#i have no clue what this means and refuse to figure it out

[immortalratking]

had a dream I tried to fuck a friend

[dreamsontheirway]

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

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[litfiction]

oneshot stolen charger 🪫

pairing — paige bueckers x fem!reader

content & warnings — "arguing because paige stole your charger" , only playful arguing!

word count: 1k , notes @ the end (something fun!)

“Has anyone seen my charger?” You walked into your living room where some of your and Paige’s friends were gathered. Most people shook their heads no, some replying out loud. You sighed. Your phone was down to 5% and starting to lag.

You had felt around for it on your bed when the 20% battery warning popped up in the middle of watching your show but left it when you couldn’t find it. 20% was okay for now. When you got the 10% warning you felt around more thoroughly, even checking under your bed thinking maybe it had fallen when you moved around to get comfortable.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t there. Frustration started to set in when you searched all over your room to no avail, your phone battery quickly draining to 8%.

It wasn’t on your nightstand, it hadn’t been plugged into the outlet at your desk. You vividly remember taking it back to your room after charging your phone in the bathroom to let it play your music while you showered earlier.

After going out to your dorm’s common area you searched the outlets behind couches and through the clutter on the kitchen counters which showed no results. Literally where could it possibly be?

It’s not like your charger has legs and skedaddled off when you needed it.

Or maybe it’s just really good at hide and seek because now your phone was at 3% and you still have no clue where your damn charger could be. You’ve looked in all the obvious places.

Well, maybe except for one.

You quickly pace towards Paige’s door, leaning close to it to hear what she was doing inside before knocking. “Come in,” the blonde’s voice came a moment later.

You opened the door to see KK and Jana scrolling on KK’s phone. Your figure had appeared in the background and they had seen this, gesturing you over to show you off to the live.

“Hey girl! The live wants to see you,” KK smiled brightly. You momentarily forget about the search for your runaway phone charger to greet the people on KK’s live.

You squeeze between KK and Jana so that you’re all in frame before waving and saying hi quickly before turning to the girls on your sides to ask them if they’ve seen your charger.

Jana shakes her head no, followed by KK’s “Negative”.

“Seriously? I’ve been looking for like 10 minutes!” You sigh, exasperatedly.

The people in the live chat laughing at your frustration, some empathizing with your pain. You looked down and your phone was down to 1%. It was a losing battle and you’d just let it die at this point.

Doesn’t mean you don’t still need your charger.

You stand up straight from your bent position between Jana and KK, your face being cropped out of frame. Your head swivels to look at Paige and ask her if she’s seen the cord.

She’s sitting up on her bed, legs stretched out with one crossed over the other, her back against the wall. She wasn’t paying attention, her eyes glued to her phone, occasionally laughing quietly at something funny she happens to see while scrolling.

Your eyes meet her figure before flicking to what’s in her hand. Her phone, on charge, using your charger. The very thing you’ve been looking for for almost 15 minutes by this point.

“Paige!” You demand. She looks up from her phone to look at you, her expression calm but confused. “Yes?” She responds obliviously. “You stole my charger!”

She looks back down and then drags her gaze back up to you with a sheepish smile. “Give it back!” You demand again, putting your hand out for her to return your charger. She shakes her head immediately. “No! I’m using it now!” Paige retorts. You groan, “You always do this! You always steal my stuff and then refuse to give it back to me when I ask for it back!”

“Ok first of all, you didn’t ask, you demanded. Second, you can’t just wait until I’m done using it?” She questions you like she’s the one in the right. You glare at her. “I demanded it because you stole it, and no, I can’t wait this time because my phone is dead and I just wanna watch my show!”

By this point, KK and Jana (and even some people in the living room) aren’t paying attention to what they’re doing. Even the live was invested in this argument. KK was quietly snickering while Jana just watched this unfold.

“C’monnnn,” Paige whined. “Just give me 5 more minutes!”

You shook your head adamantly. “No Paige, I need my charger now.”

“How did you even get it? I had it in my room. And why? You have your own charger, Paige, do you not?” You deadpanned.

Paige just shrugs at you. “Aubrey needed a charger so I offered her mine but then I needed to charge but Aubrey wasn’t at a good enough percentage so I took yours. I just grabbed it from your nightstand while you were in the bathroom.”

You roll your eyes. Of course she had. “Ok well, time’s up! Hand it over.” She makes puppy dog eyes at you, making you roll your eyes at her again. “That hasn’t worked for you before, it won’t work now.”

She leans her head back against the wall and sighs before unplugging the base of your charger from her wall and crawling on her bed towards where you stood at the edge of it to place the cord in your outstretched hand.

You shoot her a sarcastic smile before thanking her and walking back out to your bedroom. Finally, you can watch your show in peace.

You enter your room and head to your closet to grab your favorite sweater.

But when you open your closet doors expecting to see the fluffy bundle sitting in an organizer just at eye level, it wasn’t there.

Then you register what Paige had been lounging in.

You were too busy to notice it hanging off her shoulders. You throw your head back exasperatedly then yell towards her door. And you swear you hear her snicker with KK.

🔖 — i feel somewhat ashamed that this is the longest work i have on here.. also hi again! i haven't written in a bit because i haven't had any ideas :( my requests are open if anyone wants to send something in! anyway, this is day one of something i've decided to try! for july i'm gonna pick a prompt from a list i have and write something based on that! i didn't take the list from anywhere i just made it myself. i wanted to do this to just write more and push myself to write stuff with creative freedom since a lot of prompts are quite vague. but yeah! that's my update, sorry this so long oops. hope this was entertaining to some degree, thank you for reading!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?

Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3

Part l to this fic can be found here

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife

Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3

„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.

“Did you just see that?”

“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.

“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.

“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”

Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.

“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.

All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.

“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.

“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”

“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”

Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.

“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.

Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.

“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.

You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.

“Yeah, like being married for example!”

“Maybe I am, who knows?”

Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.

“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.

“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”

“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.

“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”

“So you want to know what this ring means?”

Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.

“Please tell me!”

Let’s see what happens.

“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”

Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.

“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.

Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?

“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.

“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.

Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.

Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?

“I am muscular!”, he cries out.

“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”

If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?

“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.

Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?

“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”

He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.

“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.

Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.

“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.

“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.

Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?

“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“

“I AM MUSCULAR!”

You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.

“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.

“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.

“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.

Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.

“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.

“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.

You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.

-in the evening-

“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.

“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”

That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.

“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.

Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.

“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”

“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”

[cobaltperun]

Congrats on the 500 ❤️ just want to give you a request of a Tara x reader no ghostface au of basically Tara being this popular and reader being this nerd and how reader is madly in love with her but Tara is afraid to be with someone who isn't popular so she ignores reader until reader starts getting attention from another popular person(had no clue where to take it from there)

Miss Popular

Tara Carpenter x GN Reader (Request)

Masterlist

Combined with this request.

Word count: 1.5k

It was never going to work out in your favor. A nerd catching the eye of one of the most popular girls in the school? Tara Carpenter was charming, smart, beautiful, she could get anyone to like her with her kindness. It didn’t matter who you were, as long as you were a good person in her eyes, she would be pleasant with you, listening attentively and making sure no one felt alone.

The two of you talked occasionally and you slowly learnt things about her, that she didn’t want anyone to feel alone because she oftentimes felt alone in her own home. So, she decided she’d never make anyone feel like they were alone if they were in her company.

And you fell in love even harder than before. Her compassion, empathy, everything about her won you over and you were absolutely head over heels in love with her. But that love was impossible in your eyes. You weren’t a part of the same friend group, you only started talking because you happened to do a project together. And there was the main issue.

You were…

A nerd.

A quintessential book-loving, movie-watching, anime-enjoying, no-good-at-sports, introvert-still-waiting-for-an-extrovert-to-adopt-you, nerd.

Asking Tara Carpenter out on a date felt as daunting as writing an essay on a four hundred pages long book was to someone who despised reading. And unlike with the second group, there was no summary online to help you ‘write your essay’.

~X~

You were being incredibly weird these past few days, avoiding even an accidental glance and flinching whenever your eyes would accidentally meet. And Tara was genuinely getting worried, because she couldn’t figure out what she did to save her life.

She would have walked up to you, asked you plain and simple what she did wrong because knowing that she did something and not knowing what it was was killing her! Tara couldn’t do it though, she was afraid. She was a popular girl, on the outside. The truth was she just got lucky after years of being bullied. Mindy took a liking to her and since then she was a part of the popular group, eventually gaining ‘popularity’ herself. It was a fleeting popularity, one that would crumble and turn to dust if she acted on her feelings toward you.

Perhaps it was a selfish desire, but she hoped she’d get a chance someday, after the two of you were out of high school, preferably out of Woodsboro, preferably at a place that didn’t care about who was popular and who was a nerd. Or perhaps she would finally say ‘fuck it’ and forget about what other people said or did.

She would leave that to her future self, surviving high school was her top priority.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she missed you approaching and biting your lip with your hands trembling in your pockets and foot nervously tapping on the ground while Tara was waiting for her friends to meet up with her.

“Hey, Tara,” you uttered, your voice cracking adorably and she sat up straighter, a bit startled by you finally approaching her.

“Y/N,” she smiled at you, happy to see you, another positive of her smiling at you was that it seemed to help you with your nerves as well. It always did, anyway, but from the looks of it it had the opposite effect this time.

“I was, uh, you see,” you refused to look at her and she could only raise and eyebrow at how much you were fidgeting. “Wouldyougooutwithme?”

“Huh?” she really didn’t understand one word you just said.

You took a deep breath. “Would you. I mean, if it doesn’t sound like a waste, no that isn’t… could you, maybe, no hard feelings if you don’t want to, just consider, like, just for a moment think about it. It, uh, being, going out with, or rather just maybe getting a, you know, a drink, and I don’t mean alcohol, just like, water, coffee, tea, juice, something you like, with me?” you still said it really quickly, fumbling over words and looking anywhere but at her.

Tara blushed, her heart beating rapidly as she watched you. You, clumsily, and in the most adorable way she ever experienced, asked her out and her heart said yes. Her heart absolutely said yes! You could go to another town, you could hide it, she was sure you’d understand. “I-“

“Tara!” just before she could answer she heard Amber calling her name and turned to see the girl approaching the two of you quickly.

“I actually like someone else,” Tara whispered, and if only you looked her in the eyes, you would have seen the regret she felt.

You froze and Tara’s heart shattered, you looked like you expected it. “I see, of course, good luck. I’ll see you around,” you forced a smile, staying strong despite the rejection. And she watched you leave, cursing her inability to go after you.

“What was that about?” Amber asked, looking at your back in a condescending way. Even if she was sure Mindy or Chad wouldn’t mind that she liked you, in fact Mindy knew it, Amber would turn the school against her, because in Amber’s mind those that were popular shouldn’t spend time with nerds unless it was to get better grades.

“Nothing,” Tara muttered, not noticing the slight smirk on Amber’s face.

~X~

You didn’t cry over the rejection, you understood, though it did hurt. In fact, you were thankful to Tara for being fairly gentle and to the point about it. You figured she might have been gentler, offering a word of comfort or two, if Amber didn’t come right at that moment.

It didn’t change the fact that she liked someone else. And of course she did.

She had so many friends, so many people around her that the idea of her noticing you of all people was truly ridiculous. You were still happy you tried, even if it meant you wouldn’t be able to face Tara again for the rest of the school year.

At least it wouldn’t be too long. Only several months left and then you’d be leaving Woodsboro anyway.

Still, despite all your thoughts, all the reasons and logic you tried to call upon your heart still ached, you still hoped, deep down, for a different outcome.

“Hello, Y/N,” Amber came up to you in the school cafeteria and you looked up, surprised that she even knew your name, let alone addressed you.

Amber was, by far, the most popular student in the school. Attractive, confident, even arrogant if you were being honest. Being part of Amber’s group meant being at the top of the stupid school hierarchy.

“Hello,” you had no idea what she could possibly want with you.

As introverted as you were you didn’t really know about a certain habit of hers.

~X~

Tara was seething, anger rising within her as she watched Amber talking to you, clearly flirting. She wasn’t just jealous, she knew exactly what Amber was up to, and she was furious that you would be Amber’s target just because she probably figured something out yesterday.

So, before Mindy or any of her other friends could question her, she got up and stomped over to you, grabbed Amber’s forearm and pulled her away, determined look on her face as she dragged her to the corner to avoid attention from other students, not that it worked. Nearly everyone was already looking at the two of them.

“Easy there, Tara,” Amber laughed, more amused than anything right now.

“What are you trying to do Amber?” Tara demanded, looking right into her eyes.

Amber shrugged. “Just messing around, having fun,” she didn’t even try to hide it and Tara had enough. You were too good, too kind, to be another one of Amber’s ways to pass time.

It no longer mattered that Amber would turn students against her, that she could get bullied again. She just went and slapped Amber. “Not with Y/N, you hear me,” she warned ignoring the gasps and covered mouths and while Amber stood there, recovering from the sting of the slap and more importantly her shock, Tara approached you.

“Tara?” you were confused as she sat down, right next to you, your thighs touching and Tara intertwined your fingers together.

“I would love to go out with you. I’m sorry I rejected you yesterday,” she was probably as red as tomato, but you laughed lightly and squeezed her hand tighter.

“Thank you, I promise you won’t regret it,” you didn’t have to say or promise that, she knew she wouldn’t regret it. Come hell or high water, she would never regret this.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 5

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, rollercoaster of emotions, sadness, therapy/counseling, violence and abuse (talk of y/n past relationship)

Read Part 1 for author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

When it came time for your next therapy session with the chaplain, you were nervous. It was the first individual session you were attending, and god did you want to throw up from the anxiety.

Simon had asked you several time in the days leading up to the appointment what day and time were you had to go, but you refused to tell him. You didn't want him to be there when you went in... but somehow you knew he would figure it out anyway.

You weren't surprised when you walked in the building and saw him standing there waiting in the lobby. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as she walked up to you like a skiddish cat.

"What? Think I wasn't gonna show or something?" you bitterly asked.

"No. Just wanna make sure you didn't have any issues getting here."

Issues getting here. You weren't stupid.... well maybe staying with him you might have been.... but you knew your husband. The issues that he meant was if nobody bothered you. But it went deeper than that.

