#oooo i think i see the light!

[queen-mabs-revenge]

hold up tho -- i was too busy being mad about everything else, but as a certified Cat Stevens Enjoyer (inherited dad music taste ppl rise up) now that i'm stopping to think about it even using 'father and son' in the final context is itself an empty symbol???? it's like they took the name of the song and the lyrics 'i have to go away' and were like oh yeah nice 1!

but like the song? is about? intergenerational conflict??? specifically the conflict btw a father advocating for a conservative, settled, traditional and pleasant life and a headstrong son resenting that repressive upbringing and making the decision to break away towards his passions? it's not meant to be one person singing throughout the whole thing, it's a really compassionate and heartbreaking dialogue between the idea of settling for the well-trodden road, and the need to leave it behind: the son not convinced by the comforts of the expected, and the father in some ways advocating settling for the traditional because he just doesn't want his son to leave him.

like in that context, it's the avatar of traditional singing 'find a girl, settle down - if you want you can marry. look at me i am old but i'm happy' over ted's car pulling up to michelle's house.

it's the avatar of the need to break from the repression of that life who frankly wails out (mr stevens i owe you my life) 'all the times that i've cried keeping all the things i felt inside, it's hard - but it's harder to ignore it. if they were right, i'd agree -- but it's them they know not me. there's a way and i know i have to go away'

like???????????????

using that song there is a whole ass choice but it's uhhhhhh at the very least a deeply complicated one, which doesn't really seem to click with this supposedly uncomplicated and 'unambiguously happy ending' they were apparently going for:. again like i said, feels like they just were like 'oh yeah father and son. people cry to this song right? bingo ringo!'

again, like with barbecue sauce and the pinball machine, it's borrowing those emotions from symbols instead of actually building them up in the story, and whoooo baby this song is just another case of those symbols not really matching up with the empty narrative they're being asked to prop up.

(anyway fun fact: the song was originally written for a proposed musical about the russian revolution and the son is actually singing about wanting to join the bolsheviks ✊🚩)

[rawliverandgoronspice]

anyways, still deeply invested into my read of Ganondorf being an immense bully to children partially because, in a way, he rationalizes that putting children through the grinder is baaaasically kind of helping them to grow up faster, in a throwing you into the river to teach you how to swim kind of way, and if they can't handle the grinder, they were weak and it's on them and they can either suck it up and try harder, or get wrecked and die

and obviously that says absolutely nothing about how his own upbringing may have been handled, right twinrova, nor anything about how he may have buried a profound bitterness about the fact he was never really allowed a childhood of his own, and it's not fair others, especially hylians, get to spend their own carefree.

of course not.

[mattsbrowser]

candy

summary: Matt thinks you taste like candy

| “There you go— good girl, fuck”

warnings: oral!femreceiving, pussy!drunkmatt, overstimulation

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

The room was bathed in a dim, almost ethereal light. The low lighting created a sense of calm, with shadows softly stretching across the floor and walls. It was a space where the gentle glow seemed to wrap around everything, making the room feel intimate and serene— quite the opposite was happening.

Matt’s gently curled locks were all I could see nesting between my thighs. My hands ruffled in his hair as I moaned out loudly with my back arching. “Oooo— Matt fuck” I moan softly. Matt was taking it slow, we were both tired from the 4 previous orgasms he ripped out of me.

My jaw goes slack as I contort my face pushing my head back into the pillows. I let another soft moan brush past my lips. “Mmmph- please Matt” I plead as the knot in stomach threatens to snap at any moment. Matt groans against me, flicking his tongue up and down causing my body to twitch.

Before I can beg anymore Matt’s fingers find their way into my spongey walls. I gasp, eyes going wide, as I whip my head down to meet his eyes. He smirks mischievously before speaking, “hold it for me baby” he comments. “Matt” I whine. “I can’t- you can.. and you will” he demands, looking up at me. Beads of sweat drip down from his forehead as he continues curling his fingers within me.

I whine throwing my head back before closing my eyes and squirming beneath him. “Matt— I can’t a-any long-er” I yell. “Let go sweetheart” before the words leave his mouth I’m a moaning mess beneath him. A long cry of his name has me squirting all over his fingers and tongue. “There you go— good girl, fuck” he groans. Matt continues to fuck his fingers into me before pulling out and cleaning me up with his tongue

I hiss at the contact before he places a kiss to my clit. “ ‘m sorry baby, you’re just like candy—- so sweet”

@mattsbrowser

tags: @idontcare4urmom @summerchris @kaisturni @cherib3lla @muwapsturniolo @slutt4matt @pearlzier @sturniolosiphone @dirtylittleheart333 @chaossturns @banqnakilp @sturnsmadl @aniesvision @lianaloverr @chriss-slut @obsidianbaby @sturniologals @l34n @likeumeanit9497 @teddybearbad @iluvmattsbeard @sturnskiss @kirby0strombolli @kiibichio @meerkatzthings @mattscoquette @sweetreliever @pkfferoo @slxt4chriss @mqttittude @fratbrochrisgf @sofieeeeex-blog @watercolorskyy @ifwdominicfike @luvs4matt @esioleren @angelic-l0ver @blahbel668 @mattsturnswife @conspiracy-ash @chriseatingmeoutin4k @chrissypoosworld @izusbae @stvrnmc @sophand4n4 @matts-myloverboy @zayluvss @ivysturnss

[dpspcehntr]

Okay you can write this however you want ( if ur comfortable with it) but I'd really like to see the Lads reacting if they came out of the shower and fem mc was there in their room and she removes the robe to see because she is curious what's underneath 🤭🤭

OOOO! I haven’t thought about this but I love the intimacy of this! I'm going to write this from the idea of this being early in your relationship with him.

My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!

Warning: suggestive content

Xavier

He sees you sitting on his bed in his hoodie and your pajama shorts playing a game on your phone. The look of concentration on your face lets him know you haven’t noticed his presence just yet.

"What are you playing? Can I join?"

You flinch and look over to him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. This was not your first time staying over his place but it was the first time you've ever seen him in his robe. Your words are lost in your throat as he walks over to you, phone discarded on the bed next to you. Without thinking you reach out to pull the string of his robe. You expected to see his usual black boxers but was greeted by his naked form. Your throat goes dry as you shut it in hast. Your face is flush and you look away.

"S-sorry. I didn't know."

He lightly grips your chin and turns you to look at him again. His skin is covered in a light blush as he leans in for a kiss.

"I figured it would be easier if I didn't have on any clothes. But now I feel under dressed."

You reach for the hem of his hoodie and lift it off with a quickness as he climbs into the bed on top of you.

Zayne

You were packing up the belongings you brought with you for the weekend at his place when he enters the room in nothing but his robe loosely tied around his waist. He walks over to you by the dresser and slides his arms around you.

"I wish you'd stay just a little bit longer."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and lays his head in the crook of your neck. You stay like this for a minute, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

"I can spare just a little while longer. I'm dying to unwrap this gift you've gotten me."

You turn around and face him. You lock your eyes with his as you pull the ties on his robe. You give him an up and down look and hum in satisfaction.

"It's perfect."

He blushes and lifts you up to sit on the dresser.

"That's just a part of this gift, I still have more to give."

He kisses you as you scoot to the edge of the dresser and hook your legs around him.

Rafayel

Rafayel quickly enters his bedroom as you lay out on his bed. His robe is tied tight around his waist as he makes his way over to you. His nervous yet excited energy is palpable in the room as he steps between your spread legs.

"Don't be shy, let me see."

Slotted between your thighs you carefully pull at the string of his robe. His face bright red avoiding making eye contact with you as all of him is exposed. This is the first time you've gotten a moment to really look at all of him. He was beautiful, lean but powerful. Water droplets roll down his smooth skin like crystals. His breath gets more and more shallow, waiting for you to make a move.

"This is so embarrassing."

You press your hand right below his naval. Your hand warm on his cool skin as he lets out a hiss. His eyes screwed shut as you run your hands over his body. Everywhere but where he needed you, his need more visible as time passes.

"Patience my love, I'll give you what you want soon."

You sooth him as you grip the opening of his robe and pull him down over you as you lay down.

Sylus

You sit on Sylus' bed, reading something from his vast library in his mansion. He had slipped out the room some time ago to take his nightly shower. Before long you're sucked into this book, unaware of the footsteps making their way toward you.

"I'm quite fond of that title as well, though the ending is a tad disappointing. I'll have to introduce you to her other works."

You quickly reach for your bookmark, a piece of paper with a doodle of Sylus from Luke, and slam the book shut.

"You scared me-"

Your words trail off as you take him him. Hair dripping, chest exposed, and a robe tied dangerously low. You clear your throat and sit up. Still at a loss for words he closes the distance between you and gestures to the strings on his robe.

"Go ahead. I've got nothing to hide, sweetie."

You carefully grab one of the ties of his robe and watched as his whole form is exposed to you. A soft wow escapes your lips as you look him up and down. He grabs one of your hands and presses it to his chest, your hand warm on his cool body. A smug smirk sits on his lips and leans down to your ear.

"It's all yours kitten, use responsibly."

[court-jobi]

Hi! What are headcannons for izuku and wife reader in bed?

Oooo more headcanons for anon, comin' right up~ 18+ only, babes-- SFW here if you fancy!

A/N: Y'all are sending me the most darling asks! Due to board meetings and theatre prep I'm still working through this week's requests, on top of some long-awaited fics I can't wait to share... but I have a three day weekend ahead of me! thank you so much for all the inspo! keep em coming if there's something special you'd like to see~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader

SPICY MARRIED HEADCANONS!

Your Izuku is a fairly traditional man who's set on claiming you as a life partner first before getting fully intimate with you. The very night you proposed to one another ((#whenaskingfeelsright)) tested that restraint out of pure excitement for the future with you. His chest could have burst-- but also settled with such deep love, he's truly never slept better.

His mind might have rushed a million miles an hour with plans of your life together at the tip of his tongue, but the amorous dial was tuned down only by his lightning-sure concern for the concussion you were nursing that night... You wanted more from him, through lingering hands trying to draw him close and coax him into the bath with you...

"I don' think that's smart right now, love," Izuku purred down to you over the edge of the bathtub he drew for you, "want it as I might. I think we need to keep you nice and relaxed and calm while you recover for a bit. Is that ok?" "I am calm," you mumbled against his neck, laying a little kiss there. "I am relaxed. N'so are you. Yer so r'laxing." "M'sorry, baby, but I have to take care of you. All of you- including this big brain of yours," Izuku kissed it for good measure. "But believe me.. I want nothing more than for my beautiful wife-to-be to feel better enough to show her how much I wanna love on her..."

And love on you he can. Well.

It's not that you haven't tested the waters together. The day your makeouts turned heated -when you'd started grinding atop his thigh in a shallow attempt to get off, he'd been so flustered. It's clear from that early interaction; Izuku hadn't had a wealth of experience till you dated.

But once he realized he could bring these sounds out of you, make you melt into him, by his hand alone...

"Like... J-just touching you? That- this feels good? Yeah.. y-yeah, I can do that.. Tell me what feels good, love. Tell me just like this, m'listening.."

VERY vocal- very, very vocal. Not necessarily in volume, but in range. Izuku's voice flips at every little sensation, often. Every little graze of his cock will have him squirming in his seat. You can barely brush a hand or blow a quick rush of air along his tummy, and he will shudder involuntarily. He'd be so flighty and hyper aware of it at first-- at least until you assure him you're addicted to the sounds he makes, and that you love knowing how real those sounds are, hearing him moan with his whole chest- all for you.

Wanted low to no lights on at first... then you tried setting some mood with some smokey blue or purple ambient light, letting it bathe you both in just a bit of hue. Turns out, Izuku loved the change instead of cowering for the lightswitch: not simply for how ethereal it made you look, but how his insecurities just melted away in the light. Turns out, he was pinpointing every single one of his scars with cruel precision; and that's not how you view him at all. You helped him see light was nothing to fear-- he just needed the right filter of your love to let him see himself better.

And when you finally were gifted that private night all to yourselves after your getaway drive from the excitable venue space

-when you were settling onto your knees on the wedding suite's bed with exploring hands and barely any clothes

-when you asked Izuku ever so gently if he wanted to go to sleep or go to bed, he learned just how much he'd been missing out on:

You mean he can run his hands all the way up and down your bare back? He can scoop you up into his arms and just play with your tits? He can kiss every inch of you with nothing in the way-- and you LET him? He only ever wanted this with you, and has his dream fulfilled.

Loves anything praise. Whispering into his ear, raking through his hair with loving hands, pulling when you want him to look at you. He'll praise you endlessly too, especially when he's particularly lovesick for you.

