snoop. The palace had so much drama going on between the staff and royal members of the family, it was impossible to keep your nose out of it.

“Don’t leave,” he continued and you knew exactly who he was talking to. Mai.

You had never heard Zuko speak so softly and gently to someone it was almost as if it was out of character for him. Or maybe he just always spoke to you with such hatred and annoyance.

“No,” you heard her reply. “Is this seriously what you called me out here for? Get a life, Zuko. I’m leaving.”

Wait, that was it? That was everything she was going to say to him? You quietly chuckled to yourself; Mai sounded so over it and annoyed you were almost embarrassed for Zuko. When you saw her leave the gardens, you noticed Zuko sit on a nearby bench. Smiling to yourself, you took the opportunity to poke fun at him and make him feel bad. Who cares if it’s mean? It made you happy, and that’s all that matters really.

“What a pathetic loser,” you stepped out from your hiding bush and he turned to face you, his face furrowed in anger and annoyance. 

“What are you doing here?! Did you overhear all that?!” his voice was back to his normal angry tone.

“Not all of it, just the end.” you sat down next to him. “What, were you begging for her to come back to you? Begging for her to love you again? Oh you poor thing, maybe if you weren’t such a horrible boyfriend, she wouldn’t have left you.” you teased arrogantly, looking up to watch the moon.

“You don’t know anything about love.” he grumbled. “You threw a knife at me during dinner. And that’s not what I was doing. I wasn’t asking her to come back to me.”

“Uh huh. I wouldn’t have thrown a knife at you if I loved you. I did it because you deserve it. And anyway, what would people think if they saw you and her together?”

“Nobody saw.”

“Oh, but I did.”

“You’re a nobody.”

“I’m a nobody?” you laughed sarcastically. “As far as everyone knows, I’m the Fire Lord’s wife. What would people think of you if word got out that you were meeting your ex-lover in the middle of the night even though your first year marriage anniversary is coming up? Imagine what people would think and say about you…” you trailed off, you were sure he got the message. 

You weren’t warning him of his careless actions because you cared about him, but because you cared about yourself and yourself only. If this did come out and people would start gossiping, the people would start pitying you and feeling bad. You already didn’t like that you were only known as the Fire Lord’s wife, so you’d feel even more annoyed if you were known as the Fire Lord’s poor wife who got cheated on.

He was quiet, which meant he knew you were right. Although you and Zuko never got along, he knew when to admit defeat. And he did so with silence. After taking a moment to think to himself, he finally broke the silence.

“Why are you even here anyways? Stalker much?” he eyed your pajamas. “And you’re out here in your nightgown? Go back inside!”

“What? I’m wearing a robe, you can’t even see anything!”

“You idiot, if someone sees us, they might think we’re fucking in the gardens.”

“HA! Please, I’d rather jump off a cliff than fuck you. And if you’re so aware that anybody can see us, you should’ve taken that into consideration before you brought your ex here. Dumbass.” you stood up, quickly turning away from him and walking away before he could say anything.

Zuko’s eyes followed you as he watched you step away, his eyes dropping down to the slight sway of your hips as you walked. “Pfft,” he said to himself as he rolled his eyes. “She walks so arrogantly.” he whispered before forcing his eyes to look somewhere else.

•••

It was that time of the year again. A stupid Fire Nation festival called Sparring Day, or whatever. Essentially, it was just a festival where the best firebenders of the nation put on a show and play with fire and pretend to fight each other for charity. The proceeds for the tickets went to charity and although that was the only part you liked about it, you dreaded going. Sure, this was the first time you were attending as a member of the royal family, but you still hated when your parents dragged you to the festival every previous year. Aside from the charity part (the only good part), it was mostly just a bunch of old lame shirtless dudes throwing fire at each other.

This year though, was different. It was Zuko’s first year where he participated in the festival himself. You thought the festival was supposed to be for the best of the best, so why the hell was Zuko going to be in it? Sure, the original benders of Fire, the dragons, passed down the way of firebending to him and Aang, but that didn’t mean he was good, or whatever. He still sucked ass, in your opinion. Maybe you’re not one to be saying this since you’re not a bender, but you were Zuko’s number one hater.

You were sitting on the stands in the audience with the Avatar and his friends, frantically fanning yourself. The sun was practically cooking everyone alive, but they still went on with the stupid festival.

“LOOK!” Sokka exclaimed excitedly, frantically pointing at the stage below. “They’re setting up dummies for Zuko to burn!”

“I hope he misses.” you roll your eyes, fanning yourself as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. 

“Aww, don’t say that! That would hurt his honor.” Toph jokes, earning a laugh from everybody. You quietly smirk to yourself in response; people’s eyes were on you, so you had to act elegant and proper, like the palace ladies always tell you to do.

The blow of a horn signifies that the show is starting, and you see a lineup of several fire benders enter the stage.

Shirtless.

Including Zuko.

Your seat is high up above the stage, so you can’t see many details, but your eyes unconsciously check his body out. You knew Zuko was fit and lean, but you had never seen him shirtless. Aside from dinner or public events, you and Zuko almost were never in each other’s presence. You don’t even sleep in the same room, so you had never seen him shirtless.

You force yourself to look away from him; he wasn’t the only shirtless fire bender on stage after all. As the event begins, you watch the men perform a form of fire bending—what you assume to be the Dancing Dragon, and people begin to holler and cheer. You look away and doze off; you’ve seen this a million times in previous years. When they finish, an announcer starts speaking, and almost immediately brings everyone’s attention to you up in the stands.

“Where is she?! There she is!” he points upwards at you, and your heart stops for a second. 

“Doesn’t everyone want to see Fire Lord Zuko perform up close and personal for his beautiful wife?!” he asks the crowd, and everyone cheers. 

“HELL YEAHHHH!!!” Sokka screams, and you smack his arm. 

“OW! Come on, don’t you want to see him up close in all his fire glory?!” he asks you, his eyes lit up with excitement. 

“Not really.”

“BRING HER DOWN!” Sokka yells back at the announcer and the crowd hollers again in amusement. 

You purse your lips together in irritation. You know Sokka wants to see you in misery, so you make sure to step on his foot on your way down from the stands, smiling to yourself as he yells in pain.

It’s a lot hotter once you get down to the stage. There’s no cool shade you can sit under and the flames from the torches and other benders make it even hotter. The announcer drags a chair for you to sit on center stage, and Zuko comes up to stand beside you. 

You try not to look too much or make it obvious, but out of the corner of your eye you watch him struggle to catch his breath as he stands there—shirtless and sweaty. His abs are so beautifully defined and it’s obvious the work he’s put in to achieve that. His pecs are glistening in sweat and the sun rays are shining so brightly on him like he’s some God. He runs his hands through his long locks of hair, messing it up so easily but he still looks so effortlessly handsome. 

You’re staring—stop staring. Zuko is going to notice. The announcer is going to notice when he stops talking about whatever it is he’s talking about. Look away. You can’t look away. If you stare more, Zuko will notice and it will be weird. 

Stop staring.

It’s too late; he's taken notice of your gaze. He looks down, his sharp eyes bore into yours as he stares back down at you. You don’t know what he is thinking, or maybe you just don’t see it because the sun is in your eye. But he’s looking back at you almost seductively, but maybe you’re just imagining that and it’s probably just the sun. But he’s never looked at you before like this; usually he can’t hide his feelings of hatred and dislike in his eyes, but this time none of that is there. Your best guess is because the two of you are in public and he’s actively trying not to look at you that way.

“—will perform a fire bending performance he prepared in advance for his beautiful wife!” you snap back to reality, breaking eye contact with Zuko and looking back at the announcer.

A performance he prepared in advance for you? Please, what a load of bullshit that was. You knew that was just something the palace told him to say to continue to sell your cheap fake love story with Zuko.

The performance begins, and other fire benders join the stage again to show off their moves with fire alongside Zuko. Fire is dancing in the air and all around you and it feels a million times hotter and a million times more miserable because of the stupid heat. You’re not enjoying it at all, but you keep a smile on your face to fool the people. Your eyes found a way to follow Zuko’s movements: he is smooth, athletic and agile, and elegant. You had to admit he looked good fire bending, but you’d never say that. It had to be because he’s probably been practicing. It feels like a million more years until the stupid dance finally ends and Zuko holds his hand out to you to escort you back to the stands, but not before the announcer disrupts you two.