Simon began noticing your new clothes the day after you bought them. He came home from work before you, so when your feet walked through the front door of the apartment, he immediately heard the soft clicks of your heels on the hardwood floor before you took them off. His head turned as you walked past the living room, offering a brief hello before continuing into the bedroom. He saw your outfit, and he found himself swallowing the lump in this throat.

He was a soldier after all - an SAS soldier at that. He was trained to pick up on things.. and he certainly picked up on the change in your wardrobe. He also picked up on the makeup you wore. You'd gone from wearing barely any to having smokey eyes with a dark lip color every time you left the house. He was afraid to admit it, but he was worried. For all he knew, you might have started seeing someone at work, and he wouldn't have a clue who it was. It wasn't like he met your coworkers before, other than Ava.

So that's why he stood there, waiting for you to arrive at your session. He would have broken a man's jaw if he found them eyeing his wife like she was a piece of meat... especially because of what you had on too.

"I didn't," you sighed, making your way to walk past him.

Before you could, he stopped you, gently grabbing your hand and lightly squeezing it, "Let me know when you're done yeah?"

You nodded, pulling your hand away before walking down the hall to Lt. Jones's office.

Therapy.... something that made you feel queasy when you thought about it. But there you were, sitting on the couch in the man's office as he wrote notes about the previous topic you spoke on - your childhood. It wasn't that interesting, certainly not worthy of discussing, you thought, but according to him, it was important.

"Can we talk a little bit about your previous relationship? Before your husband?" He asked.

The way you paused and tensed, Jones knew he hit a sore spot. But it had to be done. His soft gaze remained on you as you looked at everything but him. The floor, the wedding ring on your finger, the ceiling, the wall.... anything. But when he continued to give you time, you let out a shaky sigh before nodding.

"What do you want to know?" you asked.

"Whatever you're comfortable with.... but how about you tell me how you found out that he cheated yeah?"

Shit.

You closed your eyes, thinking back to that time in your life when everything felt confusing. When you didn't even know if you'd make it to the next day.

"I-I went through his phone," you started, "I didn't mean to, though. I was plugging it in to charge, and a text came through from some girl saying she had a great time with him," Nervously rubbing your hands on your pants, the chaplain encouraged you to take breaks if you needed, but you shook your head "I was curious... so I opened the phone and that's when I saw the messages."

Jones wrote in his notepad before looking back at you, "Then what happened?"

"I woke him up... he was taking a nap. But I woke him up. I started screaming at him and showing him the messages," You opened your eyes, tears forming, "My ex was a dick... didn't care about anything in life except for himself. He did drugs. Hard drugs. And it was toxic.. our relationship. I should have seen the signs in the beginning... but.. I didn't. When I woke him up, I didn't think things would get so bad, but they did. He didn't even think twice before he punched me.... I just remember falling to the ground before he kneeled over me and punched me over and over. Next thing I knew..... I woke up in the ER."

You wanted to tell the chaplain to not look at you the way he did. The sad look in his eyes. The pity. Even if he was remaining professional, he couldn't hide the fact that he felt sorry for you to have gone through what you did. And by the look on your face as you kept trying to fight back the tears, he knew what his next question had to be.

"And you stayed with him after that... didn't you?"

A choked sob left your throat as you put your head in your hands, "Y-yes. I had nowhere to go. I didn't have anyone I could turn to. So I stayed.... I stayed until I saved up enough money to get the fuck out of there."

By now, Jones had removed his eyeglasses from his face and set them down on the table next to him. "It's why you're afraid to stay with him isn't it?"

Goddamn he was reading you like an open book. Even though it was his job to do so.

"Yes," you sniffled, "But I know.. I know he won't hurt me. I know that. But I can't help but be afraid... I can't help but think about my ex and what I went through."

A moment went by as Jones wrote more in his notepad before he spoke, "Mrs. Riley... I know it's terrifying to feel like the past will come back again to you. But I don't think that's the case here." You wanted to believe him, you really did. But it was scary to think that. "I'll see both of you in a couple of days. I want you to think about everything that you've told me today... but I also want you to think about everything I've said yeah?"

You nodded as you tried to wipe your face with the tissues he'd given you before the session started. After pulling yourself together a bit more, you left out of his office and made your way to the exit. A part of you thought Simon would have waited in the lobby for you to be finished, but you were relieved to find the place empty. When you got to your car, you sent a quick text to Ava telling her you were on your way to work. You thought about texting Simon as well, but you decided to do it when you got to work... eliminating the opportunity for him to ask you any further questions.

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

Simon was a nervous wreck.. so were you, rightfully so. The last couple of days had you both on edge. Neither one of you talked about your individual sessions when you saw each other at home. He thought about asking you, he wanted to so bad. But Lt. Jones gave him his homework - don't bother you about the session. Give you the space you need in the house. That worried your husband so much he hadn't slept hardly in the past 48 hours.

Even though Pvt. Williams was now gone, he still had to stay at work a bit late at times.. especially the past two days, as Taskforce 141 was gearing up to go on another mission soon. When he came home, you were fast asleep.. thankfully in the bed. He would stare at you, thinking about everything. He did that a lot.. more so after his individual session. He thought about when he first met you, about when he asked you to marry him, even about when he kissed you the first time.

But he also thought about how now every time you looked at him, he could see the puffiness in your eyes. He thought about how you were starting to change right in front of him... the outfits becoming more..... sexy? Revealing? He couldn't figure out the word for it. But while he loved the way you dressed... he wanted to know why you changed. Well, no... he knew why. He fucking knew why you were changing. But he didn't want you to stray away from him, as selfish as that was.

Once more, you fidgeted on the couch while Simon sat up straight on his side of it. Lt. Jones wrote a few lines in his notepad before he straightened his eyeglasses and glanced towards both of you. "Thank you for being here. It's about the stepping stones yeah?" He grinned. He was trying to ease the tension, and it worked... a little. "Today... let's discuss the word why."

Oh no.

Why?

"What'd y'mean?" Simon asked first.

The chaplain cleared his throat, "I want you to tell each other why... Lieutenant.. your wife deserves to know why you cheated on her. Why you didn't tell her-" he turned his attention to you, "-Mrs. Riley, if you can... let him speak. Get everything out in the open."

That word... why. It was about to send into a panic attack.

It felt like an eternity before Simon said anything. Before he told you the full story. You grabbed the box of tissues before he was even halfway into it, and god, did you break down in tears. Simon tried to reach out to you, but you weakly slapped his hands away, ushering the chaplain to command that he didn't try to touch you again. So he continued... leading up to the point where he explained - in so many words - about how sex with her was different than it was with you.

And fuck was that the last straw.

"You never even asked me if I would be into that Simon!" you yelled.

"Mrs. Riley-" Lt. Jones tried to stop you, but you didn't.

"You fucked her again and again because she like it rough? You never even asked me to try it with you! You wanted to take out your frustrations... why not with me? I-I'm your wife, Simon! I can be your slut, too... anytime you want it. How you want it. You-" a choked sob escaped, "-you never even tried to talk to me about it. About anything."

Simon's eyes widened a little at the realization of how truly fucked up he had become. The chaplain's eyes - while somewhat remaining unfazed - he felt just a tad bit awkward at your choice of words in response to why your husband had cheated on you. "Let's come back to that later yeah?" He quickly changed the topic. "Mrs. Riley... can you tell your husband why you are having this battle between your thoughts of divorcing him and staying with him."

Crying still, you tried to get the words out as best as you could, "B-because I'm a fucking idiot. I should leave... but no.. I-I want to work on my marriage like-like an fucking idiot. We need to get a divorce."

"No," Simon jumped in. "Love, please-"

"I can't do this," you cried.

Before you tried standing up from the couch, the chaplain asked you to sit; to work through your feelings before letting them control you. Simon watched you with tearful eyes as you tried to calm down, but he was on the verge of breaking down himself.

By the time the session came to an end, you two left with more homework to do - think of a special moment in your marriage and you'd talk about it the next time you met Jones individually. You tried to run out of there, but of course, Simon pulled you into a secluded area, trapping you between him and the wall as he looked at your red eyes.

"Simon, I have to go to work."

"Love, listen to me... I'm so fuckin' sorry," he said, voice cracking a little.

That made you stare into his dark eyes, seeing the redness in them as he stared back into yours. Simon hardly cried, you had only seem him look sad.. but never cry; truly cry. Yet you caught the lone tear fall from his eye before disappearing behind his mask.

You tried to leave, "I can't do this."

"I should have talked to you. I should have told you how I felt-"

"But you didn't," you cut him off. "Why are we doing this? Why won't you divorce me? You can be happy with her-"

He didn't even let you finish that thought, "I want you. Only you." he retorted, voice thick with anger and desperation, "She's gone. I made sure of that. I don't want a divorce from you."

"What do you mean she's gone?" your eyebrows drawing together.

He sighed, "I got her transferred out. You.. nor me... will ever see her again."

His words weren't making any sense, yet all the sense in the world. He got her to leave? For you? For your marriage?

"Why?" you whispered.

"Because I wanna make this right sweetheart. You're the only woman I want. God I know it sounds like I'm lying, but I mean it."

Torn. That's what you were. Torn between believing him and wanting to get away from him.

"I have to get to work Simon. We can talk about this later," you said.

He didn't want to, but he stepped back allowing you to leave him standing there staring at the wall. He could only hope that you'd want to talk about it when he got off work.

I just want to say THANK YOU to all the likes, comments, and messages! I'm so glad you all are enjoying my story. I know it's a sad one :(

Taglist: @kalypsoox @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991

[ririblogsss]

Ok so I've read that OCD, can be a by product of trauma.

So what if Danny doesn't relize he is deeply traumatized by the events that happened in his early childhood. By that I mean with all the weapons and chemicals spills around his house and of course his untimely death.

He noticed that his home has no order whatsoever and that's what made it dangerous to live in. He only found comfort in his own room because it was the only space the could truly control, and make sure it was safe.

He started associating organization and cleanliness with safety and security. He has underling fear of coming into contact with contaminants, and that it will bring his whole world to collapse if he does indeed come into contact with one.

So lets say that a revel gone wrong, and Dannys put into foster care and then handed into the Wayne family.

At this point the Bats know that Danny used to be phantom, because lets be real they would immediately figure it out. Yet Danny has no clue they are the bats. He just believes they are a really big family with too much money to know what to do with it.

So Danny someone who has no clue he has OCD but presents most if not all the characteristics.

For instance:

Danny subbing the same spot on the rug for hours trying to get rid of it. Because in his mind if that spot stays bad things will happen.

On another instance he is seen organizing and reorganizing his shelf on a very specified order and continuously going back until he is satisfied.

When he goes to eat he always asks if the food was washed and cleaned properly multiple times.

He always counts if all his cleaning supplies he keeps are there in the morning.

He has a very strict schedule in which he doesn't break and refuses to break, especially his cleaning schedule.

Now the Bats are completely aware of this, and instead of making feel bad about it they help him and reassure him every time.

Examples:

Danny found that in the living room the rug was too dirty, because of the constant influx of people bringing in dirt with them. Of course Alfred always cleans it, but Danny needs to make sure himself. So one of the siblings would help him clean the rug his way, as Danny does it in a very specific way.

Another example is when Danny started cleaning during a movie night because of all the popcorn that was dropped on the floor. The rest just stopped the movie and helped him clean the area, and then resumed the movie careful not to spill more popcorn.

At one point the family was concerned because Danny was moving into a more dangerous zone of the compulsions, such as scrubbing his hands raw because he accidentally touch something 'dirty' without his special gloves.

So they made Bruce ask him if he wanted to go to a therapist and possibly a psychiatrist for his OCD. And Danny just said he didn't have OCD he just wanted things to be clean and organized like everyone else.

in the end he was convinced to go to a therapist so he could learn to manage living with OCD, but he was endlessly happy that he had people to fall back to that didn't judge him, and instead helped him out.

note:

(I just want to say that I don't have OCD myself but a lot of my family members do have it, and ive seen how it affects their daily lives. And I wanted to bring to light that people can't control their obsessions/compulsions but they can learn to manage it so they can live calmer with less anxiety. So I hope I made it as realistic as possible and didn't sound stereotypical or offensive)

[astrologysaysno]

I saw this Tumblr post floating about on the world wide web and decided, "Hey, let's turn that into a Moshang AU"

Mobei is the heir of Northern Goods, a family-owned multimillion dollar company whose main stream of revenue is the sale and transfer of produce and other goods all across China. As Vice-President, he is the successor to his father, who is planning to step down within the decade or so and retire.

Mobei is a hands-on boss, actively participating in the process of harvesting and preparing to ship these products around the country and internationally, a family tradition to be as involved as possible in the process as to not forget their roots as humble farmers who resided in the desert.

That's all fine and dandy, it's why the turnover rate is so low in his company, their boss is competent in this field.

What Mobei isn't competent about is the more beaureaucratic type of business.

He has no real clue about how things such as accounting and the logistics that ensure that transportation and sale goes smoothly happen. Mobei isn't the business-suit on Wall Street type, he prefers to let his products and their quality speak for themselves.

So he hires a manager from the city to deal with it instead.

Shang Qinghua, a man who lives in the city since he was a child, gets hired by Mobei to as the Logistics Manager of Northern Goods. He snatches up the offer even if it means having to relocate to the countryside.

Plot follows, they fall in love, all that good tea.

Mobei is enamoured by this tiny (Shang Qinghua is not THAT short, Mobei is just very tall and well-built) little man that has somehow paved a way for Northern Goods to be stronger than ever.

Shang Qinghua is in love with his ever friendlier boss that actually understands the hardship and struggle of working out in the field as a farmhand, doing his best to ensure a better and more efficient environment for both the company and their workers.

Shang Qinghua one day decides to try his hand at this whole farming thing now that Mobei and him are closer, but Mobei refuses.

Shang Qinghua is a city man with a city boy constitution. He fears that such strenuous activity may actively kill the poor guy. SQH has worked at a desk and ONLY at a desk for his entire employment, filing taxes and filling forms for the company. Mobei would much rather have his man safe in the shade (hopefully entranced by his figure as he works) rather than having him sweat a river and dying of a stroke while gathering crops.