"you're so warm... I've never felt this warm in my life. Oh God, mmmmmng, ugh y're just perfect, mmmmmng baby, b-babybslowdownicantbreathe NNNNG!!"

Izuku is gone over you. Slotting himself against you and shoving himself into the heat of you is a homecoming for him. He'll push and thrust with every breath he can manage, lost in every sensation while begging for more, begging for praise, begging for your touch like it's life-giving. Missionary is his die-hard favorite, but Lotus a very close second- for the views alone.

Morning sex? Izuku is down. Post-brunch playtime? Izuku is already having his 'second breakfast'. Naptime cuddles turn a bit more on the frisky side? Guess who's fault that is. Jumping to dessert before dinner? Guess who again. Izuku Midoriya holds no set 'spicy hours'; whatever his wife wants, his wife gets.

(personal take) but I'd think with how hard that man works, how much thought he puts into everything he does, how he ties such a great deal of his personal commitment and worth into his pursuits... it would be extremely hard to get Izuku out of 'work mode' and into a spicy headspace very easily.

He can't get turned on with just a single look at you. You're a sight for sore eyes at the end of the day- no doubt in mind about that! But he's gonna take some TLC before he's ready to jump into bed.

But give him a backrub, a hand massage, or the space to vent out all his leftover feelings and frustrations. Izuku will feel free, once it's all off his chest... then he'll look to you expectantly, ready and waiting for some beloved cockwarming. His chin will lift, some bidden tears may form at his lash line, and he'll look to you to relieve the rest.

"M'head's too full, honey. C'you make it stop? Please..?" "I just want you. Just want you." "Don' wanna talk about it anymore. Day's done. But this-- this, I want. This, I can do. I-I can be... I can be 'me' here.. right? You still love me like this?" "No one can settle me like you, sweet girl. Nothing comes close, feeling like this. Oh baby, please-- please can I have you? I'll be so gentle, I promise, please?"

When you're away for work (after your intimate life has been established), he truly thinks he's sore outta luck whenever he can't be with you in person... but you have other ideas to the first time you call him after the first four-day stretch of radio silence due to top-secret meetings... when he stretches while getting up from his seat and moans over the phone by accident...

"Careful how much noise you're making, sweetie," you have to tease him- just a little, "that does things to a girl."

"W-what?!"

"You heard me."

He's buffering. Chucking low, which only makes it worse.

"I do miss you," he offers shyly.

"I miss you too," you answer wistfully. "So much, my love."

"What have you got left? Two weeks?"

"Three, hun."

He hums a little agitated again, and you re-settle in your seat,

"'Zuku, what'd I just say?"

He's laughing incredulously now.

"Aw c'mon, you're turned on just hearing me stretch? I can't even complain how much I miss you?!"

"Nope. Not allowed.. unless you're trying to start somethin'~ "

He's quiet for a beat- off his guard. Izuku is scared to say something else, bc the soft noise in his throat is beating at him to come out. Had you been in front of him, you might have been able to see that shift.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Goodness, you're trouble..."

"You miss having trouble around~"

This makes him sigh, knowing all to well. "You know I do..."

"How much, teach?"

The formal petname both alarms and pleases him, you're sure about that. It's the first affectionate nickname you'd called him... but knowing he'd have to face his class of twenty with a straight face, the fact that you're sighing that title now gives him thoughts. Dirty thoughts.

"Don't call me that..."

"Awww why not?"

"Because my students call me that! And I have to be there in an hour and run them through evac drills today, and they're gonna be callin' after me, nonstop.."

"mmm so you're busy?"

...it's a trap... But Izuku falls straight into it.

You see it now, 13 hours away: Izuku, testing the accuracy of the clock on the wall with the one on his watch. Izuku ,sliding his morning coffee back onto the counter. Izuku, with the glow of morning sun still climbing through your windows in the front room, walking to make himself comfortable, calculating the riskiest wager and clearing his voice from away from the speakerphone.

You're rewarded for your soft voice that drips with desire; he's sat in his oversized papasan chair you two normally double up in for a nap- you can hear the creaks from the receiver, where he takes a knee before turning into it, already sinking his hand onto his partially unzipped fly.

He'll talk about anything and everything relating to you in order to make these next three weeks fly by faster. Anything to get you on a plane back home. Anything to get you back in bed.

"Not too busy for my pretty girl."

[darkbluekies]

Oooo okay for the Drabble I think Jerry and Silas cause you know why not also because i like them a little too much

Silas & Jerry drabbles: comforting a scared darling

Mafia!yandere OC & female!yandere!mafia

Warnings: graphic threats from Jerry

Silas:

First, you didn't want him to leave for a mission when you were supposed to go to bed, and when he did you wanted the lamp on. You and Silas had watched a horror movie not too long ago. Silas hadn't imagined that you would take it so hard.

He knows that he shouldn't have left you alone in the bedroom, but he has to have this meeting. He should have seen it coming.

"Boss, your spouse is here", his second in command says from the door. He's been standing by the wall to keep an eye over the room, to make sure that no one will try to do anything. "Should I send them away?"

He should have known that you wouldn't go to bed. He excuses himself and stands up, walking over to the door. You're standing outside, wearing one of his hoodies. This new fear of yours have brought out a clinginess for him that he can't resist. You're just too cute.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asks in a hushed tone so that his men won't hear and grab your arm. He knows why you are here, but he wants to hear you say it.

"I can't sleep", you whisper for him only. "I'm so scared, please ..."

"We've talked about this, little thing, nothing will hurt you. Everything we saw was made with cgi and rehearsed numerous times. Nothing was real. You know that."

You glare at him. How dare he belittle your fear? He senses his wrongdoings right away.

"No, I didn't mean that", he says quickly and moves closer. "Baby, listen, I'm just saying that what you are afraid of was never real. It can't hurt you."

"That doesn't mean anything. Just because you say that doesn't mean that I'll surprisingly stop being scared."

He can't resist your scared eyes. Silas sighs and hugs you.

"I have to do this meeting, it's urgent, I can't go to bed with you", he says, and then decides. "Okay, you'll sit next to me and stay here until the meeting is over. Eyes down, got it?"

You nod. Silas leads you into the conference room and lets you sit on a chair close by him. Your head is turned down, hand holding onto his pants. No mafia man is as scary as that fictional monster.

Jerry:

Darkness? Why are you araid of darkness? It's such a stupid thing to be afriad of, when Jerry is the definition of it.

"Don't be absurd", Jerry says and turns off the car. "Nothing will touch you as long as you are in the car!"

"Then let me keep the car light on", you say.

"No, it will attract threats."

"You said that nothing would hurt me in the car!"

"As long as you keep the lights off."

"Jerry, I can't deal with darkness."

"Y/N, I really don't have the time to fight with you. I have a man to kill if you have forgotten and the longer I am here, the further away he comes."

She sighs at your teary eyes.

"I'll be gone for a minute — two at most — and then I'll take care of you. Wait here — in the dark — for me."

With that said, she's gone. Those two minutes she's away, you've already started crying. She's back in a wit and is quick to take you in her arms.

"You're such a coward", she cooes and hides your face into her shoulder. "You have nothing to fear as long as I am here."

"But you weren't here! You were out killing some man!"

"For two minutes, baby. I'm here now. Breathe before you pass out."

"I fucking hate the dark ..."

"I know, baby, I know." She kisses your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere else for tonight. I'm going to take good care of you."

You cling onto her.

"Don't cry, you little baby", she whispers. "The darkness isn't anything to be afraid of, you know? It is actually a good thing, believe it or not. Without the darkness, i would be in jail by now. The darkness hides things you don't want to see. You should actually be thankful."

You sniffle.

"Oh, pull yourself together, baby", Jerry sighs. "I already told you that I am here and that nothing will happen. I will cut the throat of anything that tries to put their hands on you. Does that comfort you?"

"A bit ... maybe."

"Well, let me try again then, if you insist on being so fucking difficult. I will, personally, dig out the eyes of the naive enough to come close to you, in darkness or not. I will cut their hands of, braid their veins and create skipping ropes with them. Is that good enough for you?"

She laughs as you tug at your lips. Jerry might not be the best at comforting, but she will do everything for you.

[imonanotherlebel]

Hellooooo may I request Seventeen’s reaction when their SO tells them “I’m super horny right now and I can’t wait”

Oooo I like this....

Seventeen reaction when their S/O tells them, "I'm super horny right now, and I can't wait."

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

Warnings: Minors DNI, Sexual content

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

S.Coups

Seungcheol's eyes would darken immediately at your words. He'd bite his lip, leaning in close to your ear and whispering, "You're really testing my patience, aren't you?" He wouldn't waste any time, tugging you close and slipping his hand under your clothes right there. "Let's see how long you can keep quiet when I make you feel good."

Jeonghan

Jeonghan's smirk would be pure mischief, his fingers tracing down your arm slowly. "Oh, you can't wait? I like the sound of that." He'd pull you into the nearest secluded corner, his lips already on your neck. "How about I make you cum before we even get out of here? I bet you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Joshua

Joshua's usual soft smile would turn into something darker, more primal. "You're really in the mood, huh?" he'd murmur, his hands sliding under your shirt. "Then how about I take care of you right here, right now? Let me hear you say my name while I make you feel good then, baby."

Jun

Jun's eyes would light up with excitement, his hand already sliding around your waist. "You're super horny? Let's see how much I can drive you wild before we even get to bed." He'd tease you mercilessly, pressing you against the nearest wall and letting his hands roam, knowing exactly how to get you going.

Hoshi

Hoshi would grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can't wait, huh? Let's do something about that, then." He'd be playful yet demanding, pulling you onto his lap and sliding a hand up your thigh, his breath hot against your neck as he teases you. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

Wonwoo

Wonwoo would maintain his calm exterior, but his eyes would darken with desire. "You can't wait? I've been thinking about you all day too," he'd say, his voice low and rough. He'd guide you to a quiet spot, his touch growing bolder. "I'm going to take my time with you. I want to hear every sound you make."

Woozi

Woozi's eyes would flash with intensity as he smirked at you. "You're really that worked up? I guess I'll have to take care of that, won't I?" He'd be calculated in his approach, pushing you against the bed and letting his hands explore. "You're not going anywhere until you're completely satisfied."

DK

His usual cheerful demeanour would be replaced by something much darker and more intense. "You're super horny? Then I'm going to have to do something about that," he'd say, already pulling you close. He'd start slow, teasing you with light touches and kisses before getting rougher. "I'm going to make sure you're completely satisfied."

Mingyu

Mingyu's smirk would widen at your words, his eyes darkening with lust. "You're turned on, baby? What am I gonna do with you? Hmmm?" he'd tease, pressing you against the nearest surface. He'd waste no time getting you worked up, his hands exploring your body. "I'm going to make you cum so hard, you won't know what hit you." He said pressing his forehead against yours as his hand started to unbutton his shirt.

The8

Minghao's reaction would be subtle but intense. "You're super horny, huh? Guess I'd better do something about that," he'd say, his voice low and husky. He'd be methodical in his approach, taking his time to undress you slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin just enough to make you shiver. "Let's see how many times I can make you come."

Seungkwan

Seungkwan's playful attitude would shift to something more serious, his eyes narrowing in desire. "You can't wait? Then why don't you show me just how much you need me?" he'd say, pulling you close and kissing you deeply. He'd be intense, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you against him. "I'm not stopping until you're completely undone."

Vernon

Vernon's usual laid-back attitude would change in an instant, his voice dropping low. "You're that worked up? Guess I should help you out then," he'd murmur, pulling you close and running his hands down your body. He'd be slow and deliberate, making sure you feel every touch. "Let's take our time. I want to make sure you're completely satisfied."

Dino

Dino's eyes would darken with lust, his lips curving into a smirk. "You're super horny? Then I'm going to make sure you're satisfied," he'd say, already pulling you down onto the bed. He'd be eager yet thorough, making sure to tease you just enough before diving in. "I'm not stopping until you're begging for more."

[enhard]

nishimura riki — “late night wishes”

: late at night, you find yourself missing him like crazy. what better way to spend your night other than sneaking out together?

not proofread!

pairing: n.rk x gn!reader

cw: fluff, established relationship, cuddling, kissing, just ni-ki being as sweet as ever. (& jay teasing both of you)

——————————⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭——————————

you’re laying on your bed, waiting to fall asleep.. but how can you fall asleep when you can’t stop thinking about your dear boyfriend.

you squish your pillow between your arms and body, wishing that it was riki instead.. holding him in your arms and running your fingers through his silky hair.

the song “one and only” is playing in the background, hearing his voice isn’t helping the situation but.. you love this song. mainly because riki is your one and only.

you tell yourself not to text or call him since he might be busy or he might just want to rest after a long day, but lucky you, he decides to text you first.

from the second you hear the phone bing, you grab your phone to see who’s texting you at this hour.. you can only imagine the excitement on riki’s face when he saw that you read his message, thinking you’re already asleep.

my love🐥🩷

“hey baby, hope you’re not asleep yet.. i need to see you. i know its risky going out right now but i’m craving a kiss from you badly. 😓”

“riki you have no idea how much i miss you, i’ll do anything to see you rn. let’s sneak out.. i wantttt some boba 😜”

“fineee let’s get you your boba.. just because you’re so cute”

“hold on jay is calling me”

“oh he just told me that i need to go to sleep mannnn eff him seriously🙄”

“just ignore himmm ugh i don’t care i need to see you..”