“Woah woah woah, where are you going so early?!” he stops the two of you from stepping off the stage. 

“Tell me dear,” he looks at you then gestures to the audience. “What did you think of Fire Lord Zuko and his amazing performance?”

You barely paid any attention to it. “It was amazing! I always love watching him firebend.” your response is automatic, and so is the exciting smile you put up for everyone to holler and cheer at. 

“She loved it, folks! Zuko, how are you feeling right now?”

“I’m happy she liked it, I worked hard to impress her.” His response and smile is just as automatic and fake as yours was.

“Wonderful, wonderful! Well, folks, what’re we thinking! A little kiss of appreciation between our lovely couple?”

Your heart practically drops to your stomach, and you feel Zuko’s hand tighten around yours. It’s not like you’ve never kissed him in public before, you have multiple times. But all those times were calculated and carefully planned out. This is a spontaneous kiss in front of thousands of people. Your hand feels a little sweaty, so you let go, but you quickly turn to Zuko and face him. You react quicker than him, standing on your tippy toes and tilting your chin up to give him easier access.

“Well?” you feel like throwing up. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Zuko?” you feel yourself cringe. 

The crowd is loud, but Zuko quickly adjusts. “So eager to kiss me now, are we?” he automatically leans down and presses his lips against yours. 

Soft. Supple. Zuko didn’t think he would really feel the kiss out, and usually he didn’t, but this was the first time he noticed how good it felt to kiss you. Or maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from moving around. Yeah, probably that.

It’s almost as if his lips have a mind of his own and refuse to listen to him, because he’s tilting his head to kiss you more deeply and one of his hands are entangling themselves in your hair and the other is moving down to the small of your back as he holds you closer to himself. He can feel the erratic thumping of his heartbeat, fast and panicked. 

People in the crowd are yelling louder now, hyping up the two of you as you kiss and you pull away. You look at him, cheeks colored with pink and droopy eyes. He’s never had any sort of reaction to kissing you before, so why now? You figured he was blushing because of the heat; after all it was really hot.

•••

“You looked like you hated the performance,” Zuko observes out loud as he leads you back to the stands. The two of you mutually decided to go back to the stands through the palace halls instead of outside to get some cool air as a break.

“What do you think? You were front and center of the whole thing, of course I hated it.” you reply.

“Why were ogling at me then?” he looks down at you and smirks. 

Did he notice you staring at him earlier? Jesus, of course he did, you were so obvious! You do a mental facepalm, embarrassed he noticed.

“I wasn’t ogling; you just smelled gross, you were all sweaty. That’s all.”

“That’s not what I saw.”

“You saw wrong. Humble yourself for once.”

It’s quiet for a beat, then you decide to poke fun at his reaction to kissing you.

“You liked the kiss that much, huh?”

He stops in his tracks. “What? That was just for show.”

“Really? Then why were you all blushy and red?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sounds serious. “It’s hot as hell outside, so don’t get your hopes up just because I can give the people a good kiss. It was all an act.”

You don’t know why, but you felt a little disappointed at what he said. Sure, it was true, but it still tugged at your heart a bit.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He’s walking again, but you have the absurd idea to test if what he said is true. Grabbing him by his arm, you tug him towards you with force, and when he leans down to you the slightest, you lean up to kiss him.

Zuko freezes in place. He panics, unsure of what to do or how to feel in the moment. It all happened too fast—the grabbing, the kissing, the—why is his heart beating fast? He’s unable to think, mind and heart cloudy with confusion. Why were you kissing him? And why was he kissing you back? He normally doesn’t find himself lost in kissing you, but that’s exactly how he was feeling right now. It’s like his head was empty and the only thing he could focus on was the sweet taste of your lips.

Oh, God.

Oh no. 

No.

No.

No.

Zuko was leaning into you again, but this time with more passion. It felt rushed, like he was in some sort of hurry to get as close to you as he physically could. His hands couldn’t help but hold your face, gently grabbing your chin to tilt your head into the kiss. God, your skin was so soft and felt so nice to rub. He softly moves his lips against yours, his nose brushing against yours as he continues to kiss you. It’s like his body has a mind of its own, acting on its own desires and refusing to listen to his head. He feels your hands grab at his neck, wrapping around his throat as you forcefully push him away from you.

Zuko coughs for a second, stepping back in surprise, his hand coming up to rub his neck. 

“Did you just choke me?” he accuses you.

“You did like the kiss!” you point a finger at him, a victorious smile planted on your lips. You wanted to test out and see if it was because of your kiss that he was all red and blushy, and you were right.

“What?” He feels his cheeks heat up. “No, no I did not. Why did you kiss me? Then choke me?” 

And why did he kind of like it?

“To prove my point.”

“What point?” he was still thinking about your hands on his throat.

“You liked the kiss! That’s why you were all red in the face like you are right now,” you told him arrogantly. “And I didn’t choke you, I just grabbed you by the neck to push you away. Why, you got a thing for being choked?”

“No!” Maybe. “That’s absurd.” I wouldn’t mind trying it out. “Let’s just go.” 

You watch him walk ahead of you, your eyes shifting from his back to the tip of his red ears.

•••

There was going to be a ball. Another stupid ball where you would have to dress up (the only fun part) and socialize with nobles and other random rich people. Sometimes, you’d fake being sick in order to skip out on these balls, but tonight was a celebratory ball for your first year of marriage with Zuko. A miserable first year. You roll your eyes, cringing at the thought that it would be like this for the rest of your life. Although you had accepted it long before the wedding, every time you thought about it, it still managed to upset you.

“Are you comfortable?” one of your maids asked you as she adjusted your dress. 

“Not really,” you had a sudden thought. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit ill…”

“You cannot skip your anniversary ball, your majesty.” she spoke. She knew exactly what kind of excuse you were trying to pull.

You roll your eyes in annoyance. “Fine.”

As your maids finished dressing you up, you were instructed to meet Zuko before the ball so that the two of you could arrive together. Your maids walked you to the entrance before the ball, where you saw Zuko standing there alone waiting for you. 

“Took you long enough,” he complained.

You looked towards the door, the loud music making its way through the closed doors. “Well at least I look good. You, however, look like you just rolled out of bed. As usual.”

He ignored your sarcastic comment. “Look, tonight we need to act in love, so none of that attitude you always give me.” 

“We’ve been doing this for a year now; I think I know how it works. And anyway, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to act in love with me.” you lectured him.

“A part of my soul dies every time I have to kiss you or even look at you lovingly.”

“Please, what soul?”

As Zuko looked down at you to respond, one of his advisors stopped him. The two of you looked behind you to see Jia, a frail elderly woman Zuko often sought out for advice.

“Ahem, um, maybe it would be better to separate the two of you for now. Fire Lord Zuko can enter first,” she then turned to you with a sweet smile. “We’ll just have you enter from the top of the staircase into the ballroom when it begins. Everyone’s eyes will be on your beautiful gown then.”

•••

Zuko was chatting with a couple nobles about the cabbage market, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation to kill time, but he was really just dozing off and staring into space. If there was one thing he had in common with you, it was that the two of you disliked ballroom parties. When a musical horn went off to call the attention of all guests, he looked towards the top of the staircase where he knew you’d be entering.

“Everyone, please welcome Fire Lord Zuko’s wife!” someone chanted, and people began to clap and cheer.

He watched you emerge from a door, only to notice that you had changed your appearance. Your dress was more casual, you were wearing shoes that looked more comfortable, and you had left your hair down. 

Perhaps it was the alcohol he had been sipping on, or the loud music, or everyone cheering and clapping at the same time, but for once since meeting you, he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you. Your skin was glowing and your hair was so perfectly bouncy and lucious it was difficult for him to look anywhere else. It was as if there was nothing and no one else to look at but you. He felt the thump in his chest and was unable to focus on anything else until he had been staring for too long and you were already in front of him.

She looks beautiful… for once. That’s new.

He was admiring your beauty again, sharp eyes focused on your face, noticing all the details on your face, details he had never noticed before. He was sure you probably thought he was glaring at you, but really—he was in awe. He had never seen you look so comfortable in something the palace ladies dressed you in. 

His eyes were practically glued to your figure and he was having trouble snapping himself out of the sort of trance you put him under. He was feeling weak in the knees and could feel himself unsteady, you looked beautiful. Too beautiful.