Shang Qinghua convinces Mobei to let him try anyways, stating he wanted to experience what Mobei experiences.

(If Mobei agrees and both of them use it as an excuse to spend more time with each other, that remains unsaid.)

What Mobei concludes that day is that Shang Qinghua is that the man has no upper body strength at all, but invested it all in his legs. When I tell you this man can run like the wind. Shang Qinghua would put a trackstar to shame.

After having to constantly run from one side of factories and fields to the other in order to stop someone from doing something dumb so many times, he's built up the cardio for extremely long distances without breaking too much of a sweat. He will need some melon seeds and a long nap afterwards, though.

(And if Mobei thinks about his legs every once in a while, he doesn't say a word.)

[love-rosaline]

am i allowed to cry?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ one slip and falling back into the hedge maze, oh what a way to die.

enemies to lovers, mutual pining // pierre gasly x fem!reader

prequel - how can i be guilty as sin?

authors note - god fucking damn that took a while, im so sorry lmfao😭 here is part 2! hope you enjoy! xx

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, taylorswift and 815,682 others

yourusername surprise!! “guilty as sin?” is out!! i hope you all enjoy, take care i love youu <3

9,152 comments

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Charles couldn’t wipe the knowing smirk off his face. He simply watched Pierre, waiting for more of a reaction as the song playing finally died down, leaving the pair in tense silence.

Pierre’s jaw was slack and his eyes wide as he pathetically turned to Charles for confirmation that this was in fact about him, or to see if he was just as dumbfounded as he was.

“Woah.” Is all he could muster up upon seeing the Monegasques ever cocky expression.

“Yeah.” Charles laughed. “Are you really surprised? It was quite obvious, mate.”

“What the fuck do you mean? The only sign she’s given me in the last couple years that she can even stand me was her not kicking my ass at your party!” Pierre dragged a hand over his face, simply not believing his friends blunt words.

“Okay mate, breathe.” Charles breathlessly chuckled, patting his shoulder carefully. Pierre shot him a warning look, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Why’re you worrying? You’ve been in love with her for like, a year now, isn’t this a good thing?”

“Yeah- yeah, of course,” the corners of his lips curl up into a slight smile. “It was just unexpected, man. But holy fuck, you knew she liked me? For how long?”

“Months! We all figured it out ourselves, we thought you knew!”

“We? Who else knew?” Pierre exclaimed.

“Oh- uhm,” Charles trailed off, laughing nervously. “Lando, Max, Carlos, Oscar, Danny, Lewis, Alex, Yuki-”

“Okay okay! So basically the whole grid, I get it.” Pierre huffed, crossing his arms.

“So…” Charles began. “You gonna talk to her?” Pierre wordlessly fled the room, leaving Charles smiling to himself and shaking his head.

You frowned, dragging yourself off your bed at the sound of rapid knocking on your apartment door.

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled, wondering who on earth needed to speak to you so urgently.

Oh.

You cursed to yourself again, knowing you likely should have seen this coming. But, a small part of yourself doubted Pierre would even take the hint that the song was about him, let alone show up at your apartment.

“Hello?” You asked as you opened the door, feigning confusion as you see the flustered Frenchman.

“You like me?” Pierre breathlessly said, a questioning frown adorning his pink tinted face.

“No,” you laugh incredulously. “Why… why would you think that?”

“Don’t lie to me.” You groan slightly, refusing to meet his gaze as you shake your head in defeat.

“Fine. I do like you. I like you a lot, and I’ve liked you for over a fucking year now, happy?” You rambled, finally meeting his eye with a frustrated glare.

He stayed silent. He knew what was coming, he knew you liked him, but actually hearing you confess it was completely different, he felt as though his heart would burst out of his chest.

Of course, you had no idea what was going through his head as he looked down at you without saying a word.

“Just go away, Pierre. I should’ve never told you.” You moved to close your door, but he quickly stopped you.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Just… hearing you actually say it. It was nice.”

“For your ego or…?”

“No! Dieu, princesse,” a slight smile finds its way onto his face at the way you were trying to get on his nerves, most likely to distract him from your rushed confession (he was right). “I like you too. A lot.” He places his hands on both your shoulders, almost reassuringly, as he looked into your eyes.

“Really?” You unsurely said. The hostile facade you put up to hide any feelings of undying love towards him melted ridiculously quick at his words.

“To be honest, I thought I made it more than clear.” He grinned. Your brows raised, taking the past year and a half into consideration.

In any social situation, whether it be a gathering of your mutual friends or a large celebration of some sort in which there would be no need to even look in one another’s directions, he’d find any excuse to be right there next to you, ready to annoy you or something along those lines. A prime example of this being the party days prior, or more specifically the interaction that finally led to you releasing the song completely unprecedented.

Or the more glaringly obvious sign, the constant flirting.

“Wow.” You couldn’t help but smile. “You actually like me.” He only shrugged.

“How could I not?” You giggled, leaning further into his hold.

“You’re being so sweet, it’s making me feel like shit for not releasing a cuter song.”

“Don’t worry amour, I like that one perfectly fine.” He smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

“Y’know, I was thinking you’d just kiss me but-”

As you’d hoped, you were cut off by Pierre’s lips on yours.

His head lifted from his phone when he heard your laugh. His favourite sound. Your head tossed back as you gently smacked your friend on the arm. Pierre couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile.

He didn’t think it was possible to love you any more, but with every single interaction since unveiling the fact you both held the same feelings for one another, he was falling even harder.

“I thought you two hated each other?” another friend spoke up. “How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?”

“You know what they say man, it’s a thin line between love and hate.” He shamelessly shrugged, just as you turned to him with a smile and a small wave. He didn’t even try hiding his blush.

[stayinlimbo]

Hoodie Season

pairing: lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to friends with feelings(?), fluff, subtle realization of feelings(?), or maybe they've been there all along, pitiful attempts at me trying to be funny, mc has hair long enough to be blown in their face, mc's gender not specified word count: 1.13k note: this has been torturing me for months. i really tried my best here, so go easy on me ♡

“Yes.”

“No.”

"We have this conversation every time. Yes.”

“No, and that’s because you won’t admit that you’re wrong,” you huff, biting back the urge to stick your tongue out at your best friend. You refuse to stoop down to his level.

“Because I’m not? Just accept it, zip-ups are better,” Minho shrugs, lightly bumping his shoulder into yours. Or at least what he thinks is lightly before he watches you stumble onto the strip of grass next to the sidewalk and almost hit a tree. 

Catching yourself, you whip your head back towards public energy #1 and glare at the sheepish smile he gives in return as the two of you continue walking past a row of quaint shops lining the vacant street. To where, you have no clue. You don’t even think he knows. Minho just texted you to be ready in ten minutes and wear something warm for another Saturday afternoon of following wherever your best friend’s feet decide to take you. 

But let’s not forget the very important topic at hand. 

“Hoodies are superior and I will not entertain any other viewpoint,” you declare, fiddling with your warm and comfortable and warm, and, oh, did you already mention warm hoodie’s drawstrings.

“What happened to your goal of being a more open-minded person this year?”

“That’s besides the point. This is entirely different,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. The chilled wind nips at your fingers before you bury them deep into the front pocket of your hoodie. 

“Sure it is,” Minho drawls with a quirk of his lips, ignoring the not-so-subtle side eye you throw at him. “Okay, I’ll humor you this time then. Why are hoodies, in your misguided judgment, so much better?” 

“Hey— okay you know what, I’m going to let that slide this time to save your from further embarrassment while I destroy your—”

“Boo, get on with it already.”

“Don’t rush me,” you scold as Minho raises his hands in a playful surrender. “Thank you. Now, as I was saying —look at me, this is serious— hoodies are an easily available and affordable luxury item; pull them over your head and bam, instant warmth.”

“How is that any different from zipping up a jacket?” Minho deapans. “You’re not very convincing, you know that right? And what if I don’t want to look disheveled with messy hair?”

“Is that supposed to be directed at me?” you ask with a laugh, hair blowing into your face. 

Minho’s smile returns. “You said it, I didn’t.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you continue. “I’m strong enough to admit that hoodies may be a cause for bad hair days but they’re so soft and comfortable that it’s worth it. Not to mention they’re more flattering too. Just look at me.”

“You look like you got swallowed by a fabric monster that decided you weren’t tasty enough to finish eating,” Minho teases, eyes twinkling with amusement as they scan over your heavily clothed figure. 

Okay, he’s got you there with…whatever that comparison means, but it’s not your fault you just so happened to grab the baggiest hoodie you own before rushing out the door. You can’t even think of a comeback before he’s already moving on to his next question.

“What’s wrong with how zip-ups fit anyway? I think I look fine,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You can’t argue with that one either. Fine is an understatement. The black zip-up he’s wearing compliments his physique perfectly, the not too tight or loose fabric accentuating the strong-build of his upper body. Ugh, he’s really not helping you make your case here. 

“You’re an exception,” you admit with a slight shrug of your shoulders, averting your gaze upwards as the rustling leaves above begin to fall on you both. 

Minho’s hand suddenly grabs your shoulder, halting your footsteps and causing you to look back at him, eyebrows knit together in confusion. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he steps closer to you, wordlessly lifting his hand from your shoulder in favor of gently plucking out a couple of stray leaves stuck in your hair and lifting your hood over your head, shielding you further from the crisp air. 

“There, now what were you saying about me being so good-looking that I defy your zip-up expectations?” Minho chuckles, letting his hand drop back to his side. 

Your face flushes even harder. At this point, you’re not even going to need a hoodie anymore with how hot your body feels. 

“Uh, calm down, I never said that.” you defend hurriedly. ”You’re lucky I have my hands in my pocket or else you’d be the one falling on the grass.”

“Leaves you vulnerable, though.”

“Huh? What do you mea— MINHO!”

Your vision becomes blocked when Minho swiftly tugs your drawstrings, leaving only a small oval of skin exposed to the biting wind. His uncontrollable laughter dances through the air around you as you attempt to pry the hood back open, increasing in intensity when it takes you an embarrassingly longer time than it should to reveal your eyes to the world again. 

“Oh, you think that was so funny, huh?” you interrogate, glaring at his hunched over figure.

Minho stands back upright, wiping at an invisible tear. “Yeah.” 

The cheeky grin he wears slightly falters as you stalk a couple of steps forward, bringing your face closer than you ever have to his. Softer pinks hues begin to color his ears and cheeks, likely from the cold wind or his laughter, you think. 

His gaze softens as it trails down to where your hand is carefully lifting up towards his chest, finally resting flat right above the opening of his zip-up hoodie, the proximity causing a flutter in your chest. The wind begins to pick up slightly, blowing your hair into your face again. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face and tuck behind your ear, fingers delicately lingering as he opens his mouth.

“I–” he starts.

Zippppp. 

The polar breeze hits his undershirt as an involuntary shiver runs throughout his body. Your laughter rings happily in his ears, the bright sound floating in the air as it is carried by the wind. 

You pull yourself away from him, backpedaling when he sends you a faux frown threatening to break as his lips try to fight the smile blooming across his features and already residing in his eyes. Giggles escape the both of you when he takes a step forward, rezipping his jacket, before breaking into a run as your shrieking laughter and his lighthearted swears fill the empty street, footsteps echoing on the pavement.

Looks like this time, he’ll be following you. 

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist:  @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn @inlovewithstraykids @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

@feelikecinderella

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking At You, Part 2

Summary: so many secrets

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  conversations about sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You walk towards the clothes section of the store. Having to make sure that there wasn’t anyone watching you, especially him. You swear his intensity broke you out in a sweat. He is the cause of your clammy hands, and you still haven’t come down from the car ride. You’d sent him on a mission with a list to get some things you needed, and you are on a separate mission. One that you didn’t want to get caught doing. You figured you could shoo him away while he gave you his card and you could pay.

Yeah, of course that makes more sense in theory, but you’d be willing to try to get him to trust you enough. Your eyes look over the different colors, patterns, materials, and shapes. All the shapes. What did it mean? Being at this store where there is food, nobody would ever question why someone dressed like you was here. People from your community just didn’t usually venture to this section, but would Ari? No. For some reason you think Ari would keep a lot of secrets for you.

Ehh, that didn’t sound good. You have secrets now. Secrets with Ari. You smile, grabbing up a pack quickly. You have secrets with Ari. And what did it all mean? He mentioned pleasure. Which is a sin. Pleasure of what? The flesh? You’d heard that before, but aren’t sure what it means. Something you aren’t supposed to do. But with Ari it seems — welcome? Unwelcome? No, it was welcome. It made your heart beat funny, but you liked it.

And what did that even mean? You feel tingly all over, and it was all you could do to bolt out of the truck and create some space between the two of you. What are these feelings? Why did all that happen? That was all new, and it felt like you couldn’t control anything, especially your body. But you couldn’t even control the way you’re speaking.

“Is that what you’re choosing for me to buy for you?” It is him standing there like a walking sin mixed with a brick wall, complete with a big beautiful smirk on his face as he lifts up the pack. “Or are you just needing new panties?”

Your eyes go wide as you look at the floor, and shake your head. Heat radiates all over your body, pooling in your cheeks, and your panties. Every time you get around him there’s definite heat streaming from your belly to your nether regions.

“Surely these aren’t the type of panties you wear under there?” You shake your head no, still refusing to look up at him. Ari grimaces. He’s not used to being around a woman so timid. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. But do you really think you should go with thongs? And a pack of them? If you want panties I can order them for you online, no one would have to know.”

“Online,” you respond dumbly for reasons you just don’t understand. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want people to know you wear these kinds of underwear?” You shake your head no again. His boots are dirty. That’s all you are learning from where you’re looking. Dirty boots. “Can you look at me? I won’t bite,” it feels like you’re swallowing swords as you gulp, and lift up to look at him. “There, now are these the panties you want me to buy you?”

You nod your head, eyes flitting around the store, and thankfully there still wasn’t people around. “Are these what you really want?” You shrug. You really had no clue. Anything had to be better than the non elastic nonsense you are wearing. “Do you need them right now?”

“Not really, but…”

“Okay, I’ll get some here, and if you want me to pick you out some to have delivered to my house, I can do that.”

