#this AU has been consuming me since I thought of it an hour ago

[skipppppy]

Uhh. Delicious in Skyrim. Is that anything

They go around killing dragons and Laios is absolutely devastated that the dragon meat disintegrates when he absorbs the soul every time. He just wants to eat dragon meat. Let him eat the dragon meat Akatosh

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 10) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 9k

notes: soo super long part because I wasn't sure of where to cut

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Kaz moved through the next few days mechanically, his mind miles away. He avoided everyone and everything, lost in a haze of thoughts and emotions he couldn't fully process. When Inej asked for some time to think, he agreed without hesitation. He wasn’t ready for those difficult conversations, not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

He obsessed over Y/N’s Instagram, watching her have fun on her cruise while he replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Glimpses of the night they shared haunted him, moments of intimacy and connection that only made the present more unbearable. He counted the days until her return, but every time, he stopped, he asked himself: then what? She had made it clear that things wouldn’t work and that she didn’t want to try.

For two days, she didn’t post anything, and Kaz was losing his mind. At first, he thought she had blocked him. Then, his thoughts spiraled further, leading him to check if the cruise had sunk, his anxiety manifesting in irrational fears.

He was on his couch, watching replays of MasterChef, when his phone buzzed. Frowning, Kaz saw DMs from one of Y/N’s roommates.

‘Hi, I know you and Y/N are not on speaking terms, and I know she’s going to kill me for this, but I have to tell you. Her grandma had a heart attack two days ago and she still hasn’t woken up. Y/N had to come back and she’s been at the hospital since then. She told us she doesn’t want anyone, but we thought maybe you could make her reason better than us.’

He was already on his feet, reaching for his car keys. ‘I’m on my way’ he replied quickly.

‘Can you stop here? We have a bag of her things ready’

Kaz reached Y/N’s house, where her roommates were already outside, waiting for him. One of them handed him a bag.

“There are some clothes, a book she had on her nightstand, and a few other things. Oh, and her glasses,” she explained.

Kaz nodded, taking the bag from her hand.

“She probably hasn’t eaten in days. Can you get her—”

“McDonald’s, yes,” he said confidently, already planning the next steps.

The girl’s face was filled with worry. “Kaz, she has no one else. If anything happens to her grandma, she’s going to lose it badly.”

He nodded again, feeling his heart race.

Outside the hospital, Kaz sent a text to his boss, saying he was taking the week off, and then turned off his phone. He found Y/N sitting on the floor outside her grandma’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw him, red and puffy from crying.

Without a word, Kaz slid down onto the floor next to her, ignoring the protest from his leg. He circled her shoulders with his arm, and she immediately threw herself onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he tried to be the support she desperately needed. 

As she cried, Kaz rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. He wanted to say something comforting, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, he held her, letting his presence speak for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but being there for her, giving her a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour.

As she cried softly against his chest, Kaz's heart ached with the weight of her sorrow. He held her close, feeling her tremble with each sob, his own emotions tumultuous yet contained. His fingers traced comforting circles on her back, a silent gesture of solace amidst the sterile hospital environment.

Hours passed in their embrace, time marked only by the occasional shuffle of nurses outside and the rhythmic beeping of machines in the room. Eventually, y/n's voice broke the silence, a hesitant question cutting through the heaviness of the moment. "Do you want to go in?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaz nodded gently, helping her up from their uncomfortable position on the floor. They moved to the bedside where y/n's grandmother lay, connected to various monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, y/n settled onto the edge of the bed, taking her grandmother's frail hand in hers. Kaz found a seat nearby, uncertain of his role in this deeply personal moment.

"Oh, um, they gave me your glasses," Kaz spoke up awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Didn't know you needed them."

Y/n accepted the glasses with a small smile, sliding them on with a playful comment that briefly lifted the weight in the room. "You look cuter when I can't see," she teased softly, her attempt at levity amid the somber atmosphere.

He chuckled softly, appreciating her effort to lighten the mood even in such circumstances. The afternoon faded into evening, and then night descended, their vigil by her grandmother's side continuing steadfastly. Kaz had no inclination to leave; his presence here, he hoped, offered some measure of comfort to y/n in her time of need.

"Kaz, if you want to go—" y/n began, her voice hesitant.

"I'm staying," he interrupted softly but firmly, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her words carrying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't convey.

After the most uncomfortable sleep of their lives, a doctor awakened them, informing y/n that they were ready to try and wake up her grandmother by disconnecting some of the machines. Slowly, the elderly woman regained consciousness, and both y/n and Kaz released a collective breath of relief.

"Kitty?" Alice's voice was weak yet filled with recognition as she scanned the room for her niece.

"Hi, Grandma. How are you feeling?" y/n gently disentangled herself from Kaz's embrace and moved closer to the bed.

"Light," Alice replied softly, her eyes stopping on Kaz, curiosity evident in her gaze.

“I told you a thousand times not to play poker anymore,” y/n scolded Alice, a mix of exasperation and affection in her tone.

“Oh, Kitty, I was winning. I couldn't back out,” Alice chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood. “You're unbelievable,” y/n shook her head fondly.

“Can we go now? I'm feeling pretty good,” Alice asked hopefully.

Kaz couldn't help but snort at y/n's reaction. “No, we can't. You had a heart attack! You have to stay here.”