“i’m getting dressed rn, you better be ready by the time i’m outtt”

“fine fine i have to be quick, if jungwon catches me it’s over☠️”

5 minutes later..

“ok i’m getting out right now, are you there?”

“yup, hurryyy it’s cold out”

read 23:06

anddd.. you suddenly see him running up to you. the smile on your face automatically forms, spreading your arms to hug him. he falls into your embrace.. his scent sucking you in even more.

“i missed you so much love.” he says immediately leaning in to kiss you. his leather jacket shining thanks to the fairy lights hung on the boba stand.

you smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “i missed you too. i actually couldn’t sleep because i was thinking about you.”

“oh really? you love me that muchhh? come on. let’s get you your boba.”

as you’re drinking your boba, he can’t help but admire you. he grabs your hand just to feel your warmth.

you end up walking through the park a bit, small lights from the stars shining in your eyes..

riki is holding you close trying to keep you warm. you finally finish your drink so you toss the empty cup into the trash.

“wanna sleep at our dorm?”

“huh?” surprised with his question, trying not to seem too excited.

“yeah i mean, we can sneak in. come sleep in my room, wanna?”

your eyes widen and you grab his arm tightly, getting all bubbly and happy.

“duhh!! come on come on lets go alreadyyy”

riki laughs at you while he’s getting dragged by the arm. —

you get to the dorm, quietly sneaking in, thinking you’re slick but. you get startled by jay’s voice coming from the living room.

“oh you lovebirds came back already?”

“shut up jay. come on baby let’s go.. i’m tired.” riki grabs your hand, walking you to his room.

“oooo if i tell jungwon about thisss”

“no you won’t.”

jay rolls his eyes and lets you guys go, drinking his tea like a middle aged mom.

riki immediately gets in his room, only having a dim light on, his bed looking mad comfortable for your sleepy self.

he gives you a hoodie of his to put on, which is over sized for you but.. it smells like him.

you both get in bed, cuddling so close together, his read resting on your chest. you play with his hair just like you wished almost an hour ago.. he’s whispering sweet nothings as he’s on the verge of falling asleep..

“go to sleep my love.. you must be tired..” you say smiling at him, seeing how his eyes grow heavy.

“i love youuu…” he mumbles.

you both fall asleep hugging each other, warming up yourselves under the blanket. you fall asleep admiring his pretty face.

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyyy hope you’re having a wonderful day! I wanted to request a Sparrow Ben Hargreeves one shot where like Y/N is oblivious to his feelings while he’s trying to drop hints?? (but failing because something always happens)

If not that’s totally fine!!! No pressure :3

oooo okay okay I can definitely try!! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶 ; alsonsorry this is so bad idk y I flopped on this 😔

SPARROW! BEN ; damnit

summary ; ben's always being cockblocked

warnings ; language, mentions of alcohol

disclaimers ; takes place post s3 - pre s4

word count ; 881

masterlist

You stand in the kitchen with Luther, making dinner with him for the family. Everyone, aka the Hargreeves and Lila plus their kids, had come over for a little reunion for their birthday. You weren't a Hargreeves, nor did you have powers, but they were your only friends, and they each saved your life at least once.

Ben approaches, leaning on the counter where you chop up some green onions, a pot and pan on the stove behind you.

"Hey" He smiles. "Whatcha up to?"

You shrug. "Chopping up some onions. What's up?"

"Nothing, really. Allison picked out a really dumb movie to watch and I can't stand it anymore" He answers.

You'd tuned out the family in the living room just a few feet away, focused on your meal prepping / creating. You look up at the TV, seeing the family sprawled around the furniture, kids playing with toys on the floor.

"Ben, stop, this movie is so good" You reply, turning back to your cutting board.

"It's some cheesey Hallmark movie?"

"Hush"

The two of you are silent for a moment before he speaks again.

"Your hair looks really nice today-"

"Fuck!"

The siblings quickly shoot up from their spots, Ben jumping a bit as you rush to the stove.

You'd accidently lit the chicken on fire. Somehow.

You quickly slam a lid over the pan of chicken, not wanting to fuel the grease fire any more than you had. You quickly shut off the burner, slowly looking back at Ben.

"Could you go get me more chicken from the store? I'll give you the money, I just need to look over all this stuff, sorry for asking on your birthday-"

"Yeah, sure!" He quickly replies. "Anything for you"

"Hey, Y/n" Ben smiles, "I brought you flowers"

"Awe, thank you!" You reply, accepting the gift as he enters your home.

"I kinda wanted to talk to you about something-"

Your phone rings, the number being the one of your workplace. You grab it, looking to him before accepting the call.

"I gotta take this really quick, sorry"

He nods, watching you trail into the other room, flowers still in hand. He stands by the door, unknowing of what to do in the moment. He soaks up his own silence, listening to your unintelligible speech behind the walls.

You return swiftly, a sorry expression on your face.

"I'm so sorry, Ben, I need to go in, it's urgent. Uhm, we'll talk later, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Be safe"

As he quickly exits your home, he mutters to himself.

"Damnit"

"I dunno, maybe I'm crazy," you chuckle, picking up another piece of food with your fork.

"I don't think you're crazy." Ben shrugs. "I think you're overworked and tired"

You both sit in a booth at a restaurant, a bright light shining over the table, warm food on your plates. You were eating out because you both didn't want to cook dinner at home tonight. Being alone sucked for both of you. If only you both had the balls to talk to each other.

But that's your problem, you oblivious fuck.

You shrug at his response. "I dunno, I think being alone, living alone, is slowly driving me insane."

"I mean, you could live with me," He mumbles, picking at his food.

"Hm?" You hum, having not heard him.

"Oh, nothing"

"...You sure?"

"Yeah"

The silence blankets you once more as you listen to the nearby commotion. The other families eating, the bustling workers, the music over the speakers.

You listened to everything but him, didn't you?

Today was the day. Ben was going to ask you out and he was not going to let himself or anything else get in his way.

Well, maybe red wine ruining his shirt would.

Why did he decide to take you to a bar in the first place is what we're all wondering. It didn't take much for him to get at least buzzed, which was his current state.

You decided to walk him back home, not wanting him to walk in the dark all by his lonesome. The walk is quiet, considering his slightly bruised ego. Jesus, he'd never get the chance to ask you at this point.

He slumps onto his bed as you lead him into his home, yelling into his mattress. You stand behind him, silent, finding this normal, because it was.

"What're you mad about now?" You sigh, throwing a pair of pajamas on him which you'd gotten from his dresser.

"I wanted to ask you out, and I have for a while, and every time I try it gets fucking ruined!" He slurs, yelling into his mattress once more.

You blink, confused. "What?"

"I like you, Y/n, Jesus," He groans, rolling over to look at you.

"Oh"

"'Oh' what?"

"I didn't realize" You shrug.

"I know. That's why I was trying to hint at it and even tell you, but you're oblivious, and things always have to go sideways at the wrong time," Ben speaks.

"I mean, I'd go out with you"

He raises an eyebrow. "Actually?"

"Yeah" You shrug. "Why not?"

"Oh my God, that took the biggest weight off my shoulders." He rolls off the bed on accident, landing on the floor.

You laugh.

"Damnit"

[papaya-twinks]

ok so what abt a lando one where there’s an age gap and he’s always been obsessed with her and like stalkers her, does research on the guys she brings home and goes out with basically totally dark stalker vibes. But the thing is she knows she has a stalker but no idea who it is bc whenever he confronts her he is wearing his racing helmet, and they always do even more each time they meet, liek first time they met he just caressed her but then like the 3rd time fingers her and 4th fucks her. THEN SOMEWEAR IN IT PLSSS. Lando has a sex tape of them and jerks off to it and thinks ‘fuck I can’t do this anymore’ kidnaps her and now she’s kinda like his toy but sugar daddy vibes bc he treats her well. And this is all consensual bc the reader wants an adventure as her ex bf was so vanilla ( which lando knows allll abt and explains in detail to her what she used to do with him) THATS ALOT IM SRRY U DONT HAVE TO DO IT

Warnings: Five year age gap (sorry, large age gaps make me squeamish), stalker, dark fic, 18+ kidnapping, sex, smut, 18+, consensual, sex tape, fingering, abusive partner (not Lando), sugar daddy, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m adding some biker!lando into this coz his F1 helmet is just cutsies but a black biker one? dark dark shit right there.

Lando had met you at an F1 race, where you’d been in the garage. Something about how darn innocent you looked with your pretty little dress, all young and…wow. And with the help of Oscar (who simply thought his teammate just had an interest in some girl), he found out about you.

Y/N Y/L/N. You were 19 years old, your favourite colour was pink, you were cute and innocent and sweet, and you loved bows and ribbons. How adorable. And so it began, Lando followed you on a burner account, and watched all your stories, pinpointing your exact location to be in Monaco.

Oh how perfect, you were in the same country as him and, conveniently, he had the whole summer break to play around with the information.

y/n

caption: spending this day alone but with a great cafe to make up for it :)

friend3: oooo, have fun 💗💗💗

-> y/n: will do, thank you x

friend2: looking chic, y/n!

friend1: enjoy yourself and try the chocolate cake 👀

user1: café can’t be as gorgeous as you are 😉

-> y/n: oh, thank you?

You had just brushed off whoever ‘user1’ was, not really paying much mind to unusual flirty message, and continued with your day at the cafe. However, you couldn’t shake the slightly unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

You’d seen this happen in movies, and you couldn’t deny that the slight tingle of adrenaline coursing through your body wasn’t enjoyable. And so you looked behind you, from your cake and your phone, your eyes locking with someone else’s.

Well, more you found yourself staring back at a helmet. A plain, slick black helmet, the person wearing it adorned in a leather black jacket and light blue jeans. You couldn’t see any features to help show you who it was, but it was kind of…interesting.

Did you confront the person? No, you’d seem desperate or stupid. So you went back to your food, and never once did it cross your mind that perhaps, user1 was your stalker. But you didn’t see the stalker anymore. And you were a little disappointed they’d moved on so quickly, but you too moved on, going on your dates, looking for love, as girls your age did.

“Jason? What the fuck?” Lando said, eyeing the new name at the bottom of your followers. He’d skimmed through them, making a note of each and every person on your Instagram list, but seeing a guy? He couldn’t deny the feeling of annoyance in his stomach.

And thankfully, he’d made note of the guy’s instagram enough to see where the date would take place. Foolish, foolish move. And once again, you were sitting at a chair opposite this man, Jason, when your eyes fell on the same, sleek black helmet once more. Holy shit. And quicker than it had come, it was gone. For fucks’ sake.

*1 month later*

You and Jason were dating now, and to say he was toxic was an understatement. “Jason, I’m just gonna go out with my friends,” you said, picking up your purse as he scowled from the sofa, still in his sleeping clothes. “Why? So you can see some guy under the guise of friends? Likely,” Jason scoffed.

He was frustrating. “I’m not seeing another guy, I’m going with my friends,” you said, repeating your words as he groaned. “For fucks’ sake, Y/N, no means no!” he yelled, his words making you flinch as you sighed and dropped your purse back down.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be a brat, fucking go!” Jason seethed, pushing you to the door. Well, at least you’d get to go. The meet up with your friends ended a few minutes later, and just as you were leaving..,the helmet. This time, you would confront him. Or her.

“Uh, hi,” you said, walking slowly towards the helmet-man. He was definitely muscular. You were standing in the middle of an alleyway, the darkness flooding round you as the helmet stared down at you from his spot. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He didn’t shake it.

You watched as he placed a hand in your shoulder, still not having said anything, and interlocked your other hand in his. He pushed a bit of paper into your hand, your eyes on the words. A phone number. Interesting. As soon as you looked back up, he was gone.

unknown user

y/n: hello

user: Hello.

y/n: who is this?

user: you don’t need to know.

user: come to the boulevard tomorrow at 9pm. leave jason behind. tell him your seeing a friend.

Holy shit x2. The air of mystique around whoever this was…was somewhat unsettling but at the same time, it was kinda a turn on. And wait, how did he know who Jason was? Oh, he’d done his research. Nice one.