“I can’t take them home,” Ari grins, and turns to walk back to the packs of panties, while you nervously watch around. “What are you doing?”

“I feel you jumping into thongs, while they’d be very sexy on you, especially if I was the only one who knew what you have hiding under that dress,” Ari clears his throat, drifting through the selection before grabbing a pack. “Thongs are a big step. Let’s do baby steps with bikinis, yeah?”

“You won’t say anything?” He shakes his head no, tossing them into your cart, and yawns. “We should be getting back, um…”

”You go onto the truck. It’ll be our secret,” you are getting a lot of secrets between you and Ari. You’re not even sure if this is a good or bad thing. But you like having secrets with him. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Shh, don’t tell anyone,” he grins as you trot away. He feels slightly guilty. Only a little teeny tiny bit. He’ll buy you every pair of panties that you want him to, as long as you show him. Maybe even one day have you modeling them for him. Or even better, let him push them into your mouth, so you don’t get to loud when he’s fingering you.

“Sir!”

Ari looks up at the cashier. How did he even get here? He was just in a world of his own thinking about you being all submissive and wet for him. So wet. So incredibly soaked for him. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Didn’t you come in with that Amish woman?”

“No,” he answers too quickly as she scans the pack of panties. He would never be buying you anything here again. You deserve the best. Silk, satin, lace. Not those. She starts scanning again, continuing to focus her eyes on him. You deserve specialty panties. Always the best.

“You know that they don’t integrate people like us into their world, right?”

“You know you should really mind your fucking business and just ring up my shit,” the girl looks back down at the items, shocked that Ari was so blatantly rude. But she is the one that was rude. How dare she ever say something about you. She didn’t know you at all. So far you had shown to be timid, yes. But you are different.

She could say what she wants about your community, but not you. You are perfection in a too large frumpy dress that he couldn’t see your curves, and he salivates knowing that nobody has seen those curves. Touched those curves. Kissed those curves. Gripped them so tightly as you come undone for the first time.

You were just looking at panties. You had a curiosity that was going to end up killing him, and he didn’t care. He wanted to nurture that side of you. Keep you growing with secrets that are just for him. Plus you are sweet, so so sweet. You probably taste sweeter. You didn’t belong here, but as long as you were here, he would respect that. And he would be here with you.

“Thanks,” he says, handing her his card. “And next time you should really think about things that you say to people. Don’t act like people’s differences aren’t beautiful.”

“Ari!” You giggle, turning back around from the sink as he walks in again. Smiling ear to ear as he walks past the kitchen. “Quit coming inside. Do you not trust me?”

“Oh, I trust you. I just have to make sure you’re doing your job right, and,” he presses a finger up against your mouth, shushing you in the process. “I need some water. So carry on,” he keeps his eyes on you as he fills a glass with water. His mouth continuing to keep a smile, while you try and give a stern look towards him.

“Darling, you have so much work to do,” he says playfully, but you don’t want to take your eyes off the tall man. “Or, we could make it an early day.”

“And do what?” He is always saying things like that, not realizing that you didn’t grasp exactly what he means by that.

He shrugs, leaning back against the counter. He puckers his lips out, and looks up at the ceiling contemplating. “What do you do for fun?”

“Fun,” you awkwardly laugh a second, but it falls quickly. When was the last time you actually had fun? What are your hobbies? Something that made you, you. The bigger question is when were you allowed to have an identity that didn’t fit the mold of everyone in your community, “Hmm…”

“It should not be this hard,” he doesn’t make fun of you, he stares at you gently. It’s comforting that he isn’t judging you by decisions that were made for you, “Do you not get to have fun? Do you read? Go cow tipping? Swimming? Anything?”

“I read the Bible,” his thick finger scratches his beard for a second, staring out in thought. “We don’t tip the cows, and when I was little my dad took me fishing, but I didn’t really have friends. And there’s always so much to do on the farm, not a ton of time to do leisure activities.”

“Oh, honey,” he stands up straight, walking over to you with his arms spread out, and you gaze up at him confused. What is this gesture? “Come on, give me a hug,” you shake your head no, trying to busy yourself with the lunch dishes. “Yep. Bring it in. You now have a friend.”

“Men and women shouldn’t engage in suspicious behavior inside a house. People could think we’re being unpure.”

“And what would you know about that?” He cocks up an eyebrow, and suddenly you feel so small. You know nothing, only what you have just said. What exactly did men and women do together that is unpure? “Darling, if we were being unpure, you would not be as quiet as you’re being right now. Our clothes are on.”

“What?” You glance up at him quickly, brows furrowed. He’s such a strange man. You couldn’t quite figure out if he was joking or being truthful the majority of the time.

“Sweet summer child, if you don’t want a hug, you can say that. But if you do, and you’re just worried about what other people will say, let me know. I’ll know when to back off. They’re out on the east field and on the other side of house if that makes a difference,” it kinda did. You look towards each of the windows that are in the kitchen before very awkwardly pressing up against Ari. Another secret.

“Omph,” his arms pull you in closer. Holding you in both a soft, and still dominant way. His head rests on the top of your head, and even though he’d been outside working, he smells nice. Too nice.

“Now, isn’t this nice? Do you want to read? I could get you some books and…”

“I couldn’t take them home,” he pulls apart from you too quickly as he stares at you curiously again. It’s summer and hot, and still you want his warmth, but his curiosity is too cute to look away from. It’s a habit he has, and you don’t know how to feel about the way he observed you. No one has ever done that. Does he understand the way that he makes you feel? There are always so many questions rummaging through your mind when you’re around Ari.

“Hmm, I have a bookshelf here. Built it myself. And you could keep the books you can’t have at home there, and we can make this a fun little morning routine,” what is this man going on about a morning routine? “You’re here to fix my breakfast, shouldn’t you eat, too?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought about that. Would it be proper? No, but it is the polite thing to do, so he’s not alone. He isn’t how you expected him to be. “Are we…is this a friendship?”

“This is exactly a friendship!” Ari snaps, and you take a timid step backwards. “Sorry, no, I’m just excited you get this. We’re friends, right?”

“Well you did buy me underwear,” he purses his lips. Staring at oddly, and you start giggling. You have a sense of humor, and it’s one thing he honestly admires. Every now and then little jokes weasel their way into your conversations.

“You just made a joke,” still laughing, you nod your head, missing his face going serious. “Do they fit? If you need me to check and see if they fit, I can.”

“Are you asking to see my panties?” He is an odd man indeed. “Is this a normal thing where you come from? And if I show you mine, are you going to show me yours?”

His hand wipes across his forehead, and you think he’s feeling the uncomfort that you have felt around him. Not an uncomfort that makes you want to run away, but one that makes you want all the things he talks about. Even if they scare you. “I wouldn’t say it’s something that everyone does out on the streets, but friends can become very close. And sure, if you want to see my underwear, I can arrange that for you.”

“So yes, you want to see my panties?” He nods his head, and you’re unsure how to respond. You like being around Ari. Love it actually. He is very odd, and yet entertaining. He actually talks to you instead of averting his eyes. He cares about what you think of things, and wants you to have fun and have hobbies. Men in your life weren’t like him, or look like him, “Maybe another time though?”

“Is there something wrong?” You shake your head no. There isn’t anything wrong currently, but the longer he stares at you the more you feel that weird creeping heat bloom in your belly.

“Your farmhands are outside. They’re not my friends,” you hope he understands what you’re saying because everything inside of you is screaming that you don’t want them to know what you are wearing under your dress, or worse, see it. You’d be ruined, and your family.

“Ahh! How could I be so stupid. Okay, I will buy you some books, okay? Fill up the bookshelf. I’m sure my sister has some recommendations for you to read, and we can — I don’t know, have a regular routine, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that. Our secret, right?” Add another one. But breakfast with Ari, both of you reading, and conversation is minimal sounds nice. Domestic even.

“Right. Our secret. I’m gonna just go — you know, go work,” he really needs to. He’s been in here for far too long and people will wonder exactly what is up with him being around. Friend. Friend Ari. You like it.

He is going to get you books to read, and you could have a real hobby. Learn things about his world. It sounds fascinating from what little you have heard from him. You liked him. He makes you smile, and laugh. Sometimes you forgot what it was like to laugh. You were out at the general store all alone, and left to listen to those girls talk about your lack of a husband. This is comfort. And he didn’t care that you are single.

You’re unsure of how you were able to make this situation comfortable, but you did. Hmm, you have something to look forward to, and make more money. And you have a friend. Even if he is odd. He’s nice to look at, and he makes you feel…

He just makes you feel. Feeling in a world where you’ve been taught to repress all of that. It’s freeing.

Ari takes a look back at the house, and then to the horizon. It is hot. Too hot. And he can see your silhouette as you do something in the house, and he isn’t there with you. He has this pull towards you. You need teaching. He is the perfect teacher, even if he is struggling to pull the reins. He enjoys you. He didn’t dislike Jacob and the other two that he can’t be bothered with knowing their names.

But you are a completely different thing. You encompass every part of his thinking, and he is excited to wake up knowing that you are going to be here, and he gets to see you! It’s amazing to think about the fact that he has you everyday. Here in his home.

He has never been a man that cared about domestic life or having one woman or children. But even he has to admit the appeal to seeing a beautiful woman in his home on a regular basis. You have only come for a couple of weeks, and it’s a nice touch to his home. Even if there’s a small part of him that loathes the way that the women are treated here.

You thought that what you are doing right now was what you were designed to do. You had no hobbies of your own, but thanks to him, you enjoyed reading. He even caught you reading instead of ‘doing what you’re supposed to be doing’. He wants you to have a fulfilling life. And he suspects with you slightly pulling away from the life you were brought into that you feel the same way. And if he has to be the one that helps you, so be it. He’ll do what he needs to. Maybe more hobbies.

Ari stands up straight, wiping the sweat off his brow as he looks towards Jacob who steadily works. “Boys, let's call it a day.”

“Work’s not done,” Jacob continues to sow the seeds, and Ari grimaces. He didn’t care. He wants the day with them here to end. He wants private company with you, “We need the money.”

“Your pay won’t reflect the early time off,” all three of the young men stand up, gawking at Ari, and looking amongst themselves. “It’s too hot. We’re ahead of schedule. Take the rest of the day off,” they linger. Unsure if what Ari is saying is a test. He wants to shout for them to leave, but that approach didn’t seem to help.

“Do you guys go swimming somewhere? Or do anything for fun?”

“I went to a barn raising one time,” now Ari is the one that gawks at his employees. “No. We don’t.”

“Okay. Here,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a hundred dollar bill each handing it to the boys. “Go spend some money. This is a bonus. Just go home. Have fun. Go. Leave,” the youngest one, Joseph or Daniel or Jedidiah, walks off first, and the others join with him. “Thank you,” he whispers before turning towards the house. You could have the rest of the day off with him, and he could learn some more things about you.

Waiting for long enough for the workers to leave, he walks into the house. Slinging the door open wide, and you yelp. Running to the front door and see him smiling. “Are you okay? What happened? Is everything okay? Why are you smiling? Ari?”

Slowly he closes the door, but his smile remains. “Do I need to get you something? Are you coming down with anything?” He shakes his head no, removing his work boots. “Well, I haven’t even started your dinner, so if you could go back outside and work, I can get started.”

“Don’t worry about dinner,” you didn’t understand. He called you in to do a job, and now he isn’t allowing you to do your job. You ponder that thought a moment, watching as he walks towards his bedroom. “It’s very hot today,” you agree. It is stiflingly hot. It is days like this that make you thankful that you are the woman. “And you are in here all alone.”

You like it that way. It has given you time to think, and with your current predicament you need that time to think. His books he’s given you have left you with more thoughts, and imaginations. Oh. You gulp as Ari steps back into the main area of the house. Gone are his work clothes, and now he’s showing his legs. Long and toned, and you bite your lip trying to keep any unwanted sounds from appearing. He has that effect on you.

“About dinner.”

“Don’t care about dinner,” he is too quick for you. The men in your community didn’t look like him, and they didn’t behave like him either. They never searched for a friendship with a woman. They just have them to expand their legacy with children. Secretly hoping for a male heir so their family name lives on. “We can pick something up in town later.”

“We?” The idea is scandalous, but not unwanted. There are very few times you wished you were a woman of the world, but there’s something appealing about riding around in the truck with Ari. There has been the idea of asking him to buy your normal clothes, so maybe nobody would recognize you. You had random imagines about being a girl he actually wanted, and one that looked like she belonged in his truck. That had to be where the funny feeling in your — belly is coming from. Those imagines of his hand holding yours.

“It’s hot,” you give him a nod, he’s already said that. You had heard about the English speaking in round about ways, and right now you wish he would just be completely honest about what it is he wants instead of beating around the bush. “There’s a swimming hole way back behind my house. Care to join me?”

“I can’t swim.”

“I can teach you,” he could teach you a lot of things, but maybe swimming is a great place to start. Ari doesn’t care about the rules, the two of you have broken so many, so he just wants to see how far he can go.

“What would someone wear swimming?” preferably nothing, but that would take things way too far for you. He doesn’t even know how to respond to that because all he can envision is you in those panties he bought you that he hasn’t given you, and a bra. Again, he hasn’t given them to you, and he thinks it might be weird if you knew that he’s bought you various kinds of lingerie. “Ari?”

“There are suits. All the important parts would cover you.”

“Important parts?” Dammit. He needs to start thinking before he speaks. “So what is exposed?”

“Legs, arms, and,” you shake your head no. You couldn’t possibly show so much skin especially around a man. “Okay, how about you just go to the swimming hole with me, and I’ll swim, and you can decide what you want to do from there?”

It didn’t sound too bad. In fact sticking your feet into cool water, while you sit down and enjoy the sun makes you smile. You read about kids that played around a river. Maybe not in it. Being able to just be present and enjoy a moment of nothing never happens. You don’t really slow down in this life. “Okay,” this could be a big mistake, but you want to do it. You want to spend extra time with Ari. “I would like that,” he smiles, and you feel fuzzy again, but nowhere that you have ever felt before. Well, before Ari.

You’d noticed he really likes it when you voice your opinions to him. In this world you didn’t get to have an opinion, your husband did. But he cares about what you like, and what you don’t like. Seeing him smile makes it all worth it, and still you wonder what is happening to areas much lower than your belly. Being around him you always have that fuzzy feeling in your stomach, but when he smiles it's in unmentionable areas, and you just don’t understand. But you didn’t hate it either.