“When was the last time you showered?” Alice teased gently.

“That's not relevant,” y/n retorted playfully.

“Who's watering my plants?” Alice asked, genuine concern in her voice.

“Your plants? You almost died!”

“My plants are going to die!” Alice insisted stubbornly.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe you.”

The conversation between Alice and y/n continued, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine concern, leaving Kaz feeling like a spectator in their intimate family dynamic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure of how to contribute to their exchange.

“How much Botox did you get? Your forehead is frozen!” Alice suddenly remarked, shifting her attention to y/n with a teasing tone.

“Sick, right?” y/n tried to furrow her brow to demonstrate, but it remained stubbornly smooth. “It's weird, Kitty,” she scoffed.

Alice turned to Kaz with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you like this look?”

Kaz hesitated, feeling slightly put on the spot. “It's, uh, a bit unsettling.”

"See, Kitty? Even this boy you still haven't introduced thinks it's weird. You just turned 18 for Ghazen's sake,” Alice teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Kaz, caught off guard, took a sip of y/n's vape and nearly choked at the unexpected revelation. “You just what?”

“It was her birthday last month,” Alice explained casually, her tone implying this was no big deal, but her raised eyebrow at Kaz's surprise said otherwise.

“You're a minor?” Kaz turned to y/n, his disbelief palpable.

“Well, not anymore,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly, as if revealing the weather forecast. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Kaz was certain his face mirrored the shock he felt. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He glanced at Alice, then back at y/n, feeling like he was missing something crucial.

"A minor?" Kaz repeated dumbfoundedly, trying to process the information. "And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

Y/n let out a laugh, seeing Kaz's stunned reaction. "Relax, Kaz. I've been legal for a whole month now."

Kaz rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. 

Alice, enjoying the banter, chimed in again. "You look a bit pale, dear."

"Yeah?" Kaz replied in a weirdly high voice, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had been unknowingly involved with someone who had just barely reached adulthood. "I thought... I thought you were older."

Y/n couldn't resist teasing Kaz a little more. With a mischievous smirk, she leaned closer. "Age is just a number, Kaz."

Kaz shook his head, feeling like he had just stepped into a comedy of errors. "I need a moment," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his temples.

Alice, ever the comforting presence, patted his arm sympathetically. "Take your time, boy. You're handling it well," she said with a twinkle in her eye, clearly amused by the situation.

Kaz let out a nervous laugh, his tension palpable. "Age is not just a number if you’re a minor, y/n," he retorted, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "This is serious."

Y/n shrugged casually, her playful smile widening. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Kaz stared at her incredulously, feeling like he had just stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality. "You're asking why?" He shook his head, unable to contain a nervous chuckle.

 Kaz was sure that he was the one about having an heart attack and would need Alice to leave some machines even for him.

The woman exchanged a bewildered glance with y/n, both of them bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“I wish I had a picture of the face you made, love. I didn't just turn 18. Relax,” y/n teased affectionately.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Kaz sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a mixture of amusement and relief.

“Who are you, boy?” Alice redirected her attention to Kaz, extending her hand in greeting.

“He's a friend, Grandma,” y/n answered warmly.

“Kaz Brekker, my pleasure, Miss or, well, Mrs?” Kaz replied politely, shaking Alice's hand in his gloved one.

“Alice is fine,” the woman replied with a gentle smile, studying Kaz's gloves intently.

“Are you cold?” Alice inquired, her concern evident.

“Kind of,” Kaz said, unsure of how to explain the presence of his gloves.

Alice hummed thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Kaz for a moment longer. “Are you eating, kitty?”

“Are you?” y/n interjected playfully, teasing Alice back.

“Come on, Kitty, go to my house, check on the plants, and get a shower. You,” Alice turned towards Kaz, her expression serious yet caring, “convince her.”

Kaz's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Alice's directness. He quickly composed himself. “Yeah, we can go and be back in no time. I'm sure they have to run a few more exams anyway.”

“Fine,” y/n acquiesced reluctantly, glancing at Kaz for reassurance.

Kaz nodded reassuringly, offering her a small smile. 

Reluctantly, they left the hospital, making their way to Alice’s house. The cozy home was exactly as someone would imagine a grandma’s house: a haven of warmth and comfort, filled with knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender.

"Do you want to see her plants?" Y/n asked with a smirk, leading Kaz to a door at the back of the house.

Kaz followed, curious. When Y/n opened the door, he was greeted by rows of lush, green plants. "That's—"

"Marijuana, yes," Y/n finished for him, her smirk widening.

Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's arrest-level marijuana."

Y/n shrugged, laughter bubbling up. "She says she's too old to be put in jail."

They both burst out laughing, the heaviness of the previous days dissolving in their shared amusement. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the absurdity of the situation and the warmth of Alice's eccentricity.

After their laughter subsided, Y/n led Kaz back to the living room. The cozy space invited them to stay a while, and they settled onto the couch. Kaz sank into the soft cushions, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Y/n curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“This place is really something,” Kaz said, looking around at the shelves lined with porcelain figurines and the walls adorned with y/n photos as a child.

Y/n nodded, her eyes following his gaze. 

Kaz glanced down at her, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner and the noise from the street. Kaz felt his eyes grow heavy, the emotional toll of the past days catching up with him.