Beautiful wasn’t even a good enough word to describe how stunning you looked. Ethereal, ravishing, alluring, bewitching—none of these words were enough to describe your beauty. None of them did you justice. To him, your beauty was thousands of times more beguiling than the flowers in the palace gardens you spent all your free time looking at. If he were to choose to either look at you or the flowers for an eternity, he would choose you. 

And God, did he hate that. He hated the way he was looking at you right now. He hated the way that he knew he couldn’t even hide how attracted he was to you. He hated the way he couldn’t even find the right words to describe how beautiful you looked, he hated how he couldn’t pull his eyes from you no matter how hard he tried, and he hated the way that you didn’t even know how beautiful you are.

“Zuko,” you bowed politely, and his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you moved.

He snapped back out of your trance and shook his head. It had to be the alcohol. He probably had too much and that’s why he was feeling shaky and nervous, not because his jaw almost dropped seeing how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. He blamed the alcohol. There was no way he would feel this way if he were sober. He was tipsy. He had to be.

“You look nice,” he began, knowing everyone’s eyes and ears were on the two of you. I can’t take my eyes off of her.

“That’s it?” he watched you fake a chuckle. “I’m not beautiful?” If he didn’t know your real personality, he would’ve believed your fake laugh and fake smile you had plastered on your face right now. 

“You look beautiful as always,” he replied. Has she always been so pretty? Normally he would’ve felt himself cringe and had the urge to vomit calling you attractive, but this time he said it as if he actually meant it. He did mean it. 

Had to be the alcohol.

He felt you grab hold of his arm as he led you to the center of the ballroom and prepared to dance. As the guests formed a circle to watch the two of you dance, suddenly he felt a rise of panic in his chest. Normally he was used to people’s eyes on him and normally he was used to dancing with you and not making a big deal of it, but something about tonight was different.

It was the fact that you looked more like yourself when you had chosen to wear something that you felt more comfortable in and the fact that you wore your hair down which you almost never did in a ball for reasons he didn’t know and the fact that because you were so comfortable, your confidence was through the roof and he found himself drawn to that.

You feel Zuko’s hand snake around your waist as he pulls you in closer to him, your face dangerously close to his as you look into his amber eyes. It was like his eyes were drilling holes into yours: he was looking at you so intensely and with so much conflict swimming in his pupils if confused you. Was he mad at you or something? If he wasn’t, why was he looking at you as if he was and why was he gripping your waist so firmly like you were going to run away or something?

Your hand came up to rest on his shoulders, and on cue, the two of you began a waltz to the instrumental music. The two of you flowed so easily to the music, swaying with passion and chemistry. You lean in closer to him, knowing the guests would think you both are close and in love. You watched everyone’s eyes on you, admiring and watching as you know people thought you and Zuko were head over heels in love with each other.

Unlike how the two of you usually dance, Zuko began to feel stiff and tense, and you wondered why that was. This dance was no different than any other dance, so why was he acting like this?

You tilted your chin upwards to get closer to his ear so that only he would hear what you’re saying. “What’s wrong with you?” you whisper. “Why do you feel so stiff?”

“I’m not stiff,” he muttered passive-aggressively. He shuddered at the feeling of your hoarse whisper against his ear. 

“Relax a little, Zuko, everyone’s watching.” you warned him and assumed he forced himself to relax because he loosened his grip on you and was able to finish the dance with no more issues.

After your dance with him, you speed off to the refreshments in need of a drink and left him in the dust. As you pop some chocolates in your mouth, your eyes watch the crowd. You’re scanning faces when your eyes meet a familiar pair of golden eyes.

Zuko. 

His eyes bore into yours from across the ballroom. Though people walk across your line of vision and break your staring contest with Zuko, his eyes stay on yours, watching you. 

No. Admiring you. Almost longing for you. Zuko’s gaze softens, eyes filled with tender love, and for a mere second you think he might actually be in love with you.

You can’t help but stare back. Why was he looking at you like that? Did he hate dancing with you so much that he had to throw you a death stare? 

Although you question why he’s looking at you with so much passion, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest. It’s making you nervous. He’s making you nervous.

Zuko is making you nervous.

His eyes are still on you, watching your every move and even though people are trying to talk to him, he’s ignoring them. It was as if you were the only person in the room and he was begging for your attention with his eyes. 

You are the first to break eye contact.

Displeased with the bland tastes of everything, you looked around and noticed a waiter walking around with a tray of drinks. Waving him over, you grabbed a glass from him and downed it. It was sweet and carbonated, something you’ve never tasted before. As you turned to him to grab one more, you noticed the waiter was already gone. Shrugging it off, you turned to the desserts to eat. You were in the middle of tasting a chocolate when Mai came up to you.

“What’s up with Zuko?” she asked, popping a cookie into her mouth and leaning against the table of food.

“Did you see how stiff he was?” you asked her, sneaking a look back at him, but he’s nowhere to be found. You and Mai had become friends sometime after they had broken up and she was one of the few people who gave you comfort after you were put into this arranged marriage with Zuko. It was something small, but something you thought about often and were extremely grateful for.

“Yeah, it was painful to watch. These people are stupid to not realize that.” she watched you, eyes darting around your face to read your expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

Her eyes started to grow in worry as she looked closer at your face. “You look, I don’t know. Hot and red. Not the good hot. The ‘you’re heating up’ hot. Are you sick?” she held the back of her hand to your forehead. “Oh my God, you’re heating up! It feels like you have a fever!”

“What?” you questioned, patting your cheeks and neck. You were burning up. “Oh shit,” as you were heating up, your eyesight began to blur and your head was getting dizzy.

“Hey!” you heard her start to yell, but her voice sounded faint. You struggled to stay on your feet, wobbling as Mai grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you. You looked around the room and Zuko was nowhere to be found. Everyone began to stare at you and ask if you’re okay, but everyone’s voices including Mai’s were becoming more and more faint and harder to hear. You tried to stay on your feet and she tried to keep you upright, but you couldn’t help yourself and it was like your body was beginning to shut down. Your vision was almost completely blurred and so was your hearing, and very soon your body shut down and you felt yourself fainting as you fell to the ground.

•••

Zuko was out of breath as he rushed through the ballroom, grabbing random people’s shoulders and asking where you were. Some people had explained in a panic that you fainted suddenly while he was in the bathroom, and that you were taken by some maids somewhere else. After he had found out you were in the private clinic in the palace, he exited the party in a rush, practically sprinting down the hallways of the palace. He felt himself functioning off his adrenaline as he ran to you in a panicked worry. He was only gone for a couple of minutes, and in those couple of minutes you had fainted? What the hell did you even do to get yourself in a situation like that? Reaching the clinic quickly, he slammed the doors open and saw his friends sitting in the lobby. 

“Where is my wife?!” Zuko asked hurriedly in a state of panic and anger. How could this happen to you? Who could have caused something like this? Were you even okay?

“Zuko, you need to calm down first.” Aang said in an attempt to pacify him. Aang swore he saw fire burning in Zuko’s eyes and steam blowing out of his nose.

“Where is she?” he brushed the Avatar off, pushing him to the side as he opened one of the doors. He burst through and saw Katara healing you as you laid unconscious on the bed. Beside you was Mai, and as soon as he saw her, he couldn’t help but shift the blame to her and glare.

“What did you do?!” he turned his anger on Mai, stepping closer to her in annoyance.

Zuko wasn’t thinking straight (obviously) and was letting his emotions dictate his words and actions. Not knowing who the cause of your condition was pissing him off and hurting him more than he wanted it to.

“What? Are you stupid? I didn’t do anything! You should be thankful! She was poisoned and fainted, and I brought her here for some privacy!”

“Zuko, Mai only helped,” Katara calmly chimed in. “If you would please stop yelling, I could heal her faster.”

“Well, hurry it up!” he snapped as his eyes looked over your unconscious body. On any other normal day, Zuko wouldn’t have cared too much about you being poisoned, but tonight was different and he couldn’t figure out why. 

The fact that someone—another human being—went out of their way to poison you didn’t sit right with him. Why would someone want to poison you and not him? He was unable to come up with a reason as to why someone would want to kill you, so he had to find out. He had to find who wanted you gone and had to figure out why. Because even though you both didn’t get along, it’s not like he wanted you dead. Even if he were the one poisoned and you’d be happy, he would never wish for something like this to happen to you; he was well aware you already hated the royal life.