“Amazing,” he extends a hand out towards you, and you’re too tempted not to grab it, and he leads you out the back door.

“You’ve done amazing work out here,” his hand pulses around your own, and you look up at him, and he’s smiling again. He likes simple praises, you’ll do it more often, “You’re much taller than the men here.”

“I hope that’s a good thing, Darling,” that name. The name that makes things nearly unbearable. The name that you hear in your head throughout the night, and a need to do something. It’s like a scratch that needs itching, but you just didn’t know what scratch could fix this feeling, and…who would you even ask about this?

“It is,” he smiles again, and you seriously want to melt. The temperature must be getting hotter because you feel sweat beading around your hairline, and your throat dries right up, while other things start to — you can’t even mention it. It’s confusing. How does a smile create a fiery need in — areas?

The swimming hole comes into view, and Ari drops your hand. He grips the bottom of his shirt, and pulls it off in one movement, and you spin around immediately. Cheeks steaming with embarrassment, but other things…it’s so hot. He’s so — he’s so something, and you are a mess. Ari yanks down his shorts before he walks over to a deep part of the river, and jumps in.

“Darling, you can look,” he’s absurd. You can’t look at a naked man. But you want to, just because it’s an experiment. He’s a man, you are a woman. What is different on him than you?

“You’re naked, Ari,” his chuckle is so deep and haunting that you peek over your shoulder. “Ari, I can’t be around you when you’re naked.”

“I’m not naked. I’m fully clothed,” you peek more, and notice the swell of his chest poking out of the water. His hair on the amazing pillows of his chest is dripping into the water, and you whimper. He most certainly is not fully clothed. Hair pushed back off his face, and that stupid smile. And heat that you’re sure is from the pits of hell.

“Ari! Your clothes are right there,” he wades to the edge of the river, and gets out, and you spin around again. You feel so weak. He is more broad with no clothes on. Legs and arms sinewed with muscles, and his body is dripping in almost the same way as your own. “You are naked.”

“I promise I’m not. This is what the English wear to swim. You’re not seeing something other women haven’t,” oh that doesn’t sit right with you. Be brave. You spin around and fully take him in. Other women didn’t need to look at his body. He’s your employer, and if anyone deserves a right to stare, it’s you. You don’t just stare, you gaze. Taking in every part of his body. Tracing every line with your eyes, and he stands there looking like the worst temptation.

Like the time you snuck a bite of the pie before it was cooled down, and you smoothed it back out, so no one would know. Keeping that secret still to this day. But you don’t want anyone else to have him as a sin. You want him as your sin. What does that even mean? You need to ask for forgiveness, because he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You could write books and poetry about him. And you want to take your time as you discover each vein that follows along his arms, and every hill and valley that makes up his stomach and chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you squeak out, walking past him. It’s hard to do that, but you have to sit on the edge of the river bank. Pulling up your skirts and kicking off your shoes, you let your legs dangle enough into the water, so your toes get refreshed. Your entire body needs it. Squeezing your thighs together seems to help a little bit. But still there is an emptiness, and you want to ask him about it, but what could he possibly know?

He goes back into the river, swimming about a bit. His eyes are constantly drifting to your legs, and then your ankles, “So this is what you English people do for fun?”

“Uh huh.”

“And what does a woman wear?”

“Depends on what she’s comfortable with. Some only cover the same as panties and a bra, and some go completely nude,” what? Women swam completely nude? With other people present. “Usually that can be a fun little date.”

“Date?” You’d heard the word before, but didn’t know if you fully understood it.

“Two people just hanging out getting to know one another. Usually it’s when they’re sexually attracted to each other.”

“Sexually?” There is that word again. “What exactly is sex?” You know you’re attracted to Ari, he is perfect and beautiful, but what is sexually? Or even sex?

He takes long slow blinks, while his eyes transfix on your legs again. That stupid heat gets higher, and you rub your thighs together. This helps more than squeezing them. Your heart rate is everywhere. You’ve never felt it in every part of your body, but also…in the worst place.

“Well when two people like each other…”

“Like you and me?”

“Yes, Darling. Exactly like us. We can use us as an example,” he looks like the devil and an angel all at the same time. “When two people like each other their bodies react. Weird things happen. Heat, pulsing you feel in places you never considered before,” he looks right at your stomach. No, not your stomach. He knows. He knows exactly what your body is doing. You should ask him. You should tell him exactly what is going on.

“And…ugh, this feels almost inappropriate,” he deeply breathes, looking away so quickly you think he had to have hurt his neck.

“Just tell me.”

“For us, at least, a man and a woman, in that scenario man, me, enters into the woman, you.”

“Oh. Oh!” Okay, that makes sense. So you mate like the animals. Hmm, “On all fours?” He cringes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” you’re saying all the wrong things. How does one receive a man if not on all fours?

“Humans have a plethora of options,” he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but he also doesn’t want to feel he’s completely corrupting you either. He knows how many lines are being crossed right now.

“Are you big like a horse…everywhere?” That feels more than mildly inappropriate, but you’re the one that brought it up. Adorably you look towards the water, below his waist, and that when it hits him. His own curiosity about you builds up so hard, steel hard. His cock twitches in his boxers, knowing that you are trying to figure out his size.

“Not quite like a horse, but arousal does change things,” hmm, quite like they’re changing him now. He couldn’t show you. That would be going too far, but he knows eventually you’ll ask. You still haven’t averted your eyes away from his crotch. He wonders from your angle if you could see how hard he is. “Why are you asking?”

“I have always thought it hurts the mares. I understand it’s a part of life, and she’s only doing what she’s born to do naturally, but it just seems so invasive. And humans do this to get babies?” He shrugs, it’s much more complicated than that, and that’s not the only reason. “It just looks painful.”

“Well, look at it as it is the way it’s intended. We’re created to be made to fit together, you know?” Okay, that makes sense. “People are meant to — mate with people. I suppose not all humans are meant to fit together.”

“How do you know that you found someone that you fit easily with?”

He gets a mischievous smirk on his face, wading closer to your body. His eyes focus much too low again before he makes eye contact. “Sometimes you just have to make it fit. The first time things are a bit tighter. But with prep and time I can make it fit. The woman’s body is amazing. When she’s ready to take a man, your body preps itself. It heats up, it gets so wet and sticky, making it easier for me to enter into you.”

“Does it hurt?” You are missing all the moments he’s actually saying ‘you and him’ because you are trying to figure sex out. In order for him to mate with you, you’d both have to be naked. He is almost naked. You pull your skirts even higher, all the way up to your knees, and he looks very quickly, enjoying the lower view. And a quick glimpse at the panties he bought for you.

“You’re very curious today.”

“That means it does hurt,” he’s ignoring your question.

“So I’ve been told. I wouldn’t know from experience because I’m entering into you, but I have been told it does sting,” he’s been told. Some other woman told him it hurt, and it wasn’t you. It actually makes you angry to think about the fact another woman has seen him naked, and felt him. You should be the one feeling him. What? What are you saying? New feelings explode in your body, mixed with the anger you feel.

”Why would anyone mate for more than having children if it hurts?” And why did another woman get to see him like that? And feel him? Did she get the fuzzy feeling? Did he look at her the same way? There is no way another woman feels the same way you do about Ari.

“There’s more to sex than mating,” how is that even possible? You only saw the animals mating to procreate. “It brings two people so close, both physically and spiritually,” oh now it hurts. Another woman was not only physically close to Ari to have him inside her, but they had a spiritual closeness, too? This isn’t even jealousy anymore, this is painful.

“Not to mention the amount of pleasure that happens will bring you to your knees,” you wonder if she felt the way you did. If she had this heat coursing through her entire bones, while she got to feel him. Got to have him in a way you couldn’t even comprehend.

“It sounds like a sin, Ari. It almost sounds like you are worshiping…”

“Worshiping at the altar between a woman’s legs is like a religion,” you sigh, looking at the water instead of Ari. Worshiping idols is a sin, but you’re more concerned with the fact he was worshiping a woman that wasn’t you. He finally said it. Whatever is happening between your legs is because of Ari, and he would worship you. But he worshiped someone else, and it pains you more than anything you’ve ever felt.

You push your skirts back down, giving Ari a final goodbye nod for the day. “I should go, Ari. I’ll eat dinner at my parents’ tonight.”

“Wait,” he climbs out of the river, walking after you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” lying is a sin. He pulls you tightly against his body, hugging you, and this hug feels different. He feels…bigger. “Ari?” His hard rod pushes up against your stomach, and you feel an odd need to roll your body into his. This is so very confusing. Everything is happening at once, and it nearly blinds you in thoughts.

“Ignore it,” how can you ignore whatever is pressing up against you like that? Pulsing to the same rhythm as whatever is happening between your legs. “We’re okay?”

“It’s just a lot. And…that…” what you really want to say is crude and outlandish and you just can’t say it. You can’t let him know that you’re more scared of him now than ever. There is no way that thing would fit. And he’s worshiped between another woman’s legs, so he did fit. What if you weren’t made for each other? But he was with another woman. “Ari, I can’t.”

“Forgive me for being so outright, but not every woman makes this happen to me,” if he wasn’t holding you, you’d have sunk to your knees. Everything is so weak. There’s so many emotions and feelings, and you just want some alone time or time to explore whatever part of his body is touching you. The pulse between your legs is intense and you have a desire to ask him to help.

“It won’t fit.”

“I’m not asking to make it fit,” of course he’d say that because he has another woman. He doesn’t need you like you need him. Why are you so conflicted with everything? It’s physical and mental, and apparently spiritual.

“I’ve gotta go,” he lets his arms fall, and you dare to look. That didn’t help the feelings in your body. You have more questions. And you can’t ask any of them.

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” You give him a nod, realizing that everything feels hard on you. Even on your chest. What is happening to your body? The sweat is everywhere, and the residual water from him presses your dress around your skin, and somehow makes it feel nice. And your body is showing proof of its own changes as your nipples poke through your dress, “Okay, I’ll have some more books for you on the shelf okay? I don’t work too hard, and enjoy reading, okay?”

“Is it a sin?”

“It’ll be our secret, okay?” This is more than just the books, he’s talking about whatever this is currently happening between you two. You shouldn’t want it, but you crave it. You crave just coming to his house, and seeing him. But the idea of seeing him fully naked and pressed against you, takes your breath away.

“Our secret,” your secrets with him were adding up.

Next

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @patzammit

@theolivia-1

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 4

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 4.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, public sex, blowjobs, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, mentions of morbid games lmao

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Beomgyu about what happened at the party, mostly because you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to ask him about Haeun because you don’t want to hear that they’re together now. And you don’t want to talk to him about Yeonjun and admit to him that you are not actually together when he clearly has someone else. 

As for Yeonjun, you start becoming closer and closer to him–you’re not actually dating but Beomgyu doesn’t need to know that, and the fact that he thinks you are and it’s pissing him off beyond belief is just the cherry on top. 

But due to all this messiness, things become awkward between you and Beomgyu. There is this unspoken tension that neither of you will acknowledge. Even just him coming home and stepping into the living room where you’re at feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Live with your best friend, they said. It will be fun, they said.

You focus intensely on your phone, determined to ignore Beomgyu until he retreats into his room like the virginal creature he is. But to your dismay, he heads straight to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Beomgyu asks, rushing to your side and you look at his concerned face with confusion. “What is it, did Yeonjun hurt you?” 

“Huh?” You hum, completely lost. 

“Your face. You look like someone ran over it.” 

You glare at him, showing him your phone pointedly. “I’m just stuck at this game.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoulders relaxing. “Damn, I thought it was serious.”

No shit. It looked like he was ready to scratch Yeonjun’s face off at the mere idea that he hurt you. Which is kinda sweet, you guess. 

“It is serious. This game is kicking my ass.” You complain, brushing past it once again, choosing to focus on the escape room game you’re playing. “I feel like such an idiot. Why can’t I figure this stupid puzzle out?” 

“Let me see.” He sits beside you, plucking the phone out of your hands. 

“Hey!” You protest loudly but he shushes you. “Let the genius do his thing.” 

You bark out a laugh at that. “Now that’s hilarious.” You mock him, but let him try anyway. If only because he looks the prettiest when he’s concentrating on something. 

What? It’s not like you’re going to get over your undying love for him in a day. 

Beomgyu flounders around just as you had expected, clicking all over the screen to try to unlock some hidden clue to no avail. Soon enough, his frustration reaches your level/ 

“What the fuck do you want me to give you, you stupid man?” Beomgyu yells in frustration, repeatedly tapping on the man who won’t give him the phone number he needs. 

“Is the genius struggling?” You mock and though he doesn’t mean it, he gives you the most heart-breakingly adorable pout you’ve ever seen. It takes the combined strength of every single cell in your body to not swoon on the spot. 

“Shut up. It’s a stupid game.” He mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Or maybe dialing random numbers on the phone isn’t the best strategy when there are like an infinite number combinations possible?”

“Like I said, stupid game.” He asserts, “It’s impossible to solve.” 

“No, you’re just an idiot. Give me back my phone.” You try to take it from him but he refuses to hand it over, insisting, “I’m going to solve it.”

“Beomgyu, come on!”

“I’ll figure it out!”

“No, you won’t, dumbass!”

“Okay, now you’re really not getting it back.” He says and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighs and tugs on your arm, pulling you onto his lap, “Come here, let’s work it out together.” 

How can you when his breath hitting the back of your neck lights your nerves on fire and the warmth of his body pressed up against yours fries up your brain? 

Still you valiantly push through, coming up with ideas together to solve the puzzle, equally stupid ideas that don’t work, but you don't even care about the game anymore, just enjoying being in his arms, leaning back against his shoulders, surrounded by his warmth and his scent. 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m cheating.” He announces after a long, frustrating stretch of inadequate gameplay, and you grunt. “Yes, please.”

You watch as he looks up the answer to the puzzle you’re stuck on online, practically melting in his embrace. 

“That’s the answer? What the fuck? It doesn’t even make sense.” He grumbles once he finds the answer, the vibrations of his deep voice like a cat purring against you. 