Y/n seemed to sense his weariness. “You should rest a bit before we head back to the hospital,” she suggested, her voice gentle.

Kaz nodded, too tired to argue. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Y/n shifted, lying down so her head was in his lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Their fight seemed so far away he could even forget it happened.

They stayed like that for a while, dozing off in the quiet comfort of the living room. When Kaz awoke, the sun had shifted, casting a warm glow through the lace curtains. He glanced down at Y/n, who was still asleep, her breathing soft and even. 

Yet, as he watched her, a familiar pang of uncertainty crept in. They were doing it again—blurring lines, complicating their emotions, and confusing themselves more and more. Despite the peace of the moment, he couldn't shake the realization that their relationship was a delicate dance of affection and conflict. The boundaries they tried to establish always seemed to blur, leaving them in a perpetual state of ambiguity.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but they needed to get back to the hospital.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “We should get going.”

She stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Mh?”

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Time to wake up, love.”

Y/n stretched, yawning. “Okay, let’s go.”

They both freshened up quickly, the refreshing showers revitalizing them. Kaz found himself feeling more human, more present. They changed into fresh clothes and made their way back to the hospital.

The drive back was quieter, but the atmosphere between them had lightened considerably. Kaz reached out and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing it gently. The simple touch was reassuring, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave her side.

“How have you been while I was away?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Kaz snorted, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Not good. I’m still a bit embarrassed by the things I told you while we were, you know.”

“Having sex, Kaz, you can say it,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t worry, it was just the moment. I know you don’t mean any of it.”

“Well, not all of it,” he confessed, his voice softer.

Y/n turned to look at him with a small smile while he kept his eyes on the road, one hand caressing her thigh. The comfort and normalcy they felt were unsettling, a painful reminder of what they could have if circumstances were different.

“I like having you around, Y/n,” he added after a while. “I don’t care if you think that we’re going to mess this up. I mean, how could we mess it up more than it already is?”

“You have a girlfriend, Kaz,” she reminded him gently.

“Tell me to break up with her and I will,” he said, surprising even himself with the bold statement.

“It’s not my choice to make, and I still don’t want a relationship,” she said firmly.

He parked the car and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Can we forget this for a while? At least until we’re here,” Kaz said, cupping one of her cheeks and pulling her towards him gently, giving her the space to back away if she wanted. Y/n let him guide her, their lips finally meeting in a tender kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he hummed, satisfied. 

“How did you—?” he began to ask when she suddenly straddled him, her laughter filling the car as she pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the smooth contours of her back.

“Do you want to do it?” she whispered in his ear, moving her hips slowly against him.

“Here?” he asked, not entirely opposed to the idea, though he was taken aback by the bold suggestion.

Before she could answer, a sharp knock on the car window startled them both. “Come on, lovebirds, knock it off,” a security guard said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Kaz turned an interesting shade of red, while Y/n laughed and opened the door, stepping out. “Sorry, got carried away a bit,” she said, batting her eyes at the guard.

“You’d be surprised how many people I have to interrupt. What is this thing with hospitals?” the man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Are you staying there?” he asked Kaz, who was still in the car, trying to gather his composure.

“Yeah, uh, I need—”

“Oh, for Ghezen’s sake, just don’t make me catch you again,” the guard said, walking away while shaking his head.

Kaz got out of the car, joining Y/n. They stood there for a moment, both a little flustered but also amused by the situation. “How can you never get embarrassed?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n chuckled, linking her arm with his. “I get embarrassed, just not for wanting to have sex. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head slightly but smiling.

They settled into Alice’s room, where she immediately put them to work on her crossword puzzles. “Kitty, get down from that poor guy. He’s not going to be able to feel his legs anymore,” Alice commented, noticing Y/n had made herself comfortable on Kaz’s lap.

“It’s fine,” Kaz said, peering over her shoulder at the puzzle.

“So, what’s the deal between you two?” Alice inquired, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“We’re friends, I told you,” Y/n shrugged, her attention shifting to her phone where she was watching TikToks. “Oh, look at how cute this baby is,” she cooed, showing Kaz a video of a giggling infant.

Kaz made a face. “Babies are gross,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from Y/n.

“Friends, huh?” Alice remarked slyly. “And did someone tell you that you’re only friends?”

“Grandma!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Alice said, laughing to herself.

“See? Even she thinks we should try it,” Kaz whispered in Y/n’s ear, leaning back and making her lay more comfortably against his chest.

“Shut up and look at this cat,” Y/n retorted, showing him another TikTok.

Kaz chuckled, the warmth of their playful banter wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Despite the complexities of their relationship, moments like these made everything else fade into the background.

Every now and then, Y/n would shift, adjusting her position on Kaz's lap, and he would wrap his arms around her more securely. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their interactions natural and effortless.

That night, Y/n fell asleep in one of the chairs outside Alice’s room, her head resting uncomfortably against the wall. Kaz, however, was too restless to sleep. The hospital chair dug into his back, and the sterile lights made it impossible to find any real comfort. Around 3 a.m., he noticed movement from Alice’s room and saw her trying to sneak out. He raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

Alice caught his eye and then glanced at her sleeping niece. “Come on, let’s go take some fresh air,” she whispered.