Zuko felt his jaw clench in anger as he left the room, heading straight to a close advisor of his: Jia. 

•••

“Jia,” he knew she was always in the kitchens around this time at night, drinking tea. Oftentimes his uncle joined her, but not tonight.

“Hm?” she barely looked up from her tea as she stirred it calmly.

He stood there in front of her, hands in fists as he waited for some sort of reaction. You had just been poisoned in front of everyone, and this was how she was reacting? 

“Hello?! My wife’s just been poisoned, and this is how you react?! Jia, my wife—”

“I already sent out a couple soldiers to search for the culprit, and they already have a lead on him. Apparently he was disguised as a waiter when she was poisoned.” she explained, and finally decided to look up at the distressed Fire Lord. 

“I got on it as soon as it happened. Don’t worry, at this rate, we’ll have him in cuffs by the morning.” Jia’s quick action calmed Zuko’s nerves a bit, and he found himself wanting to sit with her to get himself together. 

“She changed her clothes for the ball tonight,” he told Jia after pouring himself a cup of tea. “She looked different.”

“How so? All she did was ask to change her dress and leave her hair down.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just less annoying, I guess.”

The elderly woman chuckled, warming her hands with her tea.

“She threw a knife at me the other night,” Zuko said to fill the silence when Jia didn’t reply. “A steak knife.”

“You two are a match made in heaven.”

He nearly choked on his tea and almost spat it out. As he coughed into his elbow, he could barely get a response out. “Match made in heaven? Jia, are you blind or something? I just said she threw a knife at me the other night! Were you not listening?!”

“You should go see her.” she spoke, ignoring his complaints.

“I already did.”

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow in response, surprised he even went to visit you in the first place. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not heartless.”

“I never said you were.”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know for a fact she will not want my presence there when she wakes up.”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t want you there physically. But, you could send a message to her another way.”

•••

Your massive headache was the only thing you could focus on as your eyes struggled to open. The pounding had you feeling cranky and groggy. You just wanted to go back to bed, but Katara insisted you sit up in bed and drink some water. Your lips feel dry and you feel shaky and weak as you force yourself to drink something.

“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.

“That’s nice,” you brushed it off; Mai probably didn’t even know the meaning of purple hyacinths. There was no need to overthink it. “Thanks for taking care of me.” you told Katara, looking up at her and seeing her eye bags. How long has she been there with you?

“No problem, get some rest.”

“You should too. You look like you haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll be fine on my own. If I need anything, I’ll call a nurse.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her. 

When she nodded and stood up, she made sure to tell you she’ll visit once a day until you get better. You smiled at her; Katara was such a kind soul and friend.

•••

A couple more days passed and you were no longer bedridden after those days. You could finally muster up enough strength to get out of bed and walk around. In those couple of days, you were informed that the man who poisoned you was the waiter that served you a drink at the ballroom party. Thankfully, he was easily caught by soldiers who were sent out to search for him, and he was sitting in jail now as you recovered. You were told it was some scheme to try and hurt Zuko, but jokes on them because you and Zuko didn’t love each other. He didn’t even bother to come visit you or send someone to check on you. Not that it bothered you… it didn’t. You knew that you and Zuko didn’t get along, but you still felt your heart drop a little when Katara told you that he never stopped by, and that Mai was swinging by your room more to check on you.

You already knew Mai had been stopping by, because every day since you’ve woken up you noticed that there was a new vase of purple hyacinths sitting by you. You never saw Mai drop them off herself, so you assumed she did it in the early morning while you were still sleeping. 

Even your husband’s ex-girlfriend cared more about your well-being than he did. Even though it was an arranged marriage and you and Zuko never wanted to be near each other, you probably still would have gone to see him if he was poisoned, so knowing he wasn’t doing the same for you tugged at your heartstrings a bit, but you didn’t want to admit it.

You shook your head in a physical attempt to shake Zuko from your thoughts. Standing up, you decided that you’d take a walk around the gardens for some fresh air. As you threw on a jacket, you stepped into your shoes and opened the door to leave. Stepping out from your room, you turn and see a disheveled Zuko sitting on a chair against the wall next to your door. When he notices you, he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s quiet. You look down at him, partly shocked but mostly annoyed. His hair looked messy and all over the place, he was dressed down, and he was holding a small blanket in his lap.

“What are you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept.” you tell him.

“Not much,” he weakly said, a clear tiredness laced in his voice. “I’ve been sleeping out here and waiting for you to come out.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you retorted, walking away and not letting him respond. 

Did he really expect you to believe that he had been sleeping out in the hallway these past couple days waiting for you? Did he think you were stupid? Sure, it looked like he was telling the truth, but you doubt he actually did it. Why would he anyway? The two of you didn’t like each other and never wanted to be around each other.

“Wait for me,” he pleaded, and started following your footsteps like a dog. “And no, I don’t have anything better to do.”

“How about running your country? Did you forget you’re the Fire Lord?” you rolled your eyes and made your way to the gardens as he followed after you. 

Why was he still following you? Why was he acting like he actually loved and cared for you? It confused you and made your heart ache and you didn’t want to be around him. It was just too confusing and too much for you right now.

The gardens were empty like usual, so the only noise was your footsteps against the gravel and the chirping of the birds in the early morning. But of course, Zuko’s stupid loud footsteps just have to follow in your direction and ruin the entire mood.

“I couldn’t focus on anything else.”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to walk faster in an attempt to shake him off. It was so obvious you didn’t want to be near him, so why wouldn’t he just take the hint and leave? You weren’t fully healed, so you were growing tired as you began walking in the garden’s maze in hopes to lose him. 

“Fuck off.”

You felt your heart beating faster because you were feeling weak and tired again, but you ignored it and kept going. You didn’t want Zuko to bother you anymore. He calls your name once more, and his voice sounds faint so you know you’ve already begun to lose him in the maze. 

Turning a corner to catch your breath, you grab your chest. Your vision was becoming hazy and it was hard staying on two feet. It was like you were poisoned again once more and you felt yourself wobbling and struggling to even stand. When Zuko calls your name again, it’s because he’s catching you as you fall to the ground.

He’s yelling your name again, but this time you can barely hear him and his face is becoming more blurry as the time passes. He’s shaking you and yelling your name, but your hearing is clouded and you feel yourself fainting in his arms, your eyes closing shut against your own will.

•••

When you awaken, the only sound in the room is the cackling fire by the bed you’re lying in. Except it’s not your bed. Sitting in a chair and half lying on the side of the bed is Zuko, sleeping soundly. You sit up and look around, the curtains are drawn so it’s almost completely dark in the room except for the fire going on the other side of the room. 

It’s Zuko’s room. 

You had never been in his room, but you could tell it was his from the portraits of his uncle and mother and a nearby wall and his dual swords sitting above the bed on the wall. Looking at his bedside table, you eye a book sitting on it.

Flowers & Their Meanings

Zuko reads? 

You grab the book, noting a corner of a page folded in, and you flip to it. The page is titled ‘Purple Hyacinth’ and below was some written information on it. Your thoughts run back to when you had first awakened after being poisoned, back to your conversation with Katara.

“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.

No.

There was absolutely no way it was Zuko that brought those flowers to you. Katara said it herself that Mai brought those flowers. You did think that it was weird for Mai to bring you flowers since she hated them, but Zuko? He hates you, and you hate him. So why on Earth would he bring you apology flowers? It didn’t make any sense.

“You saw the flowers?” 

You flinch in surprise, shutting the book and setting it down on the nightstand. Zuko is awake now, and sits back up in his chair. Crossing his arms against his chest, he silently and awkwardly avoids your eyes.

“That was you?” you stare at him in disbelief.

“You think Mai would give you flowers?” he stares deeply into your eyes, and you have the urge to look away.

“That’s what Katara said.”

He sighs. “I told her not to tell you about them.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d hate it if I visited, so I sent flowers instead. I told Katara to say it was someone else.”

Actually, you thought the flowers were sweet, but that was because you thought they were from Mai and not Zuko. You and Zuko never got along well, so why would he give you flowers? It didn’t make sense at all and was confusing you. Why was he so worried when you got poisoned and why has he been following you around like a lost puppy since you woke up? 

“What is wrong with you?” you said without thinking.

“Huh?”