“I know. This is so annoying.” You mutter, no heat behind your words, as he enters the code given from the walkthrough. “Or maybe we’re both idiots.” 

“Nah, nah, it’s the game that’s stupid. We’re so smart.” He denies dramatically and you giggle.  “The smartest.” 

Once he dials the number given to him by the man, a distorted voice answers, giving you a cryptic message before hanging up. 

"Look into the eyes of the bird. What does that mean?" Beomgyu wonders, and a sudden realization hits you. "Oh, oh, there was an owl statue back there!"

"You're right. Good thinking, babe.” He compliments mindlessly, oblivious to the fact that he so casually sent your heart into overdrive. Yes, he has called you that before, but never in a non-sexual context. This whole thing feels so domestic, so relationship-y, and it’s seriously messing with your tattered heart. 

Beomgyu goes back to the owl and taps on its eyes. They turn white and the statue shakes, causing your anticipation to rise… but then nothing happens. 

"Wait, what?" Beomgyu wonders dumbly, and you frown. "Let's look around again. Maybe that did something."

"Okay." His head moves ever so slightly to the side and he takes a deep breath through his nose, frustrated, but if you didn’t know any better, and if your wishful thinking had its way, you would think he was taking your scent in. 

"Oh, there it is. It opened this thing." He says excitedly, jolting you out of your fantasies. "That’s the code!"

"Come on then, open the suitcase!" You gush, joining the excitement. You just love to see him so giddy.  

"Right." 

You watch his eyebrows furrow as he looks around for the suitcase, and you do your best not to bend forward and kiss his pretty nose. 

Damn it. Get yourself together. 

"It's a camera. Let's try to take pics with it." You tell him once he opens the suitcase. 

"I have a bad feeling about this." Beomgyu says, trying to take a picture of the mother character but it doesn’t work.

"Try the child." You grab onto his arms, feeling nervous yourself. 

You click on the child but instead of taking a picture of her, she takes a picture of you. Then the scene turns dark and she starts screaming.  

"What? What is happening? Pull back." You tell him urgently. 

He moves around frantically, stopping at the scene with the mother and now there is a monster behind her. The monster speaks in the same distorted voice, saying it’s taking the mother and leaving the child to you. 

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu asks, creepy music playing in the background. “Bring her back!”

“Oh, don’t feel bad for the mother. She fed her brother urine and dug up the corpses of her family members for a sacrifice.” 

“She did what?” He gives you a look of disgust.

“But even that’s not surprising. I mean she’s the product of the semen her father ejaculated into a jar and combined with the egg he extracted from her dead mother who he killed because he was obsessed with her.” 

“Why do you play these games?” Beomgyu groans, horrified. 

You shrug. “I am fascinated by the morbid. And if I recall correctly, I didn’t ask you to play.”

“I know. I just missed hanging out with you. Even if it’s playing creepy games or just you ranting about your day.” He says sheepishly, turning his head to face you, and you suddenly realize fully how close you actually are. You gulp. “Yeah. I missed hanging out with you too. I guess we’ve both been… busy.” 

“Yeah with the gigs and the parties and all, I guess I’m not around much.” He trails off, running his fingers up and down your forearm, making you shiver. Then looks up at you with a grin. “Hey, remember back when we were so lame no one ever invited us to parties so we would just spend our weekends at home watching movies and playing video games?”

“Remember? That was only like a couple of months ago. You may have forgotten your roots Mr. I’m-in-an-up-and-coming-band but it will always be the loser lifestyle for me.” 

You're joking but you do miss it. You miss when he was your Beomgyu and not Haeun's. Even if it was just in your head. You miss your best friend and not the asshole he became. 

“Yeah, right. You’re such a loser, you’re dating the lead singer of that band.” He mutters challengingly, staring you down. You’re so close, you only have to lean in a tiny bit to meet his lips, and by the way he’s looking at you, you think he wants it too. 

But then his phone rings and the moment is over. You snap back to your senses and quickly get off him, glancing at his phone. It’s Haeun. Of course. You feel so stupid. You’re not his girlfriend. You’re just his dumb friend who thinks she has a chance with him when he never expressed any interest in her and has in fact been in love with another woman–a woman who is now his girlfriend. 

“Baby–”

“Your girlfriend is calling. Answer her.” You tell him harshly, and he flinches, taken aback. He is silent for a second, searching your face for something, before he sighs. “Fine.” 

“Hey, baby.” He answers, looking at you as he uses the exact same nickname he just called you. You roll your eyes, starting the next phase in the game, trying not to let it show how hurt you are as you pointedly ignore him. “I’m good. Heading for bed.”

He pauses for a second during which you pretend you’re actually playing the game as he listens to what she’s telling him, before he says. “Baby, I can’t come over now. I’m tired… yeah, i’m just not feeling that well–No, no, don’t come over. I’m okay. It’s–” 

He shuts up abruptly and you look up to him to see him staring at his phone in frustration. 

“She’s coming over?” You raise an eyebrow and he sighs. “Wants to make sure I’m not sick.” 

“You’re so lucky.” You gush sarcastically. 

“Don’t start.” He warns.

“No. No. I’m really happy for you. Your love with Haeun is so special. So special in fact that you probably only share it with like five other men.” 

He laughs at that. “Oh yeah, it’s not like you’re dating boyfriend of the year either.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, hands on your hips. 

“It means that you’re not the first groupie he’s had. You’re probably not even the only one. Hey, maybe if you stick around long enough, he’ll even introduce you to the others.”

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” You hiss, grabbing your things and heading to your room.

You know you shouldn’t have goaded him. Things were going well. You were finally spending some quality time together, just the two of you, just like you did before. But then you had to open your mouth and let your ugly jealousy show. 

Doesn’t matter. It would’ve been ruined anyway when she arrived.  You’re not really in the mood for a live sex show. 

______________________________

But if you thought hiding in your room would shield you from it, then you were dead wrong. You can hear them even from under your pillows. You would put on some noise-canceling headphones but Beomgyu owns those and you really don’t want to go to his room and give your worst nightmares form.   

All you have to distract you now is your phone and your frantic messages to Yeonjun. 

You: Junnie. I’m seriously going to kill myself. 

Yeonjun: Are they that loud? 

You: Her mostly. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to make me vomit. 

Yeonjun: Maybe she is. Maybe she feels threatened by you. 

You: Threatened? That’s crazy. 

Yeonjun: You’re right. It’s not like you hooked up with him before or anything… oh wait. 

You: You’ll be my 13th reason. 

Yeonjun: I’m sorry. If you’re so upset, why don’t we go out? 

You: It’s 2 am…everything is closed.

Yeonjun: So? The streets are open. We can walk around. It’ll be fun.

You: I don’t know. Isn’t that kinda dangerous? 

Yeonjun: That’s the fun of it. But if you’d rather stay home and listen to her fuck the guy you love then be my guest. 

You: I’m getting dressed. 

____________________________

“Do you take these late night walks often?” You ask Yeonjun, hugging your jacket close to your body to fight against the chill in the air. 

“Sometimes. When I have time to.” He shrugs, his breath making visible vapor trails in the air. “There is just something so magical about that period of time between midnight and dawn, when everyone else is asleep and it’s just you and the stars. Feels almost magical, you know?” 

“Yeah. I know. It’s like you could say anything and everything and it would be safe from the light of the morning.” 

You know all this too well because you used to spend that precious time with Beomgyu, cuddled together into the late hours of the night watching movies or talking about nothing even when you knew you had an important lecture in the morning or band practice to go to. 

During those moments you thought that Beomgyu could almost feel how you feel. No two people could share what you shared without being in love, right? 

But it was just the spell of the night talking. There was nothing there. Not from him at least. 

You stop for a second, taking a look at the slumbering city around, looking into windows and wondering about the occupants inside–Are they happy? Are they with their loved one? Do they feel the magic around them? 

Does Beomgyu feel the same way you felt about him with her?

You feel arms wrap around you from behind, and Yeonjun rests his head on your shoulder. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” You relax against him, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to stay in the moment, willing the night to work its magic. 

“How cute.” You hear a gruff voice cut through your attempted peace, and your eyes snap open to see a man holding a knife out at you and Yeonjun. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Yeonjun pulls you behind him. “No need to get violent.” 

“There will be no need if you quietly pass over your phones and wallets.” The man gestures with his knife. 

“I can give you the wallets but I have very important files on my phone.” Yeonjun attempts to reason with him but the man gets closer with the knife. “Hand everything over.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Yeonjun tries to calm him down, while you do everything in your power not to shit yourself. You’ve never been held up at knifepoint before! This is what you get for listening to Yeonjun. The man has orange hair! No good ideas could come from him.

“That’s the fun of it.” You mutter under your breath as you get your stuff out, repeating Yeonjun’s earlier words. “Yeah, this is so fun.” 

You shoot Yeonjun a glare before reaching out to hand over your precious belongings, but as the man goes to take them, Yeonjun suddenly smacks his arm, causing the knife to drop out of his hand and onto the floor.

Both men lunge towards it, attempting to recover the knife, and for the few seconds they fight, your heart stops probably a couple of times. If the mugger gets the knife, you’re sure he’ll send you and Yeonjun off with a few new holes in your bodies. 

Thankfully though, Yeonjun manages to swipe the knife in the end, and he holds it out threateningly. Well, as threatening as you can be with your arm shaking. 

“Aha!” He screams at the mugger, who in turn raises his hands up in surrender. “Get away from us.” 

“That’s my knife.” The man says dumbly. 

“It’s mine now. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Yeonjun counters, sounding a little crazed. “Now get the fuck away before I return it to you somewhere you wouldn’t like.” 

“You wouldn’t.” The man doubts Yeonjun. 

“Yeah? I was crazy enough to wrestle it from you. You don’t know what I would do.” 

“Fine. This isn’t worth it.” The man turns and runs away. 

You and Yeonjun stay frozen for a good few minutes.

“Holy shit.” He breaks the silence, “I can’t believe I did that!”

“I know! I almost passed out. You’re fucking crazy.” You smack his shoulder, “You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking. It all just happened so quickly.” He breathes in shock, then looks around. “We should probably clear out of here in case he comes back.” 

“Right.” 

You quickly walk away, hurried steps accompanied by the occasional disbelieving exclamation until you deem you’re far enough away. Finally, you stop, looking around to make sure the coast is clear and to gather your bearings. 

You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it’s the stress of nearly dying, but you suddenly burst out laughing. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you did that! We could have died.” 

“But we didn’t.” He tries to argue, grinning madly, “And now we got this cool trophy.” He brandishes the mugger's knife, happy with his conquest before a frown takes over his face. “Do you think he stabbed anyone with this before?” 

“Probably.” 

He lets go of the knife and it falls to the ground with a clang. “Ew.” 

You both burst out laughing again, letting the high emotions runs themselves dry. But as your crazed laughs die down, Yeonjun pulls you close and kisses you, expressing that passion in a different way. 

"Junnie…"

"Did the near death experience turn you on too or is it just me." He jokes and you blush. "Maybe." 

You feel his hands fiddling with the button on your pants, but you grab them to stop him. "No, let me do it this time."

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side. You know he knows what you mean but that he just wants to hear it from you. But instead of answering his question with your words, you get on your knees in front of him instead.

He cups your cheek gently. "You don't have to do this, doll."

"I want to." You undo his pants, taking his cock out and giving it a kiss. "Teach me?"

“That is so fucking sexy.” He hisses, gathering your hair in his hand. “Start slow. Don't overwhelm yourself. Just get it wet first."

“Okay.” You lick his cock, gathering your spit as you go and using your hand to spread it over his entire length. Bit by bit, his cock becomes more hard and slippery, letting you easily slide your hand over it, your tongue licking him everywhere from his shaft to the small opening on his head. 

“Okay, that’s enough teasing.You can start taking some of it in your mouth now.”  

“But I like teasing you. It’s payback, baby.” You grin, refusing to pull back, and starting to suck gently on his balls instead. You don’t know where all this confidence was coming from. You’ve never done this before. In fact, before Beomgyu, you didn’t have any sexual experience at all to speak of. 

But Yeonjun is not Beomgyu, and he doesn’t take your brattiness. He tugs on your hair pulling your head back until you’re completely off his cock, then he grabs your face with his other hand and pushes his thumb into your mouth, opening it. “Don’t make me punish you, doll. I want your first time to be nice so be good now.” 

He pushes you face towards his cock and this time you open up, obediently taking him in. “That’s it… no, no go slow.” He cautions when you take in more than you could, gagging a little bit. “I’m not going to fuck your throat. Not tonight, at least.”  

You moan around his length, squeezing your thighs together in need. 

“Aw, doll. He hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” He purrs and you pull back, shaking your head. “Didn’t let him.” 

“Good.” He breathes, pushing your head back on his cock, encouraging you to take more and more of him, but being careful to not push you too far, always pulling you back when you start gagging. 

To be honest, you’re not doing much. You’re just letting him fuck your mouth, going along with the pace he sets. But he won’t let you slack. 

“Suck on it, baby.” He purrs, hand getting tighter in your hair, and you pucker your lips, sucking his cock every time you pull back. “Ah, that’s it. You’re doing so well.” 

You look up at him, seeing how he’s starting to struggle a little bit, the pleasure getting to him so you double your efforts, bobbing your head as far as you can go and sucking harshly as you go up. 

As you do that, you inadvertently pull off him with a pop, but before you can put your mouth on him again, he holds you back. “Spit on it. Get it all wet and sloppy.” 

You bite your lip, doing everything to not put your hand between your legs right now. You gather some spit in your mouth, grabbing his red, hard cock in your hand before spitting on it, immediately using your hand to spread the saliva over his length. 

“Use both hands. Twist them as you go up. Makes it feel like you’re milking my cock.” He groans, throwing his head back, and you stare at him, amazed. You never thought you’d actually have a guy feeling like this before. 

I mean, of course, if it was Beomgyu, he would’ve gathered a crowd around you because of his moans by now, but that’s Beomgyu. He’s a virgin and he thinks everything you do is sexy. But Yeonjun has had a lot of experience. So much so that he probably had more than a couple dozen girls blow him off before. 