“Alice, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m going. Will you explain to her why you left me alone, or should I?” Alice shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz sighed. Was being annoyingly stubborn a genetic trait? He stood up and followed her as they made their way to a door that led to a balcony. “It’s locked,” Kaz commented, testing the handle.

“Then open it, boy,” Alice sighed, clearly unimpressed.

Kaz debated whether to comply, but he realized she’d probably find another way to escape. Better to accompany her than let her wander off alone. He quickly picked the lock, and they stepped outside into the cool night air.

“I saw you kissing earlier,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um,” Kaz stammered, caught off guard.

“You know, Kitty is really good at telling lies—especially to herself,” Alice remarked, her voice softening. “It’s complicated,” he whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Where’s the fun if it’s not?” she replied, studying him intently. “Are you in love with her?”

Kaz hesitated, the unexpected question throwing him off balance. He struggled to find the right words.

“She’s going to get scared and push you away,” Alice continued, sensing his turmoil.

“She already did,” he admitted. “We weren’t talking to each other before I got here.”

Kaz thought about the past few days, his phone having been off since he arrived. Inej and Jesper were probably worried sick. For a moment, he was tempted to turn it on, but he knew that doing so would mean facing a barrage of messages and difficult conversations. What was one more day?

Alice sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. “You know, life is too short to waste on complications. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, no matter how scary it is.”

Kaz nodded, her words resonating deeply within him. He looked out at the city lights, the quiet hum of the hospital a soothing backdrop to his chaotic thoughts. “You should say that to her too.”

Alice smiled gently. “You have to be honest with yourself first. Can you accept her job?”

The million-kruge-question. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He hesitated, then decided to ask, “How did you accept it?”

Alice chuckled softly, reminiscing. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Nearly gave me a heart attack when she told me about her decision. But she’s comfortable with it, assures me that she’s safe, and she sends me her check-ups every month.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice’s candidness. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Oh yeah, she always uses protection.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself internally. Why would he say something like that to her grandma?

Alice raised a brow, her amusement evident. “And how do you know that, boy?”

Kaz cleared his throat, attempting to sound convincing. “She… told me.”

The woman chuckled, clearly not believing him. “If you want her, don’t let her take control. Steer her your way, guide her to you, small steps. Don’t ask her to make a decision suddenly, she’s going to run away.”

Kaz nodded, absorbing her advice. He stared at the view, the city lights blurring as his mind raced. Alice's words swirled in his head, mingling with his fears and hopes. Here he was, taking relationship advice from Y/n’s grandmother, while still technically in a relationship himself. 

They stood in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Alice patted his arm. “Remember, Kaz. Patience and persistence. If you truly care for her, show her that you’re willing to be there, no matter how complicated things get.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him. “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out suddenly, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Alice didn’t seem perturbed by his confession. She regarded him calmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “And Y/n doesn’t want a serious relationship,” he added hastily, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain, which was screaming at him to shut up.

Alice remained composed, her expression unchanged. She took a moment before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. “Feelings evolve, circumstances change,” she said, her words carrying the weight of experience. “If it’s meant to be, then it will be. If it’s not, then it won’t. Don’t force things, with neither of them.”

Kaz nodded slowly, grateful for Alice’s wisdom even as he struggled to reconcile his emotions. Her words echoed the doubts and fears he had been grappling with—about relationships, about his own desires, about the uncertainties of the future.

“Trust in the journey, Kaz,” Alice continued, her tone reassuring. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is allow things to unfold naturally, without trying to control the outcome.”

Kaz took a deep breath, absorbing her advice. It was both comforting and challenging—to relinquish control, to trust in the unknown. But he knew deep down that Alice was right. He couldn’t force Y/n into something she wasn’t ready for, and he couldn’t ignore the truth of his own heart.

“Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

Back in the waiting room, Y/n was still asleep, curled up in the chair. Kaz carefully adjusted her position, ensuring she was comfortable. Alice gave him a knowing look before settling back into her bed.

Days went by, and they spent them in a routine that became surprisingly comforting. They moved between Alice’s room, her house, and the hospital cafeteria, finding solace in each other’s company amidst the uncertainty. Alice underwent various exams, and while they waited, Kaz and Y/n often found themselves outside in the uncomfortable chairs, trying to pass the time.

One afternoon, Y/n was engrossed in one of her fairy porn books, the kind that always made Kaz raise an eyebrow. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you read these things?”

Y/n glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s fun.”

Kaz shook his head, feigning disbelief. “It’s weird.”

“Then don’t read them,” she retorted, turning a page.

“I want to know how it ends,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She turned to him with a smile, the playful banter lightening the heavy atmosphere. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to bridge the small gap between them, but he hesitated, the complexities of their situation weighing on him. Before he could second-guess himself further, Y/n leaned in and left a small, soft kiss on his lips, then casually went back to her book as if nothing had happened.

Kaz’s heart raced, the simple gesture leaving him both elated and confused. The kiss was brief but charged with unspoken emotion, a silent acknowledgment of their growing bond. He watched her for a moment, her focus seemingly back on her book, but he knew she felt it too—the undeniable connection between them.

They continued to spend their days like this, finding comfort in their shared moments despite the complications looming over them. Kaz couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with Y/n, how her presence made the hospital’s sterile environment feel almost homely. They laughed together, shared meals, and sometimes just sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet deeply aware of the other’s presence.