“You wait for me to awaken after being poisoned, you read a book about flowers to pick the right ones to send to me, then you won’t stop following me after I wake up? What the hell’s going on with you, Zuko? What happened to trying to get Mai to love you again, huh? What, now that you know you can’t have her, you’re paying attention to me now, is that it?” you were starting to feel furious, mostly out of confusion, but sadness as well. 

The sudden shift in Zuko’s attitude had you feeling lost and had you questioning how you felt about him. Since you had gotten married, you didn’t enjoy being his wife, so now that things were changing, you were questioning why that was. 

“No, stop. That’s not the truth at all. That’s far from the truth.”

“You’re a liar.” you stand up, stepping from his 

warm bed sheets as you walk towards the door. He quickly catches up to you, closing the door with his hand from behind you. He’s standing close to you, too close you can feel his breath tickle the back of your neck.

“Let me explain.”

You take a deep breath, debating if you wanted to hear him out. 

“Please,” he begs you, his voice small and careful. It was as if he was walking on eggshells around you. When you react with nothing but silence, he takes it as a cue to continue.

“Things have changed, okay?” he tells you, and you turn around to look up at him and face him. 

You’ve never been so up close and personal with Zuko, not like this anyways. He smells clean, and you eye his loosely tightened robe—it’s not covering his body entirely. His chest is slightly exposed, heaving up and down as he nervously tries to control his breathing around you.

“Oh yeah? How so?” you keep your eyes trained on his chest, because if you look into his eyes, you might just give in to him. 

“I know we’ve had our differences—” he begins.

“I never wanted to marry you.”

“I know, I felt the same way. Well, I did. I feel… differently now.”

“Different?” you look up at him with a glare, a hidden anger suddenly starting to rise to the surface the more you stare into his dumb pretty eyes.

“Listen, I never wanted to marry you either. And when we did get married, I hated it. I know you did, too. But I don’t know, recently—recently things have changed. In a good way. I don’t know if I’ve always felt this way, maybe I have, but I can’t help but be drawn to you. And it’s driving me absolutely insane. I thought I was insane. Because it’s like, every time I see you, I can’t help but fall for you. I can’t help but stare at you and I can’t help but want you.” 

Zuko speaks with such honesty and passion there is no doubting his words, and that’s what pisses you off. It takes getting poisoned for him to realize he’s in love with you? Where the hell did that even come from?

“I hate you.” is all you can say, because you don’t know how to feel. You’re lost and confused and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I know you don’t,” he speaks softly, his hand coming up to tilt your chin upwards.

His eyes look like a brighter shade of his stupid golden eyes, and he’s staring into your soul so intensely it makes you shudder.

“I do. I do hate you.” you whisper, your voice shaking and unsure. God, you probably sounded like an idiot.

“Oh yeah?” his tone is mischievous as he leans in closer, his eyes lowering to your lips.

“Yes. I hate everything about you.”

“Say it again. Tell me you hate me.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you.” 

Zuko leans in quickly, his lips meeting yours in an instant. You hesitate for a moment, relishing in his soft kiss. It’s like time froze all around you and all you could think of was Zuko’s lips on yours and his large and soft hands coming up to gently stroke your cheeks.

His kiss is so innocent and sweet it pisses you off knowing how good he is at kissing. He leans into you, just barely pressing his chest to yours, and you can feel his heartbeat quicken. One hand is in your hair, combing through the soft strands as his other hand holds your waist, directing your body to press back into his. His thumb is rubbing at your hip, trying to feel you through the fabric of your clothes and suddenly you have the thought and urge to rip it all off so he can feel you up as much as he wants.

“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.

“What?”

“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.

“I hate you.”

“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.

His head tilts to the side, the hand that was in your hair moving to grab you by your chin, easily directing you to open your mouth into the kiss. He licks into you, desperate for more as he kisses you harder, like some starved man that hasn’t had a meal in forever. His chest is heaving and you feel the hand on your waist wandering the curves of your body, desperate to feel your bare skin.

You push him away from you slightly, but only because you’re out of breath and need a moment to process what just happened.

Zuko kissed you. And you kissed him back.

But he did more than just kiss you. He made you feel something. He made you want him back. Something you never thought he was capable of. 

“What about…” you start, unsure if you should say what you’re about to say. 

You either have no talent for hiding your thoughts, or Zuko knows you well, because it’s as if he’s reading your mind because he finishes your sentence for you.

“Mai?”

You nod silently. You always thought she was the one for him, after all up until a while ago he was trying to get back with her.

“Things have changed,” he starts. “Actually, they’ve been changing for awhile. And it’s not what you think.”

Please, did he really think you would believe that? “Okay, then explain calling Mai to confess your love to her again in the gardens.”

“That day in the gardens,” he explains as he leads you to sit on his bed with him. “I didn’t call her out to confess to her. I wanted to see her to ask about you.”

Your eyes narrowed at him; you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. 

“I know you two are close, so I wanted to ask her for advice because I was already falling for you. But she was calling me a dick for bothering her so she left.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks stunned. “You wouldn’t have believed me even if I explained it to you, so it didn’t matter.”

He’s right, you would’ve thought he was a liar and you probably would’ve called him a liar like you did five minutes ago.

“So… you’re not still in love with her?”

“No.”

“You’re telling me you’re not hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with her that you can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?” you tease in one breath, your heart feeling lighter.

“No, but do you want to know who I’m actually hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with that I can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?”

“I wonder who it could be.”

“Why don’t you take a guess.” he teases, leaning over you, sharp eyes watching your every move.

“I don’t know.” you do know.

“You don’t?” he chuckles, leaning into your neck, his breath lightly tickling your skin. 

“Nope.”

“Would you like a hint?” His voice is so deep and sultry you’re practically trembling at how sexy he sounds.

“That’d be nice.”

“Well, the woman I’m in love with is fucking crazy,” Zuko begins, his hand coming up to stroke your thigh. Your eyes move down to watch his muscular hands massage your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your pussy with each firm stroke. It’s faint, but you feel yourself clench around nothing.

The veins on his hand are distracting.

“She tried to kill me with a steak knife recently,” he laughs as he recalls the memory, pulling away slightly to look at you. 

He is watching your face, trying to read and memorize your features as his eyes gaze into yours. There is a new softness in his eyes when he looks at you, unlike the usual sharp glare he shoots you when you both make eye contact.

“You’re in love with a woman who tried to kill you?” you laugh quietly, going along with whatever joke he’s making.

“Surprisingly, yes. I’m even looking at her right now. Do you know who I’m in love with now?” he smiles, his eyes curving into a smile as well.

“I might need another hint.” you answer, your eyes flickering down to his lips. You hope he will kiss you again.

He picks up on your hint, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ve kissed her a couple times now. But the last couple times,” he kisses you again. “It’s like she’s laced her lips with drugs or something. I’ve become addicted to her lips in just a couple kisses.” he glances down for a second, grabbing your hand and leading it to where he wants it.

He’s hard.

He directs you to stroke him through the thin material of his loosely tied robe, his lips coming down to suck on the soft skin of your neck. 

“And in just a couple kisses,” he says again. “She’s managed to make me so hard.” he breathes against your neck. 

“You make me so hard.” Zuko whispers faintly. 

His voice sounds so sweet and sexy it almost pisses you off how much his tone is turning you on. You stroke him through his robe, feeling his hard cock underneath. You have the urge to suddenly rip off his robe, wanting to feel him. His abs, his smooth skin, his strong thighs, and his hardened dick. He lets out a soft moan against your neck, his hips unexpectedly bucking upwards for more friction. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” he whispers in your ear, his voice a slight whine. 

“I think I have an idea.” you laugh, slightly tugging at the strings that tie his robe together. It’s so loosely wrapped around him that if you just tugged on it slightly, you would finally get to see him naked. He watches your fingers play with his robe, sensing your impatience. 

“Take it off.” he tells you, and you act automatically, undoing the knot. He stands briefly, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground. You stay seated on the bed, your eyes practically groping his entire body. He’s so sculpted and muscular and perfect in every way it almost pisses you off.

His hardened cock springs to life, red and angry at the tip, he looks like he could cum from just a couple strokes. Your eyes make their way back to his, and he’s watching you with such an intensity in his eyes it makes you shudder in pleasure. You stare at him in awe, almost lost in his eyes you don’t notice him stroking your cheek, his voice a small whisper. 

“I love seeing you look up at me like that,” he grins, grabbing his dick as he continues to caress your cheek. “It makes me want to ruin you.” You watch him stroke himself, his pre-cum leaking at the tip.