And so you did what he said, managing to wriggle out of Jason’s possessive gaze, and you found yourself, waiting where this stalker had said. And there he was, in the same jacket and the same helmet, looking back at you. And perfectly on time, as well. Either he was desperate or…well, you didn’t know.

It was dark all round you, no one around and the streets unlit in this area. You watched as he reached out a gloved hand, taking your hand in his and pulling you between the trees, the mask of the night shielding you. He had strong hands.

You didn’t truly care what he’d do next, as he sat you down, the dry earth coating the back of your dress as he pushed it up, your thighs visibly shaking. A soft gasp left your lips as he trailed his hand over your core. You hadn’t worn panties. Good.

It was almost like he was complimenting you as he gave you a small smack on your thigh, before he removed his glove, dipping his finger between your folds as you moaned, eyes wide. “Shit…” you trailed off, your eyes wide as he added another, your knot building up. Fucking weeks of faked orgasms, and this one felt real.

He didn’t say anything, simply moving his hand faster, the tan skin of his fingers curling as he rubbed at your clit with his thumb. Who was this fucking angel? A loud moan left your lips as your orgasm flooded over you, his hand moving from between your legs, the remnants of your pleasure on his hand as he wiped it down his jacket, watching you for a second, before he left.

Part 1 of his plan: complete.

And the next day, you received yet another message from the same user, your eyes lighting up. It was an address.

user: [address], 10pm. no panties either.

And you arrived at the surprisingly grand hotel, showing the receptionist the room number and she gestured the way. You paused outside the door, thoughts of everything flashing through your head. Who was this man? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? Fuck it, you just needed another orgasm.

As you walked in, you failed to notice the little camera set up on the desk behind a bottle of lotion, your eyes on the man standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom. You didn’t say anything, neither did he, as he walked to you, lifting your dress once more and laying you down on the bed.

With one hand, he dipped his fingers into your core, the other hand undoing his belt as he dropped his trousers, taking your hand and wrapping it round the base of his (surprisingly large) cock. You heard the small sound of a groan, not enough to identify who it was, but you pumped his slowly, his own hand toying with your core.

Still, he’d didn’t remove his helmet. You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, one hand pressing down on your throat gently, the restriction of your airways adding to the pleasure, as his other hand pressed your stomach down to stop you from arching. You whined as he tugged your jaw forwards, forcing you to look at the small bump in your stomach.

Holy shit x3.

You gasped as he started moved, your lips parting as he moved his head down, lifting the visor and pressing immediately to your neck, so you couldn’t see anything but his lips as he licked at the supple, sweet skin of your collarbone. His hips picked up pace as you moaned, his fangs nipping at your skin as he peppered kisses to your neck.

You could feel the pleasure build up in both of you as he held you down, his hand moving from your neck to massage you clit in soft, slow circles, his other hand kneading the skin of your breasts. “Shit,” you muttered as he sped up, the knot in your stomach building faster and faster as you suppressed your moans, your eyes rolling.

He pulled out before he came, spilling the liquid onto your thighs as he bit down once onto your neck, sucking the hickey under your coat and out of sight, before fixing you up. And then he pushed you out the room. Oh god.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snapped, stepping into the shower with you. “Where did you get a hickey from?” he asked, your eyes wide. You’d totally forgotten about it. “You gave it to me last time we fucked,” you said coolly, trying to play it off. “Oh…right,” Jason muttered. Wow, he was stupid.

“Fuck,” Lando gasped, his eyes rolling as he tried to keep his attention on the video of the night before, his hand desperately trying to recreate the sensation of your tight cunt, how good it had felt having your warmth clenching round him. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered staring down at the menial drops of cum coating his hand.

And there was only one way he could have you all of himself. Kidnapping. But, how? You were walking down the boulevard once more, trying not to stare at the spot where you’d been fingered by the mystery man, clutching your bag as you walked down to a bakery, where you wanted to pick up your cakes.

And then, a hand on your mouth, followed by a cloth, and out you went.

……….…………………………

Your lashes fluttered open as a piercing yellow light hung over you, your eyes returning to usual as you looked round the room. You had an itch under your nose, and you reached your hand up, only to find your wrists tied together and to a radiator. What the fuck?!

And then you saw it, the pieces falling into place. A laptop placed perfectly so you could see it, with the video of the mystery man fucking you playing on. The helmet placed onto the side cabinet. A phone with ‘user1’ and the list of all your images he’d saved. What was this?

“Hello sweetheart,” a voice said, the second word dripping with almost condescending sarcasm as you looked up, your eyes locking on a pair of greenish-blue ones. He was the stalker? He was hot, though. “What are you doing, who are you?” you writhed against the ties as he scoffed.

“Fight all you want, then,” he shrugged, “I know you want this,”. You shook your head at his words, making him roll his eyes, before he bent down, untying the tie on your wrists and kneeling to your height. “Don’t wanna be here, is that what you want me to believe?” he smirked. “Then go on,” he gestured to the bedroom door.

“Run, then,”.

But you didn’t. You didn’t run. Though you knew you should, that this wasn’t right, but you didn’t move. “Exactly,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, running his tongue over the mark he’d left, a shiver rushing up your spine. “Get on the bed, then,” he said with a little sinister smile, but you obeyed.

“On your back, lift your dress,” the man said, directing you with a firm voice as you did what he said, your back against the mattress, your hands tugging the material of your dress upwards. “Good,” he eyed your body, “think a little introduction is in need,”.

“I’m Lando,” he said, his lips brushing your ear as he removed his jeans, “you’re Y/N. I know that,” he said, pumping himself a few times before aligning with your entrance as you gasped. “I know how Jason was a dick,” he continued, “I watched you fake those orgasms,” Lando mused, “and how that cunt of a ‘boyfriend’ never once gifted his perfect little girl anything,”.

You whimpered as he took your chin in his fingers, pressing his lips to your jaw, before sliding into you, his other hand taking a little box from behind you, sliding the ring onto your index finger as he rocked his hips. “Oh, god,” you gasped as he sped up, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I watched how that cunt couldn’t even make you cum, Y/N,” Lando smirked, “such a pretty girl and he couldn’t even make you cum,”. You whined at his words, your body bouncing a little as the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his as he slammed into you, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Cum for me,” he said, his teeth bared against your neck as you gasped, your whimpers filling his ears as he carried on. Oh what he fun he’d have with you.

A/N - I love this.

[nadvs]

what would be the first time that rafe calls reader baby? (sleeping w the enemy )

oooo it slips out in a moment of comfort 🤭 also this got so long omg but i love hurt/comfort too much!!

based on this fic, combined with this ask

a couple of months after she starts messing around with rafe, she meets a guy at the library. they double-booked the same study room and they start talking and eventually exchange numbers. she quickly develops a crush on him.

at first, she told rafe she’s giving up on relationships, ranting about how she’ll always just get her heart broken, but this guy is so sweet and sincere and interested, so she says yes when he asks her on a date, figuring she shouldn’t always expect the worst from men.

the night after the date, she and rafe are hanging out in her dorm and she tells him about how good of a time she had, that maybe this guy is relationship material.

rafe is a total dick about it. she didn’t expect him to be thrilled, but at the bare minimum, he could pretend to be happy for her.

“so, what?” he snips coldly after she tells him about how much fun it was. “you got a boyfriend now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asks, upset at his sudden bitterness.

they’re sitting on her bed. he thought she invited him over to hook up. but this feels like a break-up in a weird way.

“you said you weren’t looking for that,” he states.

he’s right. she was adamant about how much she didn’t want a relationship.

“i’m allowed to change my mind,” she replies. “i was just saying. it was one date. i don’t know where it’s going to go. why are you so mad?”

rafe doesn’t even really know himself. but the anger running through him is white hot. like always, he tells her what he’s really thinking, sparing no feelings.

“because we can’t do this anymore,” he admits. “not if you’re going to be someone’s girl.”

honestly, he would keep hooking up with her even if she was in a relationship. but he knows she would never cheat.

she’s quiet for a moment, looking down at her lap.

“we can still be friends,” she finally says, embarrassed when her voice starts to tremble. “unless you only hang out with me for…?”

rafe knows what she means. unless he only hangs out with her for sex.

his jaw tightens. he can feel it bubbling in him, his impulse to hurt, to be spiteful. it’s the only way he knows how to deal when someone makes him feel like this.

“you’re an idiot if you think we’ll stay friends,” he says. he watches the light leave her eyes. she’s not angry anymore. she’s just sad.

“wow,” she scoffs. “fuck you.”

“no, i mean,” he begins, “he’s not gonna want you hanging around with a guy you were hooking up with.”

“as if you give a shit what he wants,” she mutters. “you’re back-tracking because you know that was an asshole thing to say.”

it’s his turn to go quiet. finally, she sighs and stands and crosses the room to open the door.

“just go,” she says. tears prick her eyes and for once, she hides her feelings from him, looking away. “if you really think i’m only worth keeping around if i’m putting out, you can leave.”

she half-hopes he’ll fight her on it. but he doesn’t. he leaves.

when he gets home, rafe realizes he wasn’t actually honest with her. but that’s because he wasn’t even honest with himself. he’s jealous.

he thought they were on the same page about not wanting anything serious. but he can’t ignore the gnawing sense of inadequacy. she changed her mind. she’d be willing to be a girlfriend. but for someone else. this other guy is worth the reconsideration. and rafe isn’t.

he hates that he cares; he doesn’t even want a relationship. and he hates that she was right. it was an asshole thing to say.

a couple of weeks later, the guy she was seeing ghosts her. and she and rafe haven’t spoken. the only contact they’ve had is a few tense glances at the basketball court when he comes to play against her college. and he views all her snap stories. she doesn’t get why he even cares to check.

the rejection stings. she knows she shouldn’t look for validation in guys, and she tries her hardest not to, but why don’t relationships ever work out? is there something wrong with her?

rafe is still pissed. mainly because he misses her. they were messing around, but she really was his friend, too. there’s a hole in his life where she used to be.

when he sees her courtside one night, cheering for his opponents, he lets his eyes linger on her longer than he usually allows himself to since their falling out. he keeps waiting for the moment he won’t care about her anymore. but it’s not coming.

the whistle signals the end of the third quarter and finally, rafe pushes past his pride to go talk to her.

she notices her friends on the squad looking surprised at something over her shoulder. and then she turns to see rafe approaching her, his skin flushed from how much he’s been running across the court.

“you guys ever get any new songs?” he mutters, hoping she’ll ease into teasing each other like they always used to do.

“you mean cheers?” she says coldly. “sometimes.”

she averts her gaze, uninterested and bitter.

“how’ve you been?” he asks quietly.

“oh, great,” she answers. “busy being an idiot.”

rafe mumbles her name in irritation.

“i was right, though, wasn’t i?” he says. her face twists in disbelief. “not about that. about how he doesn’t want us hanging out.”

“i wouldn’t let a guy dictate who i can be friends with,” she replies. “but it doesn’t even matter. it didn’t work out.”

rafe searches her face.

“you didn’t tell me.”

“please,” she scoffs. “why would i? you only want me to call you to hook up. that’s all i’m good for, right?”

he huffs an annoyed sigh. but he doesn’t deny it.

“shouldn’t you be giving a pep talk to your team?” she says. she turns around, clearly done with the conversation.

his game ends in a loss. and honestly, rafe blames her. she got in his head. he was distracted.

he sees on her story later that night that she’s out at a restaurant. he feels like such a wuss for hoping she’s there with her girlfriends and not some guy. he can’t tell by the photo.

an hour later, he texts her: you still out? can i come over?

she doesn’t reply. maybe it was a date. maybe the guy’s over at her place. after ten minutes, he texts to clarify: just to talk.

she gives in and replies: fine. i’m home.

when rafe knocks on her door, he’s weirdly nervous. she answers it with a scowl, still clearly upset.

“just to talk, huh?” she says.

rafe rolls his eyes and steps into her dorm. he can smell her perfume. her room. it’s so fucking corny but the way she smells makes him feel so damn comfortable. he didn’t know he could miss a smell.

“yeah,” he says gruffly. he settles on the edge of her bed. it makes his chest ache when she sits at her desk instead of next to him.

“then talk.”

“my bad, alright?” he says tensely. “i’m sorry. you’re not an idiot. i shouldn’t have said that. i was just…”

rafe can’t say the word jealous out loud. it’s so heavy.

“you were what?” she says.

“pissed that this was ending,” he finally mutters. “i don’t… like not having you around.”

she runs her fingers over the back of her chair, unsure of what kind of territory this conversation is falling into.