Oh. You really shouldn’t have thought about that. Now you’re overthinking it, wondering if he actually likes it or if it’s just alright.  I mean, with Beomgyu he’d be babbling all about how good you’re making him feel and begging you not to stop and–

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” You squeak, quickly going back to doing that twisting motion he told you about and attaching your mouth to the tip of his cock, sucking on it as if you wanted to drain him. 

“Ah–it’s just–you were kind of–holy shit, that’s good…” He trails off, losing track of his thoughts. “Squeeze your hands as you do that. You’re not gonna hurt me.” 

You hold onto him tighter, letting your tongue prod at his slit as you suck him off and jerk him with your hands, determined to keep his mind off your little slip. 

“Okay, okay, I’m close. Gonna cum, doll, so unless you want it in your mouth then get off.” He tries to pull you away by your hair but you refuse, sucking on him harshly until you feel a warm fluid filling your mouth. “Oh, shit.”

You whine around his cock as your mouth fills up with his cum. You only pull back when he has no more to give, keeping his seed in your mouth for a second before hesitantly swallowing it down.

“Fuck, swallowing on your first time? What a dirty girl.” He purrs, gently smoothing your hair down from the mess he made of it.

He’s very gentle. He really took it slow with you. You should be happy that your first time was so positive, right?

But as you look up at him catching his breath, the strong taste of him on your tongue brings up an ugly feeling of regret. Oh god, if Beomgyu finds out about this, he’ll be so pissed. 

Why are you even doing this? Just to piss him off? Do you actually like Yeonjun? Do you think you can love him the way you love Beomgyu? And does he like you? I mean, he did tell you that he does, but what does that mean? Given his history and all, how many other girls does he like? How many other girls is he doing this with? 

Suddenly you feel dirty, and the pavement burn isn’t helping you feel less like a slut. 

“You okay?” Yeonjun asks again and you shake your head. 

 “Yeah! It just… tastes weird.” You deflect, and Yeonjun laughs, putting his cock back in his pants and helping you up. “I warned you.” 

“I was curious.” You shrug, throat closing up. “But now I really need water.” 

“I’ll get you some water. But first–” He pushes you against a wall, “Let me repay the favor.” 

He tries to lean down to kiss you, but you put a hand up to stop him. “That’s okay. Technically this was me repaying the favor.” 

“Well then owe me one more.” He suggests, trying again but you turn your head to the side. At that, he finally steps back, sighing. “What’s going on?”

"Are you… are you messing around with other women?" You ask uncertainly. Beomgyu really messed with your head. 

"Did you want us to be exclusive?" He asks, and you step away from the wall. "Oh."

Right. Of course. He’s the lead singer of the band. Of course he’ll have a dozen other women after him.  

"I just figured with you and Beomgyu–"

You’re stupid to think he’ll sit around and wait for you. "No, I get it." 

"I swear I am not as much of a manwhore as you probably now think I am." He insists, “It’s just… we’re not dating, right?”

“Right.” You confirm. 

“But if you want to. We can try.” 

You give him a smile with some effort. “We’ll see.” You look up into the sky. "The sun is coming up. Let's go home."

______________________________

By the time you reach home, all the stars have disappeared, drowned out by the oppressive sunlight, and you hope to god Beomgyu is fast asleep. 

"Want me to come inside?" Yeonjun suggests but you shake your head. “No. I’ll just go to sleep. You should too.” 

“Right.” He sighs and moves to leave but then stops abruptly in his tracks. "You didn't say you wanted–"

"Just let me think, Yeonjun." You interrupt, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he still looks unsure. “Good night.” 

You don’t let him say more, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you quietly. You look around to make sure the coast is clear before treading lightly to your room. 

"Welcome home.” Beomgyu’s voice stops you in your tracks, and you wince as you turn towards him, seeing him standing in the door of the kitchen holding some coffee. “I suppose you were with Yeonjun again."

“It's not what you think." You don’t know why you’re lying. You don’t know why you even feel guilty about this. Haeun must be sleeping in his bed right this moment. 

"So you didn't go out and hook up with him?" He asks and you stay quiet, making him scoff. “Of course.” 

You let out a heavy breath. "Beomgyu, I can't deal with this right now. I’m tired.”

“Do you like him?” He ignores what you said, tone serious, and you have to stop and think about it for a while.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” You say at last, feeling lost. You don’t mean to goad him. You just don’t understand his behavior and it’s time he made some sense of it. 

“I just don’t want you to fuck up my band.” He says simply and you stare at him, even more lost. “What?” 

“If you date him and then you break up, it’ll make everything awkward between me and him. This sort of thing has broken up bands before and I just didn’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose what could be my future because you wanted some dick.” 

You let out an incredulous laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Is that all he cares about? So it’s not about Yeonjun or even about you. It’s because he’s worried about his precious band.  

“Well, that’s not up to you. Is it?” You ask bitterly, but that just riles him up more and he gets all up in your face. “Like hell, it is. This is my future.” 

“Well, this is my future too. Yeonjun could be the one for me.”

He staggers back. “What?” He breathes, stunned. 

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, feeling completely overwhelmed by everything that has happened today and just needing to retreat back to your room and curl up into a ball until you’re able to push the bad feelings away. 

“I need to rest.” You turn around, running to your room and leaving a shell-shocked Beomgyu rooted to the floor. 

______________________

A/N: feedback keeps me going so drop a message about what you think of the new chapter to motivate me to get the next chapter out faster 😂

and once again

Taglist: @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 33

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 30, part 31, part 32

“No,” Wayne says. Nothing more to follow. Just no.

“I know it’s a big offer,” Steve continues to explain. “But Dustin brought it up and I wouldn’t have accepted it if it wasn’t a good idea.”

The offer is too much. Too big. Too unnecessary. Wayne can figure all of this out on his own. He doesn’t need someone’s charity. Especially a rich boy’s charity.

“And I heard you out. But now I’m saying no.” He walks down the hall, away from the waiting room. He hears footsteps following him but can’t seem to care.

“Did you actually?” Steve insists. Coming up next to him. “Because I would back off if I thought you actually heard me out.”

Wayne doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He doesn’t even want to think of the offer. It’s a ridiculous thing to even think of in the first place. There is never a reality where Wayne would accept this, so why would he hear Steve out. Whether it was Dustin’s plan or not. It’s not his job to pander to what other people want for him.

It was the end of this discussion, and Steve needed to know that.

Wayne stays silent for the rest of the walk to Eddie’s room. Stopping outside of the door with a thick sigh.

“Kid, I appreciate the offer, I really do. But my answer is no, and you need to respect that.”

When he opens the door, Eddie’s sitting up on the bed. Looking confused and a bit intrigued. It’s a cruel thought, but Wayne misses when he was in the coma and anything he said, Eddie didn’t hear. Or at least, couldn’t react to.

“What offer?” he asks, putting down the puzzle he was doing.

“One that doesn’t matter, because it’s not happening.” Wayne sits down, giving Steve a look that he hopes makes him drop it.

Eddie would probably be on Wayne’s side. He hopes. But there’s something between him and the Harrington boy that he doesn’t understand. Something that he doesn’t even think they understand quite yet.

All he knows is that Steve is here a lot more than he used to be. Ever since that blow up, him and Eddie have been closer. There are days when Wayne shows up and it’s just Steve. Sitting close to Eddie and they’re just talking. Whispering between each other like there are other people in the room. There aren’t, but apparently that doesn’t matter.

It scares Wayne, just a little bit. He knows Eddie is gay. He told Wayne himself a few years ago. Scared out of his mind and a bag already packing in his room. He was ready to be kicked out and skip town. When Wayne would never. Not about this, or anything really.

Eddie was his kid, through and through. There was nothing that would make that change. Even with the murder allegations. It wasn’t going to make Wayne think differently about him.

But now, he’s scared. Because Eddie looks at Steve with some kind of awe and reverie that he’s never seen. Wayne’s not stupid, he knows what that means.

Doesn’t mean he likes it, but he knows it.

He has no clue about Steve. What this would mean for him. Whether he’s accepting, or maybe gay too. There’s nothing there for him to go with. All he knows about that is from stories, and none of them are good.

But when he looks at Eddie with the same look in his eye. Giving back as much as Eddie gives. Wayne’s starting to think that there is more there. There shouldn’t be, but there is.

He’s refusing to think more about this. To wonder if that is going to go anywhere. Or that he’s right. Because it’s rude to speculate about people. Especially about this. So he doesn’t. And does all at the same time because he feels the need to look out for Eddie. Eddie’s already been hurt so much, he doesn’t need heartbreak on top of it.

So living in the same house with this kid is not a good idea. Even if it means bringing Eddie back to the motel while he looks for a place to live. That is better than putting Eddie in a situation where he could get hurt again.

“Dustin had this idea,” Steve starts, not listening to Wayne’s silent protest, “that you and Wayne could come and stay with me for a few weeks. Just until you find a permanent place to live.”

Eddie continues to look confused. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and I had this whole long speech to try and convince him before Dustin could get to him, because he will no matter what happens. But Wayne didn’t want to hear it.”

Eddie leans back in the bed, trying to wrap his mind around it all. “And you would be ok with that?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, yeah. It’s not the first time I let someone stay when they needed to. I let Mrs. Mayfield stay when she was looking for a new house. And this one time, Robin’s house has to get fumigated, so I let her, and her parents stay for the few days they were kicked out.”

Wayne takes a bit of surprise to this. It somehow makes the offer more genuine.

“Your parents don’t have a problem with this?” he asks. Realizing this is the first time that Wayne’s ever even mentioned them to Steve.

He hasn’t heard Steve mention them at all. Or anyone, for that matter.

Steve scratches at the back of his neck. “They kind of officially moved out of town after the mall fire. They’ve been back a few times, around holidays, but only for a day or two. If it weren’t for me still living there, they would have sold the house already.”

“Didn’t you get, like, badly injured in the mall fire,” Eddie asks. Looking sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Steve said with another shrug. “They stuck around for about a week after it happened to help me out a little. But after that, they were gone.”

Wayne’s not sure how he’s supposed to react to this. He would never have imagined moving away without his kid. Even if they were an adult, which Steve barely is. Wayne would still stay until it was the kid’s choice to leave. After that, there would still be a room with all of their old things. A space that they could stay in, if they ever needed to.

Apparently, that’s not the same for everyone.

He rethinks over the offer. Taking out his own stubbornness, as much as he could at least. It’s honestly really kind of Steve to offer up a space in his home for them. For anyone. With a house that big and only him in it, it had to be lonely. Maybe for a while, he and Eddie could make it a little less lonely.

“What was the rest of the speech?” Wayne asks. Causing both Steve and Eddie to look at him with shock. Wayne ignores it. “You said that you wouldn’t stop until I heard you out. I’m hearing you out.”

Steve smiles just a little bit before launching into all the benefits of moving in with him. There was a gym in garage that had everything Eddie needed to do his physical therapy from home. And a ground floor bedroom with a bathroom so he didn’t have to use the stairs. A pool that Steve could fill if Eddie wanted to do some water therapy. Plenty of space for Wayne and Eddie to live comfortably while Wayne searches for a place to live.

Plenty of empty bedrooms for storage if Wayne needed it. He doesn’t know why that stands out the most to him, but it does.

They were right. It would be nice to bring Eddie back to a place that had an actual bed. Somewhere with a lot of space for his recovery. Somewhere where Wayne could save up most of his paychecks for a house.

He might actually find a place a lot nicer than what he was looking at now.

Wayne accepts the offer before he can find a way to reject it. Hoping that it’s the right decision.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[harmonicakai]

The Only Exception

Part 1 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: It's starting to feel like you're the only person in the world that Huening Kai isn't best friends with, and you're determined to figure out why.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni), reader has an inferiority complex

“I never had a doubt that  You would come through I always adored you  I always ignored you” —The Prince of the Hanging Gardens, Beatenberg

If there were any reason for Huening Kai to dislike you, you had no clue as to what it was. The two of you would get along perfectly fine on paper, but despite you and Yeonjun being best friends for over a year now, his roommate has never warmed up to you.

He isn’t like this with anyone else. Kai bounces from stranger to stranger, laughing and chatting away as if he’s known them for years. With you, he won’t even look you in the eye or mutter more than a few words.

For Yeonjun’s birthday party last month, you baked him a cake from scratch. It was a smash hit with the guests, but when Kai sang praises and asked around for who made it, you could tell he was disappointed that it had been you. 

“Oh, Y/N. It was good,” he said, offering a weak thumbs up and declining to say anything else. You’d been watching him in deep conversation with every other person at the party, his obnoxiously loud laugh interrupting some of your own chats every so often. So why did he never have anything to say to you?

It’s not a big deal that he doesn’t like you. Really. He almost never comes out of his room when you’re around, so there’s not many opportunities for things to be awkward. At least until this morning.

You’ve got breakfast plans with Yeonjun at Seoul’s hottest new café, and even he can’t get a reservation. So, that means lining up with the rest of the city before the sun’s even risen.

You tiptoe around the apartment so you don’t somehow wake up Kai. The last thing you need is for another reason to hate you to be added to his list.

Sitting at the kitchen table to drink your first coffee of the day, you can hear the soft sound of the shower running. Great, you think to yourself. Yeonjun’s barely started getting ready and you’ll most definitely be last in line now.

While you’re scrolling on your phone to find less popular alternatives, a creak in the floorboards catches your attention. You look up to see a barefoot girl with messy hair and a short dress attempting to sneak out.

When you catch her eye, she looks like a deer in the headlights. No doubt one of Yeonjun’s many conquests from his latest excursion to the club, this doesn’t faze you. 

That’s what you think until Kai pops his head out of his bedroom.

“Hey, wait,” Kai’s hushed voice calls. He steps out in his boxers and a t-shirt, the girl still too stunned to speak. In his hands are a small wad of lacy fabric—her underwear. “Don’t forget these.”

He flashes a perfect, pearly-white smile at her before pulling her in for a much-too-long kiss. The crazed look in her eyes afterward tells him that something is wrong. 

When he glances over to the kitchen table and meets your gaze, his smile drops.

“Get out,” he tells her, his mood shifting somewhere between embarrassment and anger.

“Are we still on for Saturday night?” she asks, making you think that Kai must’ve really liked her to make plans to see her again.