“Then ruin me.”

He smiles a sweet smile in response, before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, forcing your lips apart before he shoves his dick into your mouth. 

He’s big, way too big and the biggest you’ve ever had, but you love it. You love how it fills your mouth and you feel like you’re going to choke and it makes you think about just how good it will feel when he finally fucks you. You’re taking him all in your mouth, desperate to hear something from him, to see some sort of reaction that you’re making him feel good. Your hands grab onto both of his thighs, feeling him tense beneath your fingertips. 

Strands of your hair fall in front of your face, blocking your view of him, so he grabs it, combing it behind your ears to clear your face. His hands grab at your head, shoving it further down his cock, and when you gag that’s when you hear it. 

A low, desperate, sweet sounding moan that makes you clench around nothing again. He bites down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to quiet himself, but your mouth keeps sucking him in he can’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting deeper into your mouth. Your eyes water and you rub your thighs together, anxious and impatient and wanting him to hurry and fuck you. “I love your mouth.”

He pulls out, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his tip as he pulls his cock out. He’s visibly more turned on now; pupils dilated and cheeks red and heated.

“Your mouth feels good,” he easily grabs you by the hips to move you further up the bed. “But I bet this feels even better.” he forcefully spreads your legs with his knees and presses a hand to your clothed pussy. “For both of us.”

“It’d feel even better if you undressed me first.” you command him.

“Yes, ma’am.” he obeys, practically ripping your clothes off and throwing them behind him.

Your underwear is completely soaked, you look away and blush in embarrassment. God, did you look that desperate for some dick? Zuko seems to be infatuated with how wet you’ve become, because he leans down in front of you, his mouth hovering over your heat. 

“You don’t have to.” you tell him, grabbing his hair to stop him. 

“You’re right. I don’t have to,” he agrees, spreading your legs further so that you’re completely spread out for him, your entire body exposed for him and only him. “But all I can think about right now is tasting you.” he says before he places a kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re so wet,” he observes aloud. “I love it.” 

He leans in, his tongue sticking out to lick a strip up your wetness. He’s lapping at your pussy, licking and sucking and kissing everything it makes you dizzy. He sucks on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance. You’re so turned on by the sound of him eating you out, you grab his hair by instinct to pull him closer to you. When he groans, you mistake it for a groan of annoyance or pain, so you let go. His lips leave your wetness for a moment, his eyes looking up to meet yours.

“Grab my hair again,” he takes your hand and entangles it into his hair again. “I love when you pull on it. I fucking love it.”

You can’t help but whimper, pulling on his roots as he moans in pleasure and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tugging on his hair or because he loves eating you out or both. Your hips are moving on their own, bucking upwards into his face as his fingers easily make their way inside you, fucking you slowly to loosen you up. 

“Ahh,” you cringe at yourself, almost ashamed and embarrassed you can’t hold yourself back. Your hands leave his hair to cover your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. Zuko pulls away from you, wiping his mouth before tugging at your hands.

“Why are you covering your face?” he asks, his hands gently wrapping at your wrists and rubbing your skin soothingly.

“No reason,” you shake your head, mortified.

“Come on now, let me see your face.” he grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head as he holds you down, his face inches away from yours.

You’re even more embarrassed and red now. You’re both completely naked and he’s situated between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance teasingly. Your hands are pinned above you, and the weight of his hand is holding you down, you’re unable to move. He’s watching you, basking in your embarrassment.

“I love your voice,” he assures you. 

“When you’re yelling at me,” he kisses your cheek.

“Insulting me,” he kisses your other cheek.

“And especially when you’re moaning for me.” he leaves small kisses on your jawline as his hips move against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your wetness. You’re so desperate to have him fuck you it’s almost impossible not to whine in annoyance. 

“I love when you moan. I want to hear more of it.” he says before he pushes himself into you.

“Oh,” you gasp, struggling to take him in.

“Fuck,” he lets go of your pinned hands and grabs your hips. 

“You son of a bitch,” you curse, your walls clenching down and welcoming him. You feel yourself throb around him, sucking him in as your hands wrap around his back. “You’re too big.” 

“You like it though,” he mumbles, pleasure taking over his body it’s becoming harder for him to speak clearly. He thrusts slowly, swearing to himself under his breath again. You moan as he fucks you more, your hands holding the back of his neck as he buries himself into you.

“I love it, it feels so good.” you moan, stroking his hair as his hips roll against you.

“I love you.” he tells you. 

“I love you.” he repeats, practically chanting it like it’s some sort of prayer.

He keeps whispering it into your ear, and you lift your hips, wrapping your legs around him as he continues to thrust into you. He glides in and out of you so easily it turns you on even more that he gets you so wet and ready so easily.

Your hands are busy exploring his smooth skin, feeling his neck and collarbone when he moans in your ear, his voice almost silent and pleading. 

“Choke me,” he begs. “L-Like you did the other day. Do it again.”

“What?”

“Please,” he breathes out, his eyes looking into yours, desperate and aroused. “I want your hands wrapped around my throat.”

You steadily place your hands on the side of his neck, careful not to block his airway. You squeeze the sides of his neck slightly, and as soon as you do, his eyes roll back in pleasure and his thrusts are harder. 

“Mmm,” he moans, biting down on his lips as he fucks into you. “Harder,” he demands.

The harder you choke him, the harder he fucks you. His moans grow louder and he’s practically chanting your name, begging you to destroy him as his thrusts grow haphazard the closer he gets to orgasming. 

He explodes, filling you up with so much cum it starts leaking out. But Zuko keeps going, desperate to make you finish as well. You’re no longer choking him, but your hands are instead messing up his hair and his lips are on your breasts, biting and sucking and kissing, you feel dizzy. 

His lips feel so good on your body. He leaves kisses and marks and words of his love and devotion for you it’s all so overwhelming. When he starts whispering to you how good your pussy feels and how much he loves you, it pushes you over the edge and you feel yourself clenching down on him hard as you reach your high.

When there’s nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths, all of a sudden you feel awkward. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you had been slowly falling for his stupid face and you were in denial about it this whole time.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Zuko hovers over your face, looking deeply into your eyes as if he’s trying to read you.

“Your stupid face.”

He chuckles, leaning down to brush his nose against yours before he leaves a small kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m in love with you.” he tells you.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Thank you.” you say awkwardly, because you’re not good with words and you’re too embarrassed to tell him that you’re also in love with him because you would probably cringe and feel even more awkward than you do right now. 

“So… you do have a thing for being choked!” you tease when you suddenly remember him asking you to choke him.

He tenses, his eyes widening as he suddenly pulls out of you and sits up. “No I don’t!”

“If I remember correctly, you asked me to choke you! Remember? You were practically begging—”

He leans down, quickly kissing you to shut up. “I don’t remember that. And tell me you love me back.” he demands.

“Admit you like being choked first.”

“No.”

“Fine, then I don’t love you. I still hate you.”

“Tell me you love me.” he demands again, unwilling to give up.

“Tell me you like being choked.” you fire back.

He’s quiet for a moment, and that’s when you know you’ve won. 

“Fine. I do like it, but don’t tell anyone!” he glares at you. “Now you say you love me.” 

“I hate you.” you tease.

“Whatever, I still love you.” Zuko rolls his eyes, leaning in to kiss you once more.

•••

a/n: i literally added in the part of zuko getting choked after seeing a tiktok on how to properly choke someone during sex 😂

m.list

[nanahachi3]

Private Lessons | Lee Heeseung

Taglist open: comment it or drop it on my anon box

Synopsis: Heaven was playing games with you because why the hell was your younger sister getting married so young? Here you were in the final year of college and had the worst break-up of your life because your ex thought that you were not sexually compatible with him. Your mother was after you to get married soon or at least have a new boyfriend, so you didn't have any option but to ask the freaky boy in your university for some private lessons to turn you from vanilla to the spice you were. And if things go right he may ends up being your date to your sister wedding.

Warning: fake dating trope, sex lessons, angst, fluff, parties, friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, fake marriage trope, arranged to love, Golden retriever Heeseung, nipple play, jealousy and possessive Heeseung, blow Job, pussy eating, inexperienced reader, fuckboi Heeseung.