“well, this didn’t have to end. we could’ve at least stayed friends,” she says.

the sound of the word could’ve is so final. rafe hates it. it feels like she’s committed to cutting him out of her life. and it’s agonizing, the thought of permanently losing someone who he can joke around with, who always gives it to him straight, who he has so much fun with that time stops.

“we could’ve?” he mutters. it’s humiliating how quiet his voice has gotten.

“yeah,” she says, not sensing how harsh her words were. “and i already told you. it didn’t even work out with him, so we fought for nothing.”

she looks down, her features falling with sadness. rafe studies her. his sense of protectiveness sparks like a fire.

“what’d he do?” he mutters.

“he just stopped talking to me,” she says with a defeated laugh. “i thought things were going well. i don’t…”

“what?” he asks.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admits, her glossy eyes landing on his.

rafe is shit at emotions. he doesn’t know what to do when he cries, let alone when someone cries around him. he sticks to what he knows with her. straight-up honesty.

“nothing’s wrong with you,” he tells her.

“yeah, it is,” she says. “guys never want to stick around. and i don’t mean you. i mean guys i’m dating. at some point, i have to look at the common denominator. i must be boring.”

“no, baby, you’re not boring,” rafe says. then he looks away and breathes in slowly. what an embarrassing slip-up.

“you’re not boring,” he repeats. “you’re…” every word that comes to mind to describe her, amazing, beautiful, special, it’s all feels so weird for him to say out loud. especially after he just called her baby.

“you’re the best.” it’s corny, but he’ll be corny if it’ll make her feel better. “i wasn’t keeping you around only for… that. we can just be friends.”

her lips quirk up in a small smile. the best. he’s never given her a compliment like that.

“can an idiot be the best?” she mumbles.

“i didn’t mean that. i’m sorry.” he purses his lips. “and you’ve called me worse.”

“as a joke,” she counters. “you know that.”

“yeah,” rafe relents. “i do.”

“never called you baby, though,” she teases, the ice between them finally melting.

“listen…” rafe sighs, scratching the back of his neck. he needs to change the subject. he doesn’t know why he said that. “i’m just saying it’s not on you that so many guys are losers. he’ll regret messing things up with you.”

she takes a moment to let his words sink in. she knows he really, truly believes that.

“thanks,” she says. “maybe you are a good friend.”

“you thought i wasn’t?” he asks. he loves that she’s smiling again. that they’re joking around again.

“let’s see… a good friend would take me out and buy me a sweet treat right now,” she says with a shrug.

rafe stuffs his hand in his pocket to fish his car keys out.

“where are we going?” he sighs, pretending to be annoyed. in reality, he’s so damn happy to be good with her again. even without the prospect of sex.

“i’ll decide in the car,” she says, standing up. “and i’m still mad at you, just so you know.”

“you’ll get over it.”

“maybe i won’t,” she says. he follows her out the door, pacing down the long corridor with her. “what then, baby?”

“shut up,” he laughs, embarrassed, nudging her shoulder.

“never,” she replies. and he’s glad, because he doesn’t want her to shut up. honestly, he doesn’t want her to ever stop talking to him.

he’s never going to let that much time pass again after a fight. because fights are inevitable. they’re too similar not to butt heads. but he’s not putting himself through the torture of allowing her to step back from his life. he kind of needs her at this point.

as a friend, he tells himself. that’s all. but maybe he’s doing it again - lying to himself.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 4

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

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 12.5K

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

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

Author's Note: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela

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Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.

You needed tea, warm tea. 

You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldn’t find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment. 

Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes you’d seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form. 

“Um, hi,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn’t be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded. 

“Well, it is the weekend,” Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.”

You didn’t wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you should’ve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet. 

You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didn’t find out.

The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.

The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You weren’t dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, you’d been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasn’t he the one to draw such a clear line between you two? 

Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongi’s hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how he’d treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.

Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldn’t afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him. 

Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention. 

Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance. 

“Do you, um, do you have any tea,” you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, “Sorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? There’s also coffee and juice if you want that instead.”

You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, “That’s fine, I’ll just have some warm water, thanks,” and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug. 

Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasn’t too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi. 

Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongi’s presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadn’t spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.

Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didn’t seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadn’t really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps. 

His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.

“Um, thank you,” you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldn’t handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.

“No problem,” he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongi’s subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, “Would you like some as well?

Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, “Right, well I’ll just, um, finish doing this.”

God, could you be any more awkward?

Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.

You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongi’s presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongi’s form on the couch, he called out to you.

“Y/N, can you sit for a moment?”

You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time you’d sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue. 

“Some of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you don’t mind, are you able to stay in your room?”

“Oh, sure,” you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing. 

“Thanks,” Yoongi almost smiled at you, “They’ll be here around seven.”

“Sounds good,” you said while standing up, you couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didn’t notice Yoongi’s gaze lingering on your retreating form.

Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve. 

Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldn’t exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongi’s home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldn’t relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind. 

Why did he get so close to you? Wasn’t he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didn’t see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you. 

Even though you’d resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that. 

Not that you thought that was going to happen. 

After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseok’s doing. 

You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseok’s number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Well, hello Mrs. Min,” came his teasing voice. 

You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, “Shut up, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, recalling your husband’s cold and calculating exterior.

“Well, what’s up, how’s the first morning? Are you sore,” Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself. 

“I guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,” you responded, massaging your aching feet. 

“No,” Hoseok laughed, “Are you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!”

“Gross,” you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, “We did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?”

“That’s your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,” he hummed on the other end, “The opportunity was right there.”

“Dude, c’mon, he can barely stand me. We wouldn’t have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.”

“You’ll get there,” Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.

“How’s your apartment hunting going,” you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.

“Smooth,” he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, “Good, I think. I’ve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Tell me about it. I don’t know how Yoongi affords this place.”

“He probably owns it.”

“Damn, you’re probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,” you half-joked.

Hoseok only scoffed in response, “As if you’re not literally the daughter of chaebols.”

You hummed, nodding, “Touche.”

“Oh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, he’s just finishing up his MBA so I’m going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,” Hoseok excitedly detailed.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure he’ll say yes,” you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard he’d worked and if this other guy knew anything, he’d say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat. 

“How is everything else,” Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.

“Tell me about it,” he said quietly, encouraging you.

“Alright,” you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when you’d gotten to Yoongi’s penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later. 

Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, “How cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.”

You shook your head, laughing along, “I guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time I’m falling in love as a teenager or something. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,” Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, “Having a crush isn’t all that immature, it’s the way you act on it that can be.”

“You’re surprisingly profound,” you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged. 

“Well, I have my moments,” Hoseok chuckled, “But seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And it’s okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smiled, he really did have his moments. 

“Anytime, Y/N-ie,” Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.

“But I do have to go now. I’ve got some calls to make about my old apartment. They’re trying to keep my deposit,” he huffed.

“Yikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,” you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap. 

After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.

Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you weren’t connected to the wifi. 

You should’ve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.

Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution. 

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?

You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didn’t give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the desk’s surface. 

Yoongi:

Sure. It’s worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.

You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it. 

You: 

Thank you. Have fun with your friends.

You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadn’t vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read. 

Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.

You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, you’d bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, that’s what you hoped. 

Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations. 

Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasn’t an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongi’s friends had arrived already, and you didn’t know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them. 

Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongi’s. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food. 

You couldn’t remember Yoongi’s address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal. 

To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongi’s friends further into the penthouse. 

After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjin’s signature laugh in the living room. 

Oh, that’s right, Yoongi didn’t want you to come down.

You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were. 

Ah, fuck it.

You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongi’s group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately. 

“Yah, Seo Y/N,” he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.

You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.

“Why are you over there,” Seokjin slurred, “Come join us! You need to drink!”

You began shaking your head before you were interrupted. 

“Noona!”

Jeongguk’s bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction. 

“Come join us, noona, please,” Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.”

You ignored his and Seokjin’s protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food. 

“Woah, is that fried chicken,” you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs. 

“C’mon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesn’t mind,” Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongi’s stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse. 

“Sorry, oppa, I think I’m just gonna head up. I’m kind of tired,” you responded, shying away from Jeongguk’s insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken. 

“You’re so boring, Y/N, you’ll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,” Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon. 

“Let her be, hyung, you can’t force her,” Namjoon smacked Seokjin’s shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs. 

You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongi’s icy stare. Seokjin’s cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room. 

Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took. 

The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadn’t come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored. 

Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongi’s decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongi’s frosty exterior. 

“Ms. Seo, I think your TV is here!”

You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasn’t necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didn’t have much of a choice. You couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help. 

“Coming,” you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Lim’s conflicted stance, hands on her hips. 

“What’s wrong,” you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim for help. You’d managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight. 

It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way you’d be able to get this up on your own. 

“Don’t try it by yourself, dear,” Mrs. Lim soothed, “You’ll hurt your back and end up just like me.”

You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, “Yeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, “What happened to respecting your elders? You’re quite warm though, would you like some cold water?”

You nodded appreciatively, “Yes, please. Thank you!”

Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?

Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully. 

“Mrs. Lim,” came Yoongi’s voice, “Is there something in the doorway?”

“Oh, my bad,” you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After you’d pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi. 

He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod. 

“What’s all this,” he questioned.

“I’m just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,” you wrung your hands together nervously.

Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water,  “Oh, Mr. Min, you’re home!” Handing you the glass, she continued, “Ms. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. It’s much too big for just her to handle and I can’t help because of my back. So unfortunate, isn’t it?”

You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water. 

Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, “Give me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.”

You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongi’s offer to help. He didn’t spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile. 

“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, there’s japchae and banchan to cool you down. It’s just about time for me to head home anyway,” Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron. 

You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, “Mrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?” You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes. 

She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, “Use this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.”

You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself. 

Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, “Besides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!” She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didn’t give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Lim’s exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit. 

“Where did Mrs. Lim go,” he asked, starting his descent to the living room. 

“Um, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,” you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze. 

Yoongi simply nodded, “That’s fine. Shall we get started, then?”

You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other. 

“I’ll walk backward, so just let me know when I’ve gotten to the stairs,” he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands. 

You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous it’d make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily. 

You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since you’d arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook you’d stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongi’s sleek, grown-up look. 

“Um,” you started, wanting to take Yoongi’s gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, “Thank you for, ah, helping out.” 

Yoongi’s head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.

“No problem,” he responded, “I like your room.”

You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether. 

“It’s cute.”

You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldn’t like it before. Furthermore, describing it as ‘cute’ seemed so unlike him. You weren’t sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

You’re glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you whole?

Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, “Would you like to have dinner then?”

You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadn’t had a meal together since you’d moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you. 

“Unless you’re eating later,” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised at your delayed response. 

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I’d love to have dinner now.”

Way to sound over-eager.

The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Lim’s kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as she’d learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi. 

“Were you told about the gala tomorrow evening?”

You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadn’t been a fun phone call. She’d made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three. 

“We’ll go together, we’ll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,” Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready. 

“Alright then, that’s settled,” Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food. 

“Oh, wait,” you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, “Do you have a dark blue tie?”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

Your cheeks heated, “My mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.” It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances. 

Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, “That’s fine. I’ll be sure to wear that tie then.” With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.

Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the day’s events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongi’s plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room. 

You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead. 

At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.

When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You must’ve worked late into the night because you didn’t remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway. 

Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didn’t notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you bowed slightly, “I didn’t see you there. Good morning.”

Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasn’t done interacting with you, startling you to face him. 

“Do you have any plans for before the gala?”

“Yes, I’m going to an art show nearby. But I’ll be back in time to get ready,” you rushed to answer. 

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup. 

“Oh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but it’s a ticketed event and they’re sold out,” you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly. 

Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah, right,” you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display. 

Of course, he wasn’t asking to go with you, how dense could you be?

Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongi’s judgemental gaze lay. 

Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book you’d recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadn’t managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading. 

Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water. 

After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didn’t need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didn’t get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute. 

You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

You:

image attached

art gallery fit 💪

Hoebi:

you look like my wife

*future wife

Joo-nie:

omgg step on me queen

so when are you attending the met gala 🤨

You:

omfg it’s just a dress you guys

also i better see you at the gala tonight joo

bring hobi as your date

Joo-nie:

ew no

you can bring him as yours tho

You:

i have a literal husband who’s my date

Hoebi:

girls girls, don’t fight there’s enough hobi to go around

Joo-nie:

die

You:

nevermind, you can stay home

Hoebi:

you guys are so mean 😭

i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich

Joo-nie:

omg good luck! let us know how it goes!

You:

yes def do

i’ll see you tonight joo

Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadn’t eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didn’t need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs. 

Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, “Going to the gallery?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, “You, uh,”

You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.

“See you then,” he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more. 

“Have fun.”

You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, “Thanks, I will! See you tonight.”