***

Finally, Alice was cleared to go home. Despite their protests, she insisted on calling a friend to take her, wanting to give Kaz and Y/n some space. As she left, she gave them a knowing smile and a gentle reminder to cherish their time together.

Kaz and Y/n were sitting in his car, the engine idling softly. Kaz had only one thing on his mind, the thought he had been forcing himself to ignore for days: Now what?

“I still have a few days off work,” he said, glancing at her and waiting for her reaction.

“So?” she replied, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Yeah, he thought, so?

He started driving, letting her put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the car, creating a comfortable backdrop to their thoughts. Every now and then, Y/n would lean towards him to let him take a drag from her vape, the small, intimate gesture deepening their silent connection.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a while, looking around curiously as the scenery shifted from urban to suburban.

“Supermarket,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why?” she laughed, surprised by the sudden change in plans.

“You’re making dinner,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Am I now?” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Yep,” he affirmed, his tone light but his eyes serious.

They arrived at the supermarket, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the parking lot. Inside, they wandered through the aisles, the mundane task of grocery shopping feeling strangely intimate. Kaz watched as Y/n picked out ingredients, her movements confident and assured. He found himself drawn to her even more, captivated by the ease with which she moved through life, her independence and strength shining through in these simple moments.

“Please, Kaz, let me do it,” Y/n kept begging in his ear, her tone a mix of playful and insistent. She nipped at his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.

“I don’t want to,” he laughed nervously, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to touch her.

“Come on, I swear I’m really good,” she teased, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made his pulse quicken.

“I have absolutely no doubts about that,” he responded, his voice a little breathless. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Y/n got on her knees in front of him while he was seated on the couch, her eyes wide and pleading. The sight of her there, looking up at him with such intensity, made his heart race. “Please.”

“You’re not ashamed of anything, are you?” he asked, half in awe, half in disbelief. He could barely comprehend her boldness, so different from the guarded world he was used to.

“Absolutely not,” she replied confidently. Her hands rested lightly on his knees, her touch sending electric sparks through his body.

Kaz made a crooked smile, giving in just a little, pulling her back up on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I prefer you up here,” he murmured against her lips, his hands tracing the curve of her back, memorizing every contour.

“Only because you don’t know how good I am down there,” she said playfully, arching her neck to give him better access for a kiss. Her lips met his with a softness that made him forget everything else, the world outside their bubble disappearing.

Her words lingered in his mind, tempting and daring him to let go of his reservations. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if afraid she might vanish. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly.

For a moment, all he could think about was her – the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her breath mingling with his. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to remember the complications and the consequences, but he silenced it, letting himself get lost in the moment.

The sudden sound of the door opening shattered their intimacy. They barely had time to react before Jesper burst in, anger and worry evident in his voice. “Kaz! Where the fuck have you been?”

Kaz and Y/n froze, their faces reflecting the guilt of being caught so red-handed. They knew there was no point in trying to move away from each other. Jesper’s eyes widened further as he registered her presence in Kaz's living room, his shock palpable. “Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted out, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You disappeared for fucking days! I can’t believe you’re with her,” Jesper said in disbelief. “Inej is worried sick, Kaz, and so was I.”

Y/n moved off Kaz’s lap, letting him stand up. Kaz faced Jesper, trying to maintain his composure. “I was in Lij. I had a family thing to fix,” he said confidently. “I just got back.”

Jesper shook his head, incredulous. “And the first person you tell is obviously her? Not your friends, not your girlfriend?” he shot back, his voice dripping with accusation. He glanced between Kaz and Y/n, confusion etched on his face.

Kaz hesitated, caught off guard by Jesper’s directness. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under Jesper’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to explain her presence without making matters worse.

“I…” Kaz started, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexities of their situation.

Jesper’s frustration grew, his disbelief evident. “You were just what? Kaz, what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his tone cutting through the tense silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried, and I haven’t talked to Inej in days. She asked for space, and I gave it to her,” Kaz explained, though it was clear Jesper wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I can go if you have to talk,” Y/n offered gently, trying to defuse the situation. Jesper glared at her, but Kaz spoke first, “No, don’t worry.”

“Of course, Y/n, don’t worry. So as soon as I leave, he can keep cheating on his girlfriend,” Jesper said harshly. “Or wasn’t that what I just interrupted? Are you sleeping together?”

“No, Jesper. It was… just a kiss,” Kaz lied, his voice strained.

“Oh, then everything is alright, just a kiss. Where’s the line, Kaz?” Jesper’s sarcasm was palpable.

“It’s none of your business, Jes,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“It is if you’re hurting my friend.”

Kaz inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “You want to know what happened with Inej?” he asked, releasing a nervous chuckle. “She said that she was with me because she thought I would never be able to touch her.”

Jesper’s surprise was evident, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Yeah, I bet she didn’t tell you that,” Kaz said more quietly, shaking his head.

“That’s fucked up, but it still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on her,” Jesper retorted, though his voice was less confident now.

“I’m not even sure if we’re still together anymore,” Kaz confessed.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kaz, but you can’t behave like this,” Jesper said, his tone softening.

“I need a drink,” Kaz sighed, moving towards the kitchen. He made three drinks and brought them back, handing one to Jesper and another to Y/n.