Release date: I don't know yet

Word limit : 5k or 7k

[divinesolas]

hiii, how are you? I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. Where reader is Alicent’s firstborn daughter, and they were married in hopes to reconcile the family. Could you do newly married headcannons for them, sfw and nsfw. They don’t necessarily show their hate 24/7, they married out of duty, and for their families but they don’t get along or make efforts to get along, if that makes sense. More like a subtle enemies to lovers. If you can do this, it would be great. And I hope you have a wonderful day 😊😊😊

a/n: hiii i am great i hope youve been well. <3 TYSM FOR THE REQUEST !! sorry it took me a couple days to get too !! i went a little overboard sorry i just loved this rq sm !! <3 hope you enjoy !! (this is more of a fic in headcannon format :3)

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, slight enemies to lovers, slight baela/jaacerys romance for the drama, happy ending not bulleted, not proofread, avoided the use of y/n

You didn't hate jacaerys targaryen. No, you never had strong feelings about him. Even in your youth as you grew up you never thought much about him. If anything the most you had ever had is a slight resentment towards him for his treatment of aemond.

Your engagement had come as a surprise. Especially knowing how much your mother didn't care for rhaenyra or her family, especially her sons. But apparently rhaenyra and Alicent had a moment together and the two managed to come to an agreement for the sake of the family.

You couldn't gauge his reaction when he heard the news, he did not seem as shocked as you, leading you to believe he had already been informed. The two of you stared at each other and you could sense his annoyance. You've never had any bad blood so you don't understand what he could be so annoyed about until his eyes stray from you and you turn your head to where he's looking and notice he was looking at baela who also had a saddened look on her face but covered it up well. The two of you barely speak during the wedding prep.

The two of you actually argued quite a bit about the ceremony. You had wanted one more to your faith, the seven, while he was insistent that you had a traditional targaryen ceremony and for it to take place at driftmark.

“Of course you would want it at driftmark.” you scoff His head shoots up and he gives you a glare. “What could that possibility mean?”

“Nothing my dear i just find it funny that you of all people want a ceremony at driftmark. What sort of relation do you have there? Wouldn't a place like harrenhal suit you better”

His hands slam on the table and he stands his eyes never leaving yours as his face turns angry.

You can hear your mother scold you but you just laugh and keep a smile on your face. The meaning of your words are very clear to him but as he opens his mouth to speak his mother interrupts suggesting just to have two ceremonies.

You roll your eyes as he sits back down and agrees. The two of you continue to make sly remarks at one another to many, It would just look like friends poking fun at one another but the two of you knew that you two could barely stand each other. It was easy enough to fool the public into thinking the two of you had been a love match. Especially since they had no clue the two of you did not speak outside of public appearances.

Your wedding was magical, without any of the magic. You would have two ceremonies, one of the more intimate traditional Targaryen ceremony and one longer three day ceremony for the faith. you ended up having the targaryen ceremony first. It was a very small ceremony with only your family there.

Even though you held no feelings towards the velaryon boy there's something so intimate about the tradition ceremony that it had even your heart skipping.

you couldn't tell if he felt the same, he had a clearly fake pleased look but you did notice he did not spare baela one glance but instead had spent that night dancing with you.

you two decided not to consummate the marriage that night much to your relief, and would wait till your other wedding night. The public had no clue the two of you were already married, during your wedding feast many would come up to you and spare their congratulations and provide a gift.

You and jacaerys sat at the head of the table. The night had been going fine until one particular lord came up and started saying some inappropriate comments about you.

You began to shrink in your seat and could not find a voice to say anything yet you did not have to as jacaerys was quick to shut him down, his tone had changed much from his kinder tone earlier while regarding guests.

He had laced his land with yours and quickly shooed him away. He had turned to you and asked you if you were alright and all you could do was nod. jacaerys keeps his hand laced with yours the whole night. Despite the fact the two of you are still at odds you find comfort with his warm hand in yours.

The next day was the tourney. You knew jacaerys was going to be competing. No one dared to ask you for your favor. When jacaerys finally was announced he immediately strolled over to the royal box where you had been sitting, “your favor my love?”

After you had reached out and tied it around his sword he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back before riding away. When your wedding rolled around it had once again been a pleasant ceremony. A part of you which you didn't want to acknowledge felt as though there was a small smile on Jace's face when the two of you kissed. The celebration afterwards has also been nice but a part of you felt dread as you realized the bedding ceremony had been right around the corner. Jacaerys had noticed at some point during the festivities you had been upset, “are you alright?”

You didn't want to mention it so you just nodded my head and didn't turn to face him. You could feel his stare and when you didnt turn towards him he sighed. “If you hold any worries about the bedding ceremony, put them to rest. I have already insisted it is not necessary.” You whip your head towards him in shock but he had turned away from you and was staring at the crowd drinking from his chalice. “You did?”

“Of course, there is no reason to. Though the maesters were insistent they checked you afterwards. I had attempted to avoid that as well but they were persistent.” “Why?”

His face scrunched as if he had been confused about your question. “You did not want to do it. Did you?” Your head begins to hurt as you think about the fact he had put in all the extra effort to make sure you did not have to do something you did not want to.

The two of you decided to call it a night and you attempted to ignore your brothers yells of encouragement as you quickly exited the room. You had arrived at your chambers first and were quickly stripped out of your extravagant dress by some maids and the pit in your stomach continued to grow.

There was no way jacaerys would be a cruel lover. Sure the two of you did not get along most of the time but you felt he had been kind to you today and the last couple days. Lost in your thoughts you barely noticed as jacaerys walked into the room still in his formal wear and dismissed all the maids. You stood up to face him and suddenly it became alarmingly clear to you that you two were alone in this room while he was fully dressed and you were wearing a plain white nightgown. No words are spoken between the two of you as you stare as he begins to remove his formal wear. “I am sorry.”

His back is turned to you as he removes his coat and you watch as he freezes “what for?” “This whole marriage. You clearly did not want this and I am sorry you are being forced into this. Maybe I do not want it as well but it must feel worse for you.”

Your head had fallen to the floor as you went on. His hand grabbed your chin and he forced you to lock eyes with him. He had a relaxed face as he gave you a concerned look. “It is our duty you must be upset about it as well. Why would it be worse for me?”

“I assumed you had relations with baela..” you trail off and try to look away but his grip immediately pulls you back. “I promise you I shall never be unfaithful if that is your worry. You are my wife. I could not imagine disrespecting you that way.” It is clear to you he does not deny the fact he has feelings for her but you choose to ignore this fact as he leans in and kisses you. It becomes painfully obvious to the two of you that you are both terribly inexperienced He leads you over to the bed as you gasp as you fall back onto the bed

He is a very kind lover though it was very obvious to him he struggled to know what to do His fingers were clumsy as he attempted to prep you (which you did not expect as your mother told you he would just stick it in) But once he got to the rhythm of it he was very good and soon enough you had your first come. “Are you sure you've never done this nephew?” He laughs and shakes his head, “never dear auntie though i did read up on it.”

He kisses down your neck as he slips off your dress Lost in the feeling you barely noticed that he had slipped off his trousers he was still wearing and was fully nude You would say he has a nice dick but you've never seen another one so you have nothing to compare it to You fight the urge to reach out and grab it He clumsily lines himself up and it hurts.

He presses kisses all over your face in an attempt to calm you down and waits for you to give him the okay before he begins to move. Your mother had spent the last week tell you to be prepared to just lay there and take it and you would find no enjoyment at all but in this exact moment you had no clue what she was talking about You had never felt this amazing in your life, he was kissing you as one of his hands was playing with your clit and another one was locked with yours next to your head.

He was slow, not the rough and hard pace you had been expecting. He valued your pleasure just as much if not more than his own. He was also much more vocal that you had expected, your mother told you men do not make much noise but as he laid his head right next to your ear you could hear ever groan and whine leave his lips He encouraged you to come first before he spilled himself inside you. When he got up soon after you felt a chill, your mother did say men did just quickly leave as soon as they were done. To your surprise all he had done was get up to alert the maids to draw a bath for you.

This however alerts the maester and your mother who comes running in, your mother obviously concerned when she sees you but you reassure her you are fine. Jaacerys was nowhere to be seen and did not return til you were already asleep. You had expected the two of you to have a better relationship after the last couple days have been nice but jacaerys has a very sudden shift in attitude and is back to his sly remarks. A part of you feels sick as if the last couple days had just been a ruse to not have to force you to bed him and he was just like all men. Even when he comes back to bed you he is certainly not as nice as the first time.