With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasn’t too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day. 

You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three. 

You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didn’t have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant you’d lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line. 

“Seo Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples. 

“Oh, Namjoon-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be attending this as well,” you said, smiling and bowing politely. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!”

“I know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,” Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh. 

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now,” you smiled, about to turn back around. 

“Would you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head. 

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasn’t allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldn’t you two walk around together? 

“I’d love to,” you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions. 

Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, “Great, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but he’s super flaky.”

You chuckled, “Same here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasn’t even here, but he wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

“Hobi, that’s Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,” Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin. 

“Yes,” you nodded, “He’s planning on moving back here so he’s all busy trying to get that sorted.”

“Well, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,” Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you. 

You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasn’t good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, “I’d really like that, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, “You can drop the formality, we’re the same age, right?”

You nodded, laughing slightly, “I guess I’m just used to it. I’d really like that, Namjoon-ah,” you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You could’ve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge. 

The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation. 

At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, “You’re such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope you’re having a fun date!”

The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didn’t show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.

Namjoon’s company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants. 

A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongi’s building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongi’s apartment in favor of Namjoon’s calming presence. 

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring,” Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step. 

You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, “Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to it. It’s kind of weird, being married that is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure Yoongi hasn’t been the most receptive either.”

“Understatement of the year,” you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, “He’s so hard to read.”

“He’s like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise he’s a really great guy once you get to know him, he’s just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. He’ll warm up to you, eventually,” Namjoon said, patting your shoulder. 

“Eventually,” you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.

You had reached Yoongi’s building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon must’ve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, “You know, as much as Yoongi’s dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I haven’t seen him without his ring once since the wedding.”

You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, “I’ll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.”

Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongi’s floor. You weren’t really sure what to make of Namjoon’s words. 

Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, you’d dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your “rich people” watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi. 

It wasn’t a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongi’s side. You certainly didn’t feel like it, but your mother didn’t really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance. 

Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained. 

Everything was tiring. 

You didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty. 

You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoon’s words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself. 

You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you should’ve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didn’t have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself. 

You really didn’t want to go to this gala.

As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.

The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side. 

He hadn’t said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, you’d consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it. 

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance. 

The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a ‘thank you’. Yoongi didn’t release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following. 

“Good to see you could make it,” your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongi’s hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these. 

The questions were repetitive, to say the least. 

“How are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?”

“How’s the business, Yoongi?”

“When are you two thinking of having kids?”

“Are you still working for that game company?”

It was exhausting, but Yoongi’s warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, you’d made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadn’t let go of you. But you weren’t complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongi’s musky cologne was intoxicating enough. 

Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldn’t protest aloud. 

You figured that was the end of Yoongi’s image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on. 

You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongi’s hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely. 

“Where’s Yeonhee noona,” Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjin’s wife pulling you into the conversation. 

“She’s at home with Hwannie,” Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadn’t really shut up about him since. You’d seen Yeonhee at your wedding and she’d looked equally as elated, practically glowing. “I wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,” Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group. 

Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadn’t been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed. 

“Great, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,” Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze, “I think that’s Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! He’s an ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, “Yeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s comment only made you frown further. You hadn’t really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldn’t think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you. 

“You look really pretty,” Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words. 

“Thanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,” you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongi’s burning palm against your skin. 

“Oh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? There’s this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,” Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing. 

“We should totally check it out! I’m always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldn’t,” you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation. 

“You can never have enough, or at least, that’s what I tell myself,” Namjoon chuckled, “There’s also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think you’d be up to check it out?”

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’d love to. Just send me the details.”

“I don’t think I actually got your number earlier,” Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone. 

“Oh, right, that would probably help,” you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you. 

Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadn’t noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table. 

“Have you two gotten close,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back. 

“Oh, um, we met at the art show earlier,” you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought. 

“Ah, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,” Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, “Your wife’s really nice, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, “I have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?”

The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didn’t need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You moved to retort Yoongi’s absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile. 

“I don’t really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,” he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongi’s odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you weren’t your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash. 

You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your father’s age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired. 

But what did you care? You shouldn’t care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldn’t help it. Maybe you’d ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back. 

The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. He’d even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something you’d been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, “I saw you put on the ring, I’m glad.” 

His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out. 

You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.

“Are you ready to go?”

You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence. 

During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongi’s behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well. 

You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.

Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasn’t a fair comparison, you didn’t outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongi’s other conquests. And there wasn’t even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with. 

Well, mostly. You couldn’t deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you weren’t going to think about that too hard right now. 

The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didn’t want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more. 

Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didn’t get to dictate who you became friends with and he didn’t have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You weren’t responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him. 

It’s his problem to figure out why he’s acting so bizarrely. 

Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely? 

He couldn’t understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? It’s not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now? 

He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music they’d never release together. He shouldn’t be upset that you’re becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?

As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times he’d seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, you’d looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts he’d seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you weren’t wearing a bra. He’d averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen. 

Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadn’t wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldn’t erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind. 

When he’d arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. He’d been surprised by how much he’d liked the cutesy embellishments you’d added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming. 

Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when he’d left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep. 

He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If he’d finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldn’t stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning. 

You’d looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirt’s neck slipping down your shoulder. But, he’d kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. You’d looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that you’d worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so. 

Well, why should he? He’d been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldn’t give you mixed signals. 

The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair. 

Maybe he was just horny.

Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! He’s just distracted by you because he hasn’t been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else, he wouldn’t allow it to be. 

Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved. 

His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didn’t want to consider what it meant if they weren’t.

previous / masterlist / next

[silkscream]

pure smile snake venom

ੈ✩ suguru geto x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, dom!suguru, emotional manipulation, fingering, dubcon, blood, yandere behavior, edging, multiple orgasms, choking, loss of virginity, religious imagery

ੈ✩ wc: 5.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: oooo i am soo normal about cult leader suguru. art by @/wonowono__3 on twitter

He finds you unconscious. 

He feels you before he sees you – your cursed energy permeates the air with dread. He can feel it in his throat, as if the hand of his past self materialized to strangle him, reminding him of desperation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, not anymore.

It also felt like death. 

When he finds you, your body would have easily been looked over, small as you were compared to the vastness of the forest around you. Insignificant, left to rot. 

When he’d looked at your face, there was recognition in his chest despite not seeing you before. He hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a while. He barely had anyone that wasn’t at arm's length to him, even his closest devouts, yet something about the delicateness of your face enticed him. A predator finding lost prey.

He finds it mildly sacrilegious to touch you when you’re in this state, but your shirt was saturated with so much blood that it took him a bit to realize that the color of the fabric was supposed to be white and not merlot-red. He lifts your shirt, grimacing at its dampness, and finds a wound that looks fatal. 

He looks at it and feels the residuals of a nasty curse. By the time he tracks it down, he tortures it with all of the energy inside of him. 

__

You wake up on a futon you don’t recognize. You don’t remember a thing. 

You wince as you attempt to rise, clutching your side. You’re topless, clothed only by gauze covering your chest and ribs. 

You exhale, closing your eyes. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you see a face with a vacant smile. You are met with that very smile when you open your eyes again.

“Welcome back.”

You blink. He must be the stranger that saved you from — well, what did he save you from? You were used to spirits, took years to adjust to that fact, and have even killed a few yourself. But when you feel the pain in your side, nothing comes to mind.

“You… saved me?”

“I suppose so. It was pure luck that I happened to stumble upon you.”

“Where — where am I?”

He tells you it’s his temple, then he tells you his name. When he asks for yours, you’re reluctant. Eventually, you tell him. If he was luring you into his trap, you suppose you had fallen into it against your will by pure chance. It was probably better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you have anyone who will miss you?” 

You don’t say anything. You think of the dingy studio apartment you’ve been subletting for a few months. You try to conjure up a narrative of belonging in your head that would give you any reason for you to leave. Nothing comes.

You shake your head.

__

Geto Suguru is the first person to tell you that you’re magic.

You knew that, in some way, ever since you were a child. Your intuition made you a strange child, always slightly cryptic with a sense of maturity that made you seem like a vessel for a sad ghost. Your visions would only get stronger – small bursts of light whiplashing through your mind into images, rapid like a supercut. The things you saw would come true. 

This is what makes you a good weapon. Ironically, you had always thought of yourself as weak. 

He was captivating the way a cult leader should be, and you had fallen under his spell. It was his robes and the regal way he carried himself, maybe. You don’t think he’s bad — he’s made you important, and you’ve never felt wanted before. You were a recluse before Suguru found you. Barely the shape of anything, so he found it appropriate to mold you into something to call his.

Suguru doesn’t tell you much. You know that he probably lies to you.

He holds too much power for you to question it. His cursed technique is daunting and his grace is enviable, but he’s mostly kind. You help him when he finds curses, usually the more powerful ones that could threaten him. Able to see into the near future, you can sense their next move each time. It makes it easy to subdue them to Suguru’s advantage.

You also find that he is regarded as something of a saint to non-sorcerers. Something twists in your gut when you watch his exorcisms, seeing the immediate relief in the faces of his followers. They look at him with so much adoration that it makes you self-conscious that you share the same disposition.

He tells you you’re his favorite and the feeling dissipates.

You like how ritualistic living in the temple is. Breakfast at the same time each day. Tea in the garden. Rolling in the gross with bruised knuckles.

You take a liking to his girls. They remind you of yourself, but they lack the meekness you had as a teenager. The twins adore you almost as much as they adore Suguru. They are endlessly fickle, as most teenage girls are, but their devotion is worn candidly in the way they carry themselves. You wonder how they can be so obedient, but you realize that they have known nothing else. 

It’s a quiet luxury. You like to pretend that you’re some sort of priestess, sometimes. You had never been as reverent as your mother, but you think that there is peace in serving a God.  If not Suguru, then some higher power must’ve granted you another chance at life, even if your new life meant mundane piety. 

You liked routine – it fit you. You did your part in the temple and Suguru would reward you with gentle praises. You were only one of few sorcerers in his current entourage, so you felt special. 

Despite this, something felt messing. You often wish Suguru could cast out the malaise inside of you, but you’ve carried it in the pit of yourself for as long as you could remember. Even in your pious bliss, you start wondering if the curse that nearly killed you left a part of itself within you. Each day is the same until you wear thin.

When the string finally breaks, you find him with blood on his hands in the temple’s omoya.

It’s not the blood of a curse, either. It’s dark crimson, such as the same blood that is inside of you, and on the tatami mat lies the lifeless body of a servant. 

Shin, his name was. He wasn’t much younger than you, but he had the spirit of a boy, always able to make you laugh before he served you breakfast. He had arrived only a few months after you had, citing suicidal ideation as a catalyst to seeking Suguru’s services. Once treated, he had felt larger than life. 

And now, his face is frozen in time – the look of sheer fear. 

“Useless monkey,” Suguru tuts, wiping the blood off his face. You’ve seen that look on his face before — when he’s cruel and callous in battle. When he snaps the neck of a special grade curse before he eats it. 

You run to the bathroom to vomit.

When you emerge, one of the twins looks at you curiously. Mimiko. She smiles at you serenely, her eyes flickering with taunt. 

“Is everything alright, Y/N-san?”

“Y-yes,” you nod. “Just a bit under the weather.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Her eyes light up for a second. “Oh, could you be pregnant? Nanako and I really wish there was another kid around—“

“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” you cut her off, shocked. Did she think you and Suguru were… together? Did she think you were his concubine?

“Ah. I can get the servants to prepare some ginger tea for you.”

“No need, Mimiko,” you shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I just… need to get some air.”

She leaves you alone as you walk towards the pagoda. You feel another wave of nausea when you remember Shin’s lifeless eyes. The blood on his throat. 

You stare at the sunset. It’s been a long time since you’ve left the temple of your own volition. Suguru keeps a tight leash on you nowadays, blaming the unpredictability of your power. Bitterly, you realize that you’re only ever in town alongside him. 

Sometimes, you miss being a stray.

His presence is immediate. When you turn, his long hair sways in the breeze as he flashes you a cat-like smile. 

“Thought you were trying to run away from me,” he murmurs, walking towards you. “But you’d never do that, would you?”

“Just… enjoying the view.”

He looks at you, amused. It feels belittling. 

“I apologize. I thought Nanako had locked the door.”

Your blood stills. He saw you.  

“I thought you only killed curses,” you stammer. For the first time, his presence makes you feel unsafe. 

“I never said that, sweet girl,” he chuckles. He plays with a loose strand of your hair. “Humans are beneath us, you know that. Humans are the reason curses are created. Curses just like the one that nearly killed you.”