The three of them sat uncomfortably on the couch, sipping their drinks in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved tension, each sip of their drinks punctuated by the awkwardness that filled the room. Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/n, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He couldn’t help but notice how she had curled up next to Kaz, her body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence despite the situation. Kaz, for his part, seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

Y/n shifted slightly, feeling Jesper’s gaze on her. 

“Oh, you have a lash on your cheek,” Y/n said, her voice a tentative attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung around them. She reached out, her touch gentle as she plucked the lash away from Kaz’s cheek. “Make a wish,” she instructed softly, holding it delicately on her fingertip.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips despite the tension in the room. “Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t,” Y/n insisted, a small smile tugging at her own lips.

He leaned in unexpectedly, catching her off guard by biting her finger lightly instead of making a wish. Y/n let out a surprised laugh, pulling her hand back instinctively. Kaz’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her close against his side, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about their connection.

Jesper watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process the dynamics unfolding before him. Despite the tension and the serious conversation that had preceded this moment, Kaz and Y/n seemed to share a natural ease with each other, a comfort that was palpable even in the midst of their turmoil.

“That was uncalled for,” Y/n chuckled, trying to regain her composure after Kaz’s unexpected move. 

Her phone started buzzing, and she excused herself to another room to take the call. Jesper watched her leave before turning back to Kaz.

“You know what really makes me mad?” Jesper asked, breaking the silence. “It’s that you two look really good together.”

Kaz nodded, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips. Despite everything, he knew there wasn’t going to be a ‘them.’

Kaz sighed heavily, he knew there was no hiding it now, not after Jesper had caught them in such compromising proximity.

“Give her a chance, Jes,” Kaz pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and earnestness. “Me and Inej… I won’t be able to patch things up after what she told me.” His words trailed off, the pain of Inej’s revelation still fresh in his mind. “And Y/n is not the one to blame,” he added quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was the one in a relationship, not her.”

Jesper’s expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation. “I don't like her.”

“You don't like her or you don't like how I handled things?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with a desperate need for clarity.

Jesper looked at him, the tension between them palpable. “Yeah, maybe I don't like you,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide the seriousness in his tone. “But in all honesty, Kaz, it's more about how you handled things. You should have been honest with Inej from the start.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting the inner turmoil he felt. “I know, Jes. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I have no idea of when the things started to become different.”

Jesper sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “It’s always complicated with you, Kaz. But this...this is different.”

Kaz looked up, meeting Jesper’s gaze with a mixture of determination and guilt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Jes. Inej...what she told me. I was wrong to let things go this far without addressing it.”

Jesper’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration remained. “You owe it to both of them to be honest about your feelings and your intentions.”

Kaz nodded, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ramifications of his actions. “I know, and I will. But Y/n...she’s not just a fling, Jes. She means something to me.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, you’re saying you have feelings for her?”

Kaz hesitated, the admission feeling heavier than he anticipated. “Yes, I do. But I also know that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. It’s complicated.”

Jesper shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and resignation on his face. “Complicated seems to be your specialty, Kaz. But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep stringing them along, it’s not fair to anyone.”

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper’s words settling heavily on him. “I know. I need to talk to Inej and figure out where we stand.”

Jesper nodded, his expression still stern but softened by a hint of empathy. “Good. Because if you care about them, you owe it to them to be truthful. And to yourself too.”

Kaz looked at Jesper, gratitude and guilt mingling in his eyes. “Thanks, Jes. I appreciate it.”

Jesper nodded, his tension easing slightly. “Just...don’t make a habit of this, Kaz. You’re a smart guy, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.”

Kaz chuckled, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “You’re not wrong about that.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Kaz knew he had a long road ahead to make things right, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through the mess he had created.

After Jesper left, the air in the room felt thick with the residue of their intense conversation. Kaz and Y/n settled back on the couch, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Kaz, if you want me to go,” she began, her eyes searching his, filled with concern and uncertainty.

“Stay,” he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Can we go to bed? I'm starting to feel all those nights on the hospital chairs,” she sighed, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn.

Kaz nodded, and they made their way to his bedroom. The act of changing clothes and sliding into bed felt almost ritualistic, a comforting routine in the midst of their emotional chaos. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the intimacy of the moment both soothing and unsettling.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Y/n said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything interesting?” Kaz asked, his fingers tracing small patterns on the sheet between them.

“Nah,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

Kaz pulled her closer, the need for physical closeness overpowering his usual reluctance. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him in the moment.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture.

“Overwhelmed,” he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the comfort she offered.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“Can you break up with my girlfriend?” he chuckled dryly, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

Y/n hesitated, the gravity of his statement sinking in. “You’ve decided to do it?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yes, I have to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of determination and regret. “It's the only way to move forward. I can’t keep living like this, hurting everyone involved.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his decision. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” Kaz replied, his voice firm. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

They lay in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the soft sound of their breathing. Kaz’s mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Inej, how to explain everything without causing more pain. He knew it would be a delicate conversation, one fraught with emotion and complexity. But he also knew it was necessary.

“And then what?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

“You know what I want,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

“I can’t give you that right now,” she said softly, her gaze steady but tinged with regret.

“I’ll take what you can,” Kaz replied, his tone resolute. 

“It’s not fair, Kaz.”