“No. Get out,” he says again through clenched teeth, refusing to look away from you. She scrambles out the front door without another word.

Kai’s mouth twitches, as if he’s finally going to lay into you, but instead he presses his lips together and turns away. His bedroom door slams behind him.

Half of you is used to Kai treating you like this. The other half wonders if maybe you were as pretty as she was, he would be nicer. Suddenly, you don’t feel like getting breakfast anymore.

By the time Kai comes back out of his room, fully dressed and finally calm, you’ve already left. 

He sits down, your coffee abandoned on the table, nearly full with lipstick smudged across the lid. He lifts the paper cup, inhaling the coffee’s sweet aroma, and takes a sip. It’s cold now.

—————-

It was your job on the styling team at HYBE that introduced you to the boys. You had just graduated college and moved to Seoul, and fashion was the only way you could really express yourself.

Instantly, Yeonjun noticed how shy you were and took it upon himself to bring you out of your shell. Now, the two of you are inseparable. 

“Where the hell were you the other day?” he asks as you organize clothing onto racks. You’re not even dressing him today, but he’s hunted you down in the building like a bloodhound. A hairstylist trails him and attempts to put his bangs in a roller. “I woke up at the crack of dawn for nothing.”

“Um,” you start, looking over your shoulder. You lock eyes with him and then gesture towards the hairstylist, now clipping in lime green extensions. 

“Hey, could you give us some privacy?” he asks, although it’s clearly more of a command. They nod and walk away, leaving Yeonjun with a half-done head of hair. 

“You look ridiculous.”

“And you’re acting ridiculous. Since when do you stand me up?” Yeonjun pouts.

“Stand you up? You’re not my boyfriend,” you scoff.

“You wish I were,” he quips back. You roll your eyes. Not in a million years would you be each other’s ideal types.

“Shut up, Jun,” you say, walking towards the storage closet to grab a steamer. He follows.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop busting your balls. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Huening Kai. I sort of… walked in on him… with a girl.” Yeonjun’s eyes go wide.

“Holy shit. Like they were in the act? Please tell me this wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen or—”

“No, ew. She was just on her way out.” Now he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“Come on, Y/N! Why’s that such a big deal? He has girls over all the time.” The last statement makes Yeonjun stop himself and regroup. “Well, I mean, every once in a while. Look, what I’m trying to say is that Huening isn’t a virgin, okay?”

“This is the first I’ve seen or heard of any of this,” you state. The only Huening Kai that you really knew was the innocent maknae role that he played up for the cameras. Plus, you figured with how often you were over, you would’ve noticed another girl at least once.

“Well, we try to not talk about our sex lives around you too much.” That’s a lie. Yeonjun loves talking about his sex life.

“Thanks, I guess? Is that because I’m a girl?”

“No,” he replies. “It’s because Hyuka asked us not to.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. So what was so bad about seeing him with some girl?”

You don’t really know how to put your feelings into words. Your hesitation makes a sly grin spread across Yeonjun’s face.

“Y/N… you’re not jealous, are you?”

“Oh my god, no! I’m just… confused, I guess. I kind of figured that he wasn’t very good with girls, considering that he never wants to have a conversation with me.”

“Trust me, Huening is very different when he’s had a few drinks. You’d know that if you ever went out with us.”

“You know clubs aren’t really my thing.”

“They could be. Come on, we’re going out tomorrow night. Why don’t you wear this?”

He pulls a sparkly black dress from the rack, a rejected look that you pulled for one of Le Sserafim's performances. Its straps criss cross over an open back, showing way more skin than you’re comfortable with. 

“You know I can’t take anything from here. Besides, what’s wrong with my own clothes?” 

Yeonjun looks you up and down. Today, you’re wearing a maxi skirt, button down, sweater vest, and your glasses. Okay, maybe it’s serving grandma-chic, but you like it.

“Y/N, you are so adorable. Really, just the cutest. But at the club, the goal is to be sexy. I’m sure under all of those layers, you’re super hot. Hot enough for Huening to bring home next.” 

He says the last sentence with a wink and your ears suddenly feel hot. You get the feeling he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, snatching the dress out of his hands. “But if I go, it’ll only be for an hour, tops. And it has nothing to do with Kai, okay?”

“Whatever. Just don’t forget to make me the best man when the two of you get married, alright?”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he muses, planting a kiss on your cheek and strutting away.

—————-

At the end of the work day, your feet ache and all you want is to get home and take a nice bubble bath. 

A sudden change in concept meant that you had spent several hours past when you were scheduled to leave, calling designers in order to secure samples for NewJeans to wear in an upcoming music video.

Trudging into the elevator, you let your eyes drift shut as you lean against the wall.

“Hey, wait!” someone’s voice calls, sounding eerily familiar. Your eyes shoot open. A hand shoves itself in between the closing doors, opening them back up. 

Huening Kai slips in, sweaty and out of breath. Despite seeing him just a few days ago, his hair has changed from jet black to a dirty blond. 

You glance at your watch. Is this really the hour that idols tend to go home?

He checks to see that the ground floor button has been pressed and stands facing the doors. Either he hasn’t noticed you or is choosing to ignore you.

“Hi, Kai,” you say, contempt in your voice. If he won’t acknowledge you on his own, you’ll make him.

Kai turns around slowly to face you, his expression completely blank. “Oh, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know it was you.”

Sure, he didn’t. There’s still twelve floors to go, and it’s going to be a long way down.

It’s silent until floor seven, in which Hana from makeup steps in. Her hands are full of Olen’s latest release. How many colored contacts does one group need?

“Hi, Hana! Long time no see,” Kai says, bowing his head slightly. Hana’s much older than the two of you, so it’s hard to gauge whether that makes her easier to talk to or he just happens to have a thing for age gaps. For your sanity, you decide it’s the former.

“Hi, Kai! And Y/N, I almost didn’t see you there!” Go figure. You’re invisible to everyone. “Are you two headed somewhere?”

“No, we just happened to get in at the same time. Nice coincidence, though, right?” he says, much happier now than when it was just the two of you. “It’s so great that we ran into each other! Are you done for the day, too?”

“Oh, no! I still have lots of work to do, but you two have fun with your night. You’re both so young,” she laughs, stepping out onto the fourth floor. “And by the way, you would look very good together.”

When the doors shut, it’s silent again. You’re so close to the lobby now.

Except the numbers stop counting down. Kai looks up from picking at his cuticles and shoots you a knowing look. It’s stuck at three.

“That’s not good,” he says, although he doesn’t seem as worried as you. How can he stay so calm right now?

You press the emergency button and the line buzzes before connecting. The sound is muffled.

“Can anybody hear me?” you say into the mic. More incoherent noises reply back. “Hello? We’re stuck in an elevator in HYBE’s east wing. Please, send help!”

The line goes dead. You’re going to cry. You’re trapped in an elevator with the person who dislikes you most and now you’re going to cry in front of him.

You clench your fists and squeeze your eyes shut as hot tears begin to stream down your face.

“Y/N,” Kai asks, his voice soft. You’re too busy trying to steady your breathing to hear him. He places a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, are you okay?”

 “No, I’m not okay! I just want to go home!” you snap at him, your voice trembling. “I’m tired and it’s been a long day and now I’m stuck here with you and I—I just can’t believe this!” 

Kai takes a step back. Even through your tears, you can see that you’ve hurt his feelings. He stares at his feet. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be upset.”

His words make you choke up even more, like you’re somehow the villain. You crouch down to hug your knees. He kneels next to you and places a hand on your back.

Maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe he doesn’t hate you. Or, maybe, he just feels really bad for you this one time and has decided to be nice.

“Y/N,” he says again. You raise your head and look at him with puffy eyes. The sight of his face, so full of worry, makes you cry even harder. What the hell is going on? Who is this guy and what has he done with the Huening Kai who can’t stand to even be in the same room as you?

Kai’s hands find yours and bring you to your feet. Before you can say anything, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You bury your face in his chest as one of his hands smooths your hair. 

His body is warm, his heartbeat strong and steady. Yours slowly begins to match its pace. As you breathe in and out, you notice that he smells like freshly brewed black tea and ripe peaches in the summertime.

You’re so relaxed now that you don’t notice that the elevator has started to descend again. A ding attempts to tell you that you’ve reached the lobby, but it’s too late.

“Holy shit,” Yeonjun laughs from the other side of the doorway. Has he been waiting here the whole time? “Y/N? Kai? I fucking knew it!”

Kai immediately pulls away from you and exits, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he speedwalks towards the building’s front doors without so much as a goodbye. 

Yeonjun does a double take, eyeing your red eyes and smudged mascara. He sits you down on a bench and places a hand on your shoulder. “What happened?”

“Ask him,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “You guys live together.”

“Will do,” he concedes. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“I’m fine,” you say, although that’s debatable. “Really, you’re good to go.”

Yeonjun sighs, knowing that something’s clearly bothering you, but he’s already learned his lesson when it comes to pressing you on certain matters.

“Well, goodnight, then.” He pulls you into a hug and ruffles your hair before getting up. “I love you. Call me on your walk if you need to, or at least text me whenever you get home.”

And just like that, he’s gone and you’re left all alone. Tomorrow is sure going to be something, you think to yourself.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

[norawriteswords]

CAT & MOUSE.

notes:: thank you so much for all your love on my previous post - I didn’t realize so many other people love Brian moser too🥹🥹 this fic is me trying to get back into writing, so I apologize if there’s errors or it’s written weirdly :( there should be approximately 900 words! Fem pronouns are used and i think the terms “girl” and “girlfriend” are in there a couple times. Sorry not a lot happens here but I’m hoping to do another chapter? Also, no use of y/n!!

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, feeling tiredness seep into your body. The quiet ambience of the precinct wasn’t exactly helping your drowsiness either. Distant ringing phones and low chatter faded into white noise as you struggled to stay awake.

You lazily pushed your mouse, switching tabs. You were beyond exhausted, and quite frankly sick of sitting at your desk. At the ding of the elevator you unceremoniously turned your head, expecting one of your fellow officers to return from a coffee run.

Your eyes widened at the familiar figure approaching you. You smiled softly. “Rudy? What are you doing here?” He had clearly just come from work himself, still wearing his white button up and black slacks. He looked more relaxed, shedding his lab coat and unbuttoning the first couple buttons of his shirt.

“Thought I’d see my favourite detective.” He smiled and thoughtfully tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “And bring you some of the hard stuff.” He mumbled sarcastically, handing you a cup of coffee and a pastry.

You smiled, exhaling in amusement at his comment. “Rudy… that’s so sweet of you.. you didn’t have to.” you gushed, touched by his little gesture. He smiled, leaning on your desk. He gave you a little wave, motioning for you to eat. You were quick to break into the little pastry, having a bite.

“So, how’s the investigation going?” He asked. He looked around, taking in the precinct. You groaned. “Torturous.” You sipped your coffee, appreciating how fresh it was. “We have absolutely no leads.”

Brian feigned a frown. “Really? You don’t have a shred of evidence?” He asked. He was fishing. You shook your head. “Well… I mean we had something. But it didn’t work out. We got a partial print on a lozenge wrapper- but it’s not in the system.”

Brian’s entire body froze. He blinked. “A lozenge wrapper?” He repeated. You nodded, breaking off another piece of the flaky pastry. “Yeah. I guess our guy is really into lozenges or something because Tucci told us while he was captive he would constantly hear that kinda..” you paused, thinking of how to verbalize it best. “That crinkly wrapper sound. You know?”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. So?” You paused to chew your pastry. Brian was about to lose his mind. “So, we went back to the crime scene, and I found a lozenge wrapper. But like I said, no usable prints.” You grumbled.

Brian’s heart rate steadied again. “Well, that sucks doll. Sorry.” He said affectionately, looking down at you. You smiled, basking in his affection. “It is what it is. I know we’ll nail him one way or another.” Your hopefulness brought a smile to his face. “Atta girl.” So naive.

You were supposed to be his eyes and ears in the Miami Metro PD, you were supposed to be an object to him. But how could you be an object? You with your smiles and love. God it was sickening how he fell for you. He desperately tried to detach. To use you for your purpose. He lured you into giving him the occasional insight, a little hint, some words spilled over drinks, some stolen peeks at your notebook, but nothing substantial. He was attached to you. He refused to call it love, but rather fondness. Affection. Regardless it was something he didn’t want to feel.

He sighed, wanting to find as many clues about the case as he could, while still trying to seem like an attentive boyfriend. “Any dinner plans?” He asked, looking at a whiteboard beside your desk. Photos of suspects, locations, bodies. He felt a pang of pride.

“No. Did you wanna get something?” You peered up at him, hoping he’d say yes. He smiled, and your heart fluttered a little. “It’s almost one in the morning doll. I don’t think much is open.” You glanced at your watch in disbelief. “Jesus Christ.” You muttered.

He gently tilted your head up to look at him. “You should swing by my place. I’ll cook you something.” He offered. You couldn’t help your smitten expression. “Oh yeah? Like… steaks? And fries?” You smirked, trying to fish for a yes. He smiled, stroking your cheek a little. “Yeah. Steaks and fries.”

“Perfect.” You stood up, pressing a kiss to his lips, standing on your tiptoes. His hands immediately found their spot on your waist as you kissed him. “Give me ten minutes to wrap some stuff up. Wait here.” You ordered. He smiles and held his hands up. “Yes detective.”

As you happily walked away to go freshen up and return some files Brian saw his chance. He glanced around the mostly empty precinct before sitting in your desk chair. He clicked around a little, trying to find any trace of that lozenge wrapper.

He opened up a file, containing a digital copy of the partial print and possible matches. He ran the cursor along the list, deleting every potential match. He shut the tab, immediately switching to another one. He didn’t want you to find out his secret. Not like this. No. He wanted you to earn it. You were a clever girl, and one of his mistakes was no way to catch him.

He stood up and tucked in your chair, shifting his weight. You walked back, holding your coat. “Ready?”You asked. He smiled and nodded, his hand on your lower back as he walked you to the elevator. “Ready.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

You’d find out in due time. He’d made sure. And he was certain you’d get a nice little promotion too. He was helping you! Your career. And moving his plan along too. He liked your little game of unsuspecting cat and mouse.