You don’t have it in you to protest. He’s gotten closer to you now. A hand on your waist. His lips kissing your hairline in a way that makes you feel like a child again.

“I— I liked him,” you stutter. 

“Mm,” he hums. “He liked you, too. A bit too much if you ask me.”

You stay silent. Only the sound of cicadas fill the air. 

“It’s not your fault,” he grins. “You charm anyone you meet by default, you know. But sometimes, these followers… they want to threaten our mission. Sometimes, they’re paid off by sorcerers who are targeting me to gather intel. And darling, when there’s a target on my back, there’s a target on yours.”

You pull away from him with wide eyes. His face is neutral. So naive, you are. He was only doing you a favor, but a sheltered girl like you trusts too easily. 

“Just remember. I will be the only one to protect you.”

__

He finds you in the garden.

You’re surrounded by wildflowers, your yukata loose enough on you that it falls off your shoulder when you sit up to greet him. The sight of your bare skin tokes the fire in his stomach. He’s dressed more casually tonight, in a plain kimono as opposed to his usual gojo-gesa.

“Enjoying the fireflies?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He notices the dark circles under your eyes. Your smile is tired now. You stare blankly as if you’re in a trance. 

“You’ve been a bit off lately,” he muses. “Something on your mind?”

You blink at him in surprise, almost regretting it once you make eye contact. The hint of a lazy smile is there while his eyes scrutinize you. It always feels like he can see right through you, observing you just before he eats you whole. 

“No, Geto-sama,” you shake your head.

He laughs, rubbing your shoulder. “So formal with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” you knit your brows. You had been at the temple for less than a year. You weren’t intimate with him enough to warrant that. You weren’t intimate with him in the way your heart longed for.

“Not with me. Never with me.”

“Suguru.” You mull over the taste of his name on your tongue. The shape of it in your mouth. “I’m okay, Suguru.”

You feel pathetic under his gaze. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, sensing the apprehension in your voice. The slight quiver of your bottom lip as you avoid his face.

“I’m just… recovering. From my technique, that’s all,” you say hoarsely.

It’s not a complete lie — the intensive training with Suguru led you to discover that you could bend time and space to your will in small aspects. Teleporting short distances became a new tool for your arsenal. It was still difficult to manage and exhausting to exert. The other day, your nose had bled so much that you almost thought your membranes would burst completely.

“You’re exhausting yourself,” he says gently, rubbing a hand to the small of your back. “But you’re improving rapidly. I’m proud of you.”

Warmth floods your body at his praise. It was too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, and you were starting to hate it.

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You take a moment of reprieve when he asks this. Powerful? Despite being a sorcerer and wielding the ability to exorcise the monstrous manifestations of human suffering, you did not feel powerful at all. You never have. If anything, you only felt useful.

“Not really.”

“You should,” he smiles. “You’re getting stronger. We’re untouchable together, you and me.”

You and me echoes loud in your brain. Stitches itself into every crevice unwittingly. 

“Ge– Suguru,” you swallow thickly. “Is that why you saved me? Because you wanted me to get strong?”

“Yes,” he nods without hesitation. “I saw potential in you.”

“Is that all I am? Potential? I’m just– just a vehicle for you?”

He leans over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His own hair is down, for once, and you can smell his white tea shampoo as his shoulder touches yours. It almost soothes you.

“You aren’t just a tool to me, you know that,” he sighs, looking at you with intent. “I like taking care of you.”

You nod slowly as you look towards the sky. His words aren’t enough to fill the emptiness inside you. His proximity to you makes your chest constrict in the slightest bit, creaking the floorboards of your ribs inside a haunted house body. 

You shiver when he pulls down your yukata and presses a chaste kiss to your collarbone. It must feel the same as when humans get their curses exorcised by him. Lightness in their being instead of dead weight. Blessed by a god.

“Come inside,” he purrs. “You’re getting cold, yeah? I can see your goosebumps.”

No. His hands were just colder than you expected.

He gathers his hair into a half-up bun before he brings you to his room for the first time. It’s rather bare, save for the kotatsu across from his futon and the talismans that are hanging above it. The calligraphy is messy, unintelligible, as if the text was written manically. 

He sits you down at the kotatsu and pours you bergamot tea. You cough nervously in anticipation.

“Suguru.”

“Yes?”

“Um.. how long do you intend on keeping me here?”

He raises a brow. Looks at you like you’ve asked something stupid.

“You have somewhere else to go?” he asks sarcastically.

You triple-blink at his bluntness. He isn’t taking you seriously. 

“Well, I have a friend or two in my hometown. I was thinking about—”

Your breath hitches when he grabs your chin. His gaze bores into your face, his lips in a hard line.

“You’re unhappy,” he says plainly.

“No, I’m just not sure if I can completely fulfill the purpose that you—”

“Do you think anyone else will take you in?” he spits. “You told me yourself. You have no family. You were barely scraping by when you lived alone. With the amount of cursed energy you possess, you think you’ll be able to protect your friends from all the curses you’ll attract?”

You sink into yourself. As if a switch is flipped, his expression changes completely. There’s that familiar softness in his eyes again. God, the tea was making you feel so warm, too. One look from him and you find yourself melting. Even the Devil would swoon.

“Don’t you think fate brought us together?” he whispers. “Don’t you know how valuable you are to me?”

He almost sounds like he means it. Your rabbit heart speeds up when he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. A heady feeling consumes you and you force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“Look at me,” he demands, grabbing your chin again. He crowds your space, not leaving you any room to breathe. Your gut aches from sudden heat.

“God made you for me. Don’t you know that?”

Your mind goes blank as you nod slowly. He looks at you like he’s starved. No one’s ever looked at you like that before. No one has ever really looked at you before him.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper.

He caresses your cheek, his breath tickling your jaw as he leans in.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like to feel a little stir-crazy. I’ll take you out more often, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and it comes off as sardonic.

“Such a spoiled girl. Only the very best for my girl, hm? I clothe her, feed her, make her stronger. And what do I get in return?” he scolds, thumb swiping over your quivering bottom lip. “She tries to run away from me.”

“I’m not,” you pout.

“You’re not?” he scoffs.

You don’t know what to do other than apologize. You were weak like that.

“You’re so good,” he sighs. “And you want to keep being good, is that right?”

“Yes,” you mumble. 

You shiver again when he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand undoing the ties of your yukata. You sharply inhale at the cool air hitting in your nipples, the rest of you trembling at the prospect of being so bare in front of him. God or prophet, you didn’t know. All that you know now is that there was no coming back from this. 

“My good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “My best girl.”

You whimper when you feel his tongue on your jaw. His kisses are tantalizingly slow. Teasing. He marvels at the flutter of your lashes in response to his touch. 

He had tried to deny those feelings in the beginning, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He feels as though he’s created you. He liked you delicate, lace winged. A butterfly caught in a jar.

Suguru thinks this is fair. He has always believed in fairness, and although one might argue that his philosophy is a direct contradiction to that, he could beg to differ. Different people had different values, that was all. You just happened to have an advantage in the hierarchy he holds in his head. A precious thing, his treasure. 

When he turned his back on Jujutsu society by becoming a curse user, he would avenge the suffering of the sorcerers around him. Years of adapting to the taste of shit and vomit would eventually earn him something that made it all worth it. He’s convinced that something was you.

He was your savior, therefore you were his blessing. It was only fair that he could take you the way he wanted. You were meant to be found by him. You were meant to be kept. 

You barely put up a fight.

You whimper when he parts your legs with his hands and finds you embarrassingly wet. Every stroke of his hands on your inner thigh has you twitching involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he coos. “Look at that.”

You look away in shame, trying to close your legs, but he forces them open with a bruising grip. Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“What’s wrong, baby? You want to be good for me, right?”

You nod without a word, trying to control your breathing. Your brain is telling you that you want this — you’d wanted to be his from the moment you saw him. Your body tells you the same, but dread creeps up your spine.

You gasp when he grazes your clit with his fingers. He plays with it, stares at your cunt through your underwear like it’s a prize.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid. I’m the only person in this world you can trust.”

He slips your panties off easily and you wince at the sound of your wetness sticking to the fabric. He applies more pressure to your bud, distracting you with his mouth on yours. You mewl into his mouth without realizing and he grins against your lips, slipping his tongue inside. 

When you feel a finger push into your walls, you convulse in surprise, though you don’t pull away like he expects. You merely clutch him harder, your hands wrinkling the sleeve of his haori. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” he rasps. “No one’s been here before, is that right? Just me?”

He groans when you look at him with innocent eyes and nod meekly. Of course he would be your first. You were nothing but a wounded dog when he found you, barely had a life of your own before he took you. You were pure and the world was keeping you for him. It was meant to be.

“S-Suguru…” you breathe. He’s pulled you into his lap now, your cunt getting his kimono wet. The slick of your cunt around his finger is enough to make blood rush to his cock. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles. In one fell swoop, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the futon. You squeak in surprise at being lifted off the floor so quickly and so easily. 

He takes the pause in his actions to undress himself, slipping off his robes, and when you see the thickness of his length prodding against his toned stomach, your mouth goes dry. 

“C’mere,” he beckons. You obey.

He kisses you sweetly on your mouth and then down your jaw, squeezing your breasts. Your breath hitches as he takes the time to rub his thumb over your nipples. Suddenly, his teeth graze your chest. Biting, tasting. Forbidden fruit.

You let out a quiet moan and he chuckles. “So sensitive.”

Without a warning, he plunges two fingers into your cunt and you nearly cry out. There’s a choked noise, something in between pleasure and resignation. It’s all too much. When he adds a third finger and feels much less resistance, he laughs. 

“Taking me so well. You’re doing so good,” he encourages before lapping at your chest again. When his fingers curl at just the right angle, your vision starts to get fuzzy. His thumb on your clit only intensifies the feeling.

“I c-can’t—”

“Hm? Use your words.”

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

His movements still and you nearly scream. He pulls back to see tears brimming your eyes and he kisses them away gently despite his cruel smirk. 

“Nonono, please—”

“Please what?” He feigns innocence. 

You bite your lip, your face too hot to feel comfortable expressing what you want. You feel the ghost of your curse wrap around your throat again. Once again, you find that the ticket to salvation has silky black hair and snake eyes. The artillery of a fallen angel disguised as something pure.

He can tell you’re frustrated but too afraid to voice it. You’re as pliable as he knew you would be. Endlessly easy to coax a reaction from. 

“Do you expect everything to be handed to you? Just because you’re mine?” he taunts. 

His. His. His.

You shake your head, whimpering. 

“Then ask nicely, baby.”

Your cunt is on fire even though he isn’t touching you. When he strokes your lip and pushes his thumb into your mouth, you let him. Your tongue tickles his fingertip.

“Ah, so you still have a tongue. You can still speak.”

He laughs when you pout.

“Please touch me,” you say, your voice as quiet as a breeze.

“What was that?” He grins even wider. 

“Pleasetouchme,” you whimper, your voice light as air.“Please… please make me cum.”

“Good girl,” he chuckles, licking into your mouth. His fingers fuck you in earnest now. You feel so full that your eyes roll back. It’s cute.

Poor thing. Suguru is a patient man, but he’s not sure if he has it in him to wait. He could make you cum three more times so that you’re truly ready for him, but he doesn’t want to. He supposes that if he breaks you, you’ll thank him anyway. No one else wants you more than him, you had to understand that. 

His cock throbs at the sight of you coming undone. It’s nearly animalistic, like provoking violence from weak prey. Cataclysmic like a falling star. He’s consumed with it, with the fact that he can do this to you and no one else can. 

He fingers you through the aftershocks, too, until you sob loud enough that his other hand has to cover your mouth. You squirm underneath him, shaking your head in desperation. 

He admires the slick of sweat on your chest, your glowing figure. When he releases you, he thinks briefly that you’re on the verge of passing out. But you tremble, rapidly breathing, eyes unfocused as your lashes flutter. 

Suguru licks you off of his fingers and you stare in horror, returning to yourself.  It makes him giddy, how even your spirit is infinitesimal.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs. He kisses you roughly, tongue prying your mouth open and making you moan. “See? Sweet. You’re perfect.”

He likes seeing you all flushed. Glaze on your cheekbones. He thinks he should make you his wife, memorialize your fucked out form with a commissioned painting and hang it above his bed. A good luck charm among the talismans. You look too good to ruin with his cock, but he knows he’d already taken all of you anyway.

He’ll put you back together after. Pamper you with yuzu slices in a hot bath. Play the part of a boyfriend instead of a master.

He pins you down even though he doesn’t need to. You let him settle in between your thighs, his aching cock slapping against your stomach. 

“So cute when you’re scared,” he chuckles at the look on your face.

“It’s… big,” you say meekly. 

“It’ll fit. It won’t be so bad, yeah? I changed my mind about punishing you for trying to run away.”