“You told me you’re not a nice person,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to start now?”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words. 

“I tried to have the perfect relationship,” he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. “It blew up in my face. So whatever mess you’re down for, I’m in.”

She looked at him, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. The Kaz she knew was always calculating, always had a plan. But here he was, laying his heart bare, willing to dive into the unknown with her.

“Kaz, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “And I don’t want to hurt you. But we’re already in this. We can’t pretend it’s not happening.”

Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The logical part of her knew he was right, but her emotions were a tangled web of fear, desire, and uncertainty.

“No expectations, no promises.” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. 

Kaz nodded, his expression softening.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dark of the room. The enormity of the decisions they were making weighed heavily on them. Despite the gravity of their situation, the warmth of their closeness offered a fleeting sense of peace.

y/n kept shifting, pressing her back on his chest, restless. “Fuck, I was so horny. Damn Jesper,” she whispered, annoyance tinging her voice.

Kaz snorted, grateful for the lightness she brought into the moment. “Yeah, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our evening.”

“Mh, let me hear what you were thinking about,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “Well, for starters, I didn’t plan on being interrupted,” he said, his voice low and intimate. 

“Go on,” she encouraged, her interest piqued.

“I imagined us taking our time. Maybe having a few drinks, and then...” he trailed off, his eyes darkening with desire as he recalled the thoughts that had been running through his mind.

“And then?” she prompted, her breath hitching slightly as his words stirred something deep within her.

“And then, we’d end up back here,” he continued, his voice husky. “But instead of talking about all this heavy stuff, we’d be... exploring each other. Slowly, thoroughly.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, pressing more into him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Kaz chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep now?” she protested, a playful whine in her voice.

Kaz's chuckle deepened, his breath warm against her skin. “Well, maybe there’s something we could do,” he suggested, his hips pressing on her ass. Y/n shivered at his touch, her body responding eagerly to his nearness.

“I like it when you’re not shy,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

“It’s all your fault. You make me forget how to think,” he said between kisses on her neck. His hand made its way between her legs, eliciting a soft moan from her. “How can you be so wet?” he hummed in satisfaction.

“I like dirty talking,” she admitted, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her.

“I barely said anything,” he laughed, clearly pleased with her response.

“I like you telling me finally what you want,” she clarified, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He started moving his hand and his hips, slowly teasing her, building the tension. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” she said after a while, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. “The answer is no.”

Kaz hummed, clearly annoyed. “But it would be so easy to just slip it in,” he murmured, his voice low and tempting.

“Look at you, having sex twice and already asking to do it without protection. You’re such a man,” she said with a small laugh, though her own need was evident.

“You’re on birth control,” he whined weakly, his voice almost a plea. “Please, love.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “I just want to feel you, all of you.”

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering but not yet broken. “Kaz,-” She arched her back, a soft hum escaping her lips. The way he moved against her, the feel of his fingers inside her, was making it hard to refuse. 

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. 

“Begging, Kaz? Really?” Her tone teasing.

“You'll make me shameless as you are, I don’t care about anything else right now. Please, just this once. Let me have all of you.”

“Fine,” she finally whispered, her resolve melting away.

Kaz didn't need any further encouragement. He shifted, aligning himself with her, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and intimate. They moved together in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender.

Her moans were mingling with his groans. The intensity of their passion was almost too much to bear, every touch, every kiss, driving them closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Kaz breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. His voice was ragged, filled with raw desire.

“Baby, let me lay on my stomach,” Y/n urged, her body arching against his in anticipation. She moved to change positions, her eyes locking onto his. “Do you want it sweet or rough?” she asked with a grin, her tone playful yet seductive.

Kaz stood puzzled by the question, the familiar embarrassment regarding his inexperience creeping in. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Sweet it is,” she decided, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his tension. She lay down, raising her hips invitingly. “Come here, lay on me,” she encouraged, her voice soft and reassuring.

Kaz followed her lead, positioning himself over her, his body pressing against hers. Y/n guided his hand to her lower abdomen, her touch gentle yet firm. “Now take this hand, and press here,” she instructed, her voice a mix of authority and affection.

He did as she said, pressing his hand where she indicated, feeling the tautness of her muscles beneath his palm. “Move,” she instructed him, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Kaz began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. He could feel himself going deeper, the pressure of his hand adding a new dimension to their intimacy. The feeling of being so connected, of feeling himself under his hand, was almost too much to bear.

Kaz hissed against her hair, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, I’m not going to last, love,” he admitted, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. “Just let go.”

Encouraged by her words, Kaz allowed himself to lose control, his movements becoming more urgent. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, his desire to be as close as possible. Y/n’s soft moans spurred him on, her body responding to his every touch.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, the world outside their embrace fading away. It was just them, lost in the rhythm of their shared pleasure. Kaz’s hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, grounding him in the here and now, his other hand tangled in her hair.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I'm so close”

“Let go, Kaz,” she urged, her own voice tinged with urgency.

With a final thrust, Kaz obeyed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He buried his face in her hair, his body trembling with the force of his climax, her own pleasure evident in the way she tightened around him, her breathy moans music to his ears.

They lay like that for a while, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The enormity of their connection, the intensity of their shared experience, left them both breathless and satisfied.