“Jaacerys must be rather upset these days.” your brother aemond says over tea one morning “However, would you know that?” “Baela has been betrothed to one of arryns.” Now it has made sense to you and you find yourself seething with anger.

When he comes to join the two of you for tea you quickly make some excuse and rush away ignoring jacaerys confused look as he looks after you. The next couple days follow a similar routine. He is up before you and you pretend to oversleep so you miss breakfast with him, you busy yourself with other activities and avoid even being in the same room as him and when he tried to see you before bed you were already pretending to sleep. After the third day of this you hear him sigh as he sees you in bed already.

That next morning you expect things to go a similar way as the last couple had but were shocked to see jacaerys there instead of aemond who you were supposed to have tea with. “Jacaerys.” “Sit” “I'm supposed to be meeting with aemond-” “And you're meeting with me instead. Sit.” You begrudgingly sit and speak no words as he pours you a cup and you wordlessly take a sip. “You have nothing to say?” “Should i?”

He rolls his eyes, “we have not spoken in many a moon.” “I have been busy.” He scoffs, “busy with what?” You grow angry at his tone, “I apologize my prince but just because some of us aren't crowned princes that does not mean the things we spend our days doing are unimportant.” His face immediately drops as he rubs his hands over his face, “I am sorry, my lady, I didn't mean it like that.” You say nothing just look off to the side “I have just missed you.”

You laugh and his face grows angry once more, “what's that?” “Are you sure it's me you miss?” “Whatever does that mean.” You continue to laugh, “surely it must be your dear baela you miss not i. I heard she is to be married off.” His face turns confused, “what does baela have anything to do with this?”

“She is the reason you are upset, no? Why have you been upset?” He sighs and puts his head in his head. “No, I mean yes but no.” “What does that mean?” “I am not upset that she is betrothed.” You keep silent as he continues, “i thought we were meant to be ever since i was a young kid and i do admit that i was more than angry when i had been informed i would be marrying you and even angrier when we continued to argue but after a while i realized that i had enjoyed your company more and more, especially after our wedding.” A light blush dusts his face, “and when i heard the news of baelas betrothal i had expected myself to be filled with rage but i felt nothing. And that terrified me. The only thing I could think about was you.”

“I avoided being short tempered and nasty with you so I apologize but these couple days without speaking to you have been tortuous. I have come to realize I need you.” You are frozen as a warm feeling fills you, you can tell by the look on his face he means every word. “I love you jacaerys.” “And I love you my beloved.”

[loveschoice-if]

DEMO COMING SOON...

A once-in-a-lifetime love... Loading...

You have been a faithful employee at Hanwool Group for about nine years, working diligently as the secretary to the current Vice President of Marketing, Park Joo-Seok. Although the world knows him as the future CEO of Hanwool Group and the most eligible bachelor in South Korea, you know him better as your arrogant and workaholic boss.

Now that you have paid off all of your outstanding debts, nothing is holding you back from quitting your job and maybe even starting a whole new life. Just as you're about to hand in your resignation letter, however, your chaebol boss comes to you with an unexpected proposition.

“Marry me.”

??!! Is he being serious? Will you accept his (albeit not super romantic) proposal?? What will happen next?! Play to find out!

Planned Features

Play as the female lead of your very own romance K-drama!

Experience many tropes from the wonderful world of K-dramas (or skillfully avoid them, it's up to you!)

Choose between four different routes, each with its own unique storyline, sub-genre, Male Lead™, Villains, and more!

Fall in love at your own pace, perfect for slow-burn and fast-burn lovers alike!

Will you follow the script to your perfect happy ending, or stumble into a tragic one?

The Male Leads™

The Boss

Name: Park Joo-Seok (박주석) Age: 32 Job: Vice President of Hanwool Group's Marketing Division

Pressured by his wealthy family to get married and take over the family business, but also feeling no desire to fall in love anytime soon, he turns to his loyal secretary of nine years (and the only woman he can trust) for help: you. All you need to do is enter a contract marriage with him and convince his family and the press that the two of you are truly in love. Can you successfully pull off this charade without catching feelings?

Inspired by What's Wrong With Secretary Kim?, Business Proposal, and Secret Life of My Secretary.

Tropes: office romance, contract marriage, fake relationship, rich man x poor woman

The Idol

Name: Yoo Jae-min (유재민) Age: 28 Job: Idol in the K-Pop industry, represented by X Entertainment

After turning down your boss' marriage proposal, he assigns you to work on a current marketing project involving one of the biggest stars in the K-pop industry, Yoo Jae-min. Previously known as the cutest member of the former boy group, NOVA, he is now a successful solo artist with a face card that never declines. But don't be fooled by his adorable on-screen persona. For whatever reason, he seems to have a personal vendetta against you. Can you successfully work alongside him without letting tensions boil over?

Inspired by So I Married My Anti-Fan, Sh**ting Stars, Lovely Runner, and Moon In The Day.

Tropes: idol romance, enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love, secret relationship

The Childhood Best Friend

Name: Lee Hae-jin (이해진) Age: 29 Job: Doctor, specifically a General Practitioner (GP)

After turning down your boss' marriage proposal and quitting your job, you decide to leave the high-paced corporate life and move back to your hometown on the coast. Turns out, you weren't the only one who had this idea. Once a successful doctor at one of the best hospitals in Seoul, your childhood best friend, Lee Hae-jin, now lives across the street from your grandmother's old place, where you are now staying. The thing is, you haven't spoken to him in over a decade, ever since your grandmother died. Will you break the ice and rekindle this old friendship, or is the past too painful to face?

Inspired by Summer Strike, Hometown Cha Cha Cha, and Welcome to Samdalri.

Tropes: friends-to-lovers, childhood meeting, second-chance romance, first love

The Grim Reaper

Name: Reaper Kim/Kim Saja (김사자)/??? Age: ???? Job: ...the Grim Reaper

You've turned down your boss' marriage proposal, and quit your secretary job after nine years of dedicated hard work. Now what? You find yourself sitting on the roof of a building, and you slip on something. Just as you're about to fall to a certain death, some person grabs you and pulls you back onto the roof. But this is no ordinary person. There's something oddly supernatural about him and a familiarity you can't quite place. He wants to strike a deal with you. What exactly is his agenda, and will you agree to his terms?

Inspired by Doom at Your Service, Goblin, and My Demon.

Tropes: supernatural being x mortal, doomed love, reincarnation, fated love, amnesia

Anticipated FAQs

Is MC gender-locked female & are the main love interests gender-locked male?

Currently, yes. Right now, it's just easier for me to write if I have consistent variables and characters in my head. It also helps me focus on just finishing the stories because I want to make sure each route gets the attention it deserves. Rest assured, I WILL introduce more gender options for both the MC and the main love interests, and it will be something I keep in mind as I'm writing!

How long is this game going to take to complete?

Unfortunately, it's probably going to take a really long time. This is one of the most ambitious writing projects I've done and life is unpredictable but I will do my best!

Are there more love interests/routes planned?

Um... is four not enough for you?! LOL just kidding! Right now, I just have four love interests/routes that are generally fleshed out. I'm very open to suggestions, so let me know if there is another type of love interest/sub-genre that you want to see represented!

Note: I will update this section as I get more questions :)

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who joined in this year; there was a total of 236 fics this year which is a great result! Remember to kudo and comment where you can and show our authors some love ♥

Day 1 | Angst with Happy Ending Day 2 | Idiots in Love Day 3 | Friends to Lovers Day 4 | Hurt/Comfort Day 5 | Touch-Starved Day 6 | Canon Divergent Day 7 | Bed Sharing Day 8 | Fake Married for a Case Day 9 | Empty Rescue Day 10 | Wing Fic Day 11 | Enemies to Lovers Day 12 | Fake Dating Day 13 | Case Fic Day 14 | Soulmates Day 15 | Witch Magic or Curses Day 16 | Secret Relationship Day 17 | Roommates Day 18 | Amnesia Day 19 | Two-Person Love Triangle Day 20 | Canon Compliant Day 21 | Cowboy!AU/Ranch Day 22 | Omegaverse Day 23 | Established Relationship Day 24 | Fluff Day 25 | Firsts Day 26 | BDSM Day 27 | Single parent AU Day 28 | Coffee Shop AU Day 29 | Murder Husbands Day 30 | Whump Day 31 | Cabin Fic

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.