Panic paints your features.

“I wasn’t trying to run away! I promise.” Your lip quivers again. Maybe he should make you beg.

“Is that right?” He leans in, precum spreading on the skin above your cunt, tip grazing your clit just slightly. You bite your tongue so you don’t moan from the sensitivity.

“Yes. I want to stay.”

“And why’s that?” he jeers. 

“Because— because you’ve given me everything.”

He waits for you to elaborate.

“Because I’m yours. I’m…  your good girl,” you slur through tears, voice above a whisper.

“Poor baby,” he hums. “Of course you are. Always will be.” Whether you like it or not.

You moan at the same time he prods his tip inside. When he sinks in even further, right to the hilt, he becomes delirious with need. It takes everything in him to not pound into you recklessly.

“Pretty fucking cunt,” he groans. “So warm.”

More hot tears, but your dread is replaced with rapture. He fills you up, already poking at the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your body ripples with pleasure as he moves and digs into your guts, an ocean of tender heat.

It’s a branding. You don’t exist if it isn’t for him.

“Suguru,” you moan. 

He kisses your neck, teeth hard on your flesh. Pulling it taut while his tongue rolls in it and leaves mouth-shaped blessings.

His hips drive into you with more force, cock reaching places that your fingers could never reach. You shut your eyes and phosphenes float through the static of blackness. They linger when you open them again, Suguru’s face illuminating in grainy color.

It takes you a bit to realize his mutters, the way he’s babbling through moans.

Good fucking girl. All mine forever. I’ll die with you.

You let out a pitched moan as Suguru wraps his fingers around your throat. Every part of your body feels like it’s bursting. You cum like that, your walls outstretched by his thickness carving you out in the shape of him. 

“Take it,” he grunts. “Take my cock. Fuck, I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

He’ll probably obsess over your cunt for ages. The face you make when you’re being used. Your ragdoll body.

His bun had come undone. Even if his cock wasn’t in you, your stomach would ache from how beautiful he looked. Eyes focused on you, nearly deranged at the way he was blistering you raw. The cascade of tears down your cheeks. It made him impossibly hard. 

He pulls out quickly to flip you onto your stomach so he can rut into you from behind. The angle makes it so that his cock is even deeper. 

“Oh, Suguru—”

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again?”

You whine, all high-pitched and girlish. 

“Tell me you’re mine. That you’ll never leave me,” he grunts.

“I’m yours,” you hiccup. “I’ll n-never leave you.”

Your cunt was starting to burn, even with how wet you were. Suguru cums with a rough thrust at your words, nose buried in between the lovebirds littering your shoulder. You’re full of him. He doesn’t stop, his dick still hard inside you. 

“Shit,” he hisses, looking down to see his cum oozing out of your pussy, all mixed up in your arousal. “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He grits his teeth when he feels you squeeze around him. You can barely form words now, crying as you can feel yourself about to cum again. 

“That’s it,” he pants. “Cum for me, princess. Cum on that cock for me.”

You’re twitchier this time. Your moan tapers off into squeals as you bury your tear-stained face into the pillow. He follows after you with a gasp, his large body covering you like a cocoon. 

He kisses the nape of your neck. Between your shoulder blades. His cock stills inside you, but he doesn’t pull out until he softens completely. When you stop shaking, he turns you over. 

“There’s my angel,” he says fondly. “Thought you passed out on me.”

You shake your head. He smiles lazily, leaning to kiss you all over your face. 

Your bones feel like jelly, but you still switch your positions with intent, and to your surprise, he lets you. Naked and breathing heavily above him, you examine him with his hair spread out on the pillow, cheeks flushed and cherubic. He almost looks innocent. 

He groans at the way your leaking cunt grinds on his crotch, prompting him to get half-hard already. He grabs your hips at the same time you grab the base of his throat. He laughs. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You blink twice and your eyes glaze over. 

In your vision, you see Suguru’s face flashing you his usual grin, this time showing all his teeth as blood drips from his chin. When you look down at your hands, they’re saturated in the same red. He kisses you despite it all and you understand. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I do.”

[angelsrcute]

Oooo I saw your Dr ratio with sub yandere reader,, and I ABSOKUTEKY LOVE IT

If its cool, can I request one similar with (obessive? Maybe yandere?) Jing Yuan and insecure sub yandere reader that were childhood friends (im talking pre-cloudknight days)?

Centuries worth of pining peak when Jing yuan discovers all the letters reader gives him has love confessions hidden in black-light dating back forever ago?Or Jing yuan discovers readers altar dedicated to him by accident? Either way, reader isn't leaving Jing Yuans grasp (or his bed) anytime soon. (Maybe ending with Overstim?)

Cheers,

✒️ nonnie

LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME. ౨ৎ

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Jing Yuan + Sub!Insecure!Reader ➜ cws: size kink, overstimulation, light yandere themes, praising, gentle sex. ᡴꪫ‎

You had always admired him, maybe it got a little too much but who cares? He was so kind to you too, always caring for you and showering you with gifts.

He would sometimes teach you how to use a sword, God, how much you cherished the moments when he would touch your hands to fix your stance.

But you were always too afraid to confess to him. What if he rejected you? What if you're not good enough for him? What if he gets bored of you? What if he thinks you're ugly? What if–

The amount of love letters you wrote to him, which ended up in your drawers, hidden from sight.

The amount of times you sneakily clicked pictures of him, sleeping, training, eating, interacting with that bird– Oh how you wish it was you instead. Feeling how soft his lips are, you swear you're gonna go crazy one day. You were making your way back to your room but you saw that the door was slightly open.

Curse your luck, why the hell was Jing yuan in your room?? Why's he reading all your letters–? Gosh, did he see the altar you had dedicated to him?? You feel your face flush, blushing. You still have the choice of jumping off a cliff–

He looks at you, with a smug face as he starts walking towards you. A pull, and now he's on top of you, caging you in his arms on the bed.

“My, Y/N.., do you like me that much, hm? I'd say I'm surprised.” He chuckles.

He's so much bigger than you, your hands pinned on top of you by his single hand. Clothes on the floor, Jing yuan kisses every part of your body, worshipping you like you're some aeon! Such a tease.

“Hm? Why am I worshipping you? My dear, for me you are a God, very divine.”

He gently nibbles at your earlobe to soothe you from the pain, whispering sweet praises to you, his big dick reaching all your good spots, your gummy walls clenching on his dick.

“You're doing so well for me, it's gonna feel good very soon, so be a good girl.”

Your nails scratching his back as you swear you can feel his dick hitting your womb, you don't remember what round you're at, all you can focus is on the pleasure, your clit all puffy as he rubs slow circles on your clit, his pace all nice and gentle.

Your stomach feels so full, his hands pressing lightly on the bulge, earning a whimper from you. His kisses away your tears, cumming again for the nth time as he pulls out.

After cleaning up, he cuddles you in his arms and falls asleep. Even makes you breakfast tomorrow and brings it to your bed. (Of course he has to, you can't even walk, thanks to a certain someone!!)

[p1utofairy]

PAC: your upcoming relationship 🎀🫧🎆

pile 1 🧸 —

ok so i immediately heard let the light in by lana del rey ft. father john misty! this is a very passionate relationship pile 1 wow. your person is very patient, attentive and willing to put you first no matter what. the dynamic will be similar to allie and noah's but minus the toxicity…there's a push and pull but just enough to keep each other engaged and entertained. i'm hearing a lot of witty playful banter, you grinning until your cheeks hurt and not being able to keep eye contact because they give you butterflies. i'm feeling some gemini influence in this pile hmmm communication will be really important between the 2 of you. i think you both are very similar when it comes to your interests and values but have a different approach to how you handle your feelings and express your emotions. you may be a bit more hesitant or resistant to sharing how you feel in hopes of keeping the peace but i feel like your person will encourage you to speak your mind instead of bottling it in. this goes for any scenerio as well, they want you to be able to step into your power and not dim your light for anyone or anything. your person could have prominent water/cancer/or 4h placements because they give nurturing vibes. i just heard "I JUST WANNA SEE YOU SHINE, CAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE A STARGIRL." you mean everything to them. even if you two were to have a disagreement, they'd probably be a bit moody at first but at the end of the day they'd want to talk it out and make up with you. (and i heard make it up to you) they'll never want you to go to bed angry at them or vice versa, this person is very mature and doesn't like to cut corners when it comes to their relationships. this person has an "all or nothing" type of mentality, when they commit themselves to you that's it. all they see you is pile 1, awww it's so sweet. you're gonna have lots of fun with this person.

pile 2 ⭐️ —

love you like a brother, treat you like a friend, respect you like a lover. OOOO pile 2 your person is very suave, they know exactly what to say and when to say it. i feel like they light up every room that they walk in & could definitely charm the pants off of anyone. it might be hard to take them serious at first or you may question if they're serious about you because they seem to be very friendly or more experienced. but i'm hearing that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, because although this person may give player vibes they’re actually a sweetheart at the core. i can see this person having a really bright smile, they'll love to make you laugh and put you in a good mood. you will bring a good balance to them, they need stability and you're exactly that. they're very confident and extroverted but deep down they feel like no one really sees them except for you. i'm hearing infrunami by steve lacy so maybe some of you already know this person. it honestly does give a good friends to lovers vibe. i can see you two texting a lot, going on little dates and having random/deep conversations about any and everything. maybe lots of discussions about movies? i'm hearing some of you really love cinema. i think you'll definitely see this person in a different light as you get to know them, compared to your first impression of them. it’s like when andie was putting ben through all those hoops until they went to visit his family in staten island…and once she saw him in his element/who he truly was at the core she realized her feelings for him. yeahhh this is super cute pile 2, i dig it.

pile 3 🍬 —

heyyy pile 3, right off the bat i keep hearing the word CUTE. like maybe this is what people will think when they see you and your person together? you two are absolutely made for each other, i think your inner child will really come out when you're around this person. i can feel the excitement, the giddiness and anticipation you two will exude when you're in each other's presence. i heard "like a kid in a candy store" lol that's adorable. power trip by j. cole ft. miguel is playing…yeah it's very much THAT. i feel like you both will pinch yourselves thinking is this real??? your person is gonna make you feel like you're on cloud 9 hehe i see them getting you flowers, writing you cute little messages on sticky notes and gifting you thoughtful things that you may have mentioned in passing but didn't expect them to remember. i feel like you (and maybe even your person) have been waiting/yearning for a connection like this for very a long time, i get an almost lonely energy. like you've been single for a long time and now you feel whole/complete. the intimacy between you two >>> not even just sexually but intellectually and emotionally! you're gonna feel so safe and comfortable with them. your person is very sentimental and they will never take a moment shared with you for granted. i see polaroid/photobooth pics of you 2 being all close and cutesy :) this person might be a little lowkey/reserved in nature but you definitely bring them out of their shell. the scene where jenna says “arrivederci” and is so giddy when matty responds back with “au revoir” is coming to mind. AH y'all are gonna be so goneeeeee pile 3 i love it for you.

[everyday-is-brighter-with-you]

[ ID: Image 1 is of Heatblast from the original Ben 10 cartoon series. Original Heatblast is a fire-based entity. His body is composed of a super hot inner plasma body covered by dark reddish brown volcanic rocks. His feet have a slight oval-like design with only two toes and one back toe. His collarbone resembles a volcano which generates a fiery "hair" that covers his head, leaving his mask-like face visible with no nose or ears. The grey hourglass-like symbol of the Omnitrix juts from his chest.

Image 2 is of Heatblast from the Ultimate Ben 10 series. His eyes are no longer connected to the fire on his head. The rocks over his body changed, with a burnt black color and red markings on every edge of his rocky skin, resembling charcoal and his plasma body is a lighter shade of yellow. His Ultimatrix ( which is a updated Omnitrix) symbol is green and grey.

Image 3 is of Heatblast from Omniverse. He looks almost the same as in Ultimate Alien, only his eyes are once again connected to the fire on his head, like in the Original Series. He is taller and more muscular, his face's design is different and more pointed, and his shoulder plates are slightly tilted up. His feet are also more thin, showing an exaggerated difference to the body. His Ultimatrix ( which is a updated Omnitrix) symbol is green and grey.

Final image is of Heatblast from the Ben 10 Reboot. The volcanic rocks on his body are of a brighter, deeper color. They are smoother. The plasma body inside is gradiented and milder in color, plus his hand and foot size is toned down. His mask-like face is bright red and more simplified, his "hair" flame is the brightest part of him. The grey hourglass-like symbol of the Omnitrix juts from his chest. End ID]

Ben 10 Alien design reviews! – Heatblast

Our first alien we’ll review is Heatblast, also the very first alien that Ben transforms into in the series!

Keep reading