As they slowly came down from their high, Kaz pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. Y/n shifted to look at him, her eyes soft and filled with affection, studying his face. There was a tenderness in her gaze, a silent communication that passed between them.

“Don’t say it, Kaz. It’s not true,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

He sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Was it so evident?”

“Yes,” she replied with a soft smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his burgeoning feelings and the reality of their situation. 

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. The vulnerability he felt in her presence was both terrifying and liberating. She had a way of seeing through his walls, of touching the parts of him he kept hidden from the world.

“Are you going to be able to sleep now?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. Her body fit perfectly against his, a warm and reassuring presence. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

Kaz wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. The comfort of her weight against him, the softness of her skin, it all felt so right. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

[ogdoadfates]

#10 Person C helping Person A & B with the grieving process of a loved one. Vaxleth. Sometimes fire means love au. The long since awaited second short story for @ravendruid that took me way too long omg I am so sorry.

The thing about grief is that it never truly leaves you, like the phasmatic pain that keeps reminding you of the limb you lost ages ago. Even when used to the loss it still hurts.

There is different ways it hurts, a physical pang when you find yourself in a situation where you need it most and emotionally like when you find a thing you once loved to do but due to the loss you no longer can.

And sometimes it’s an anniversary, a date in time that causes all the anguish to rear it’s ugly head and hurt those around them.

It was today all those years ago when Vex and Vax’s mom died in a fire that consumed their old family home after a faulty wire finally sparked something it shouldn’t have. 

The twins have been checking every nook and crany of their small apartment, making sure everything is working correctly and that their are zero chances of anything catching fire. They even refuse to cook for the most part but Keyleth guesses thats where she comes in. 

When the twins overwork and worry themselves she’s the one to call Percy in to do an

impromptu inspection of everything and she’s the one to make sure the two get proper meals in. Speaking of which the pizza arrived and Percy has finished checking every possible fire hazard possible in the apartment, giving Vex a hug and a nod  to both Keyleth and Vax as he heads out back to work, taking a slice of the pizza due to Keyleth’s insistence. 

The twins sat on their old couch, shoulder to shoulder, leaning on each other as Trinket lays at their feet. Kayleth sat next to Vax, staring ahead at the pizza slowly getting cold on the twins small coffee table. This part is always draining, silence or gut wretching cries always fill the air when the buzz of movement finally ends and as Vax grabs her hand, giving it a tight squeeze, she could tell today was going to be a day of silence. And in truth words don’t have to be spoken, they’ve by this point told her in the comfort of silence and certainty all thats happened to them, their mother and her passing and in turn Keyleth told them pieces of her past horrors. Not a lot granted, but they didn’t need to have more troublesome thoughts. Not to mention Keyleth would rather suffer in silence, she shouldn’t burden them.

Time passes both in a blink and in agonising length, whenever one of them moved it sped up and whenever movement ceased it lengthened. But it only took a few hours before Trinket decided he needed out and like always Keyleth takes full advantage of it, dragging both twins out of their home and having them join her on a walk throughout the city. All of them including Trinket are silent for the begining half of the walk but as they make more and more distance the more and more life returns to their steps. She can hear Vex snicker as Vax slightly trips due to being distracted by something, she can hear the movement of shoes skidding across the pavement from the soft shove Vax throws Vex’s way. 

Bit by bit, piece by piece, the space around them begins to light up with conversation and laughter is soon to follow along with a few delighted barks from Trinket. Keyleth doesn’t dare hide her smile as the twins tension finally leaves them, the two playfully teasing each other and sometimes Keyleth herself as they finally head back, all of them silhouette in the setting suns golden glow.

[inkformyblood]

something sweet something new (CWFKB #15)

Fill for Tender kiss, obligatory coffee shop AU, modern setting @codywanfirstkissbingo

The bell above the door chimes and Obi-Wan swallows back a groan along with the scaldingly sweet dregs of his drink. The limited edition syrups wash over his palette with all of the subtlety of the line woven around the scant handful of tables, expectant eyes locking onto Obi-Wan. It isn’t too far away from how he watches Cody; a desperate clawing hunger that can only be blunted and never satiated, and Obi-Wan smiles at the next customer in the queue, an old ache beginning to burrow into his cheeks. 

“Welcome! What can I get for you?”

In the moments between, amongst the hissing rush of steam from the failing coffee machine and the whir of the grinder that makes its displeasure known each and every time it deigns to function, Obi-Wan watches Cody. His apron is neatly tied around his waist, the deep red of the festive accessories perfectly complimenting his dark eyes and hair, the golden wash of glitter streaked over his cheekbones, and his shirt has something emblazoned across it beneath his apron that Obi-Wan can just make out the shape of. A mug lands on the saucer in front of Obi-Wan, mismatched red to the delicate floral pattern emblazoned around the rim of the plate, and he blinks down at it, his thoughts disrupted and crashing into each other in one glorious pile-up. He has the large iced mocha already set to one side, just waiting the whipped cream and skin-staining sprinkles to adorn it, and the triple shot latte which barely passes muster but he knows the dead-eyed stare of the regular well enough by now and he can remember his own days as a student vividly so he doesn’t argue, so what is the newest concoction that Cody had delivered to him? He glances up, raising his brows at Cody in a silent question. 

“It’s for you,” Cody calls, grinning widely over at Obi-Wan and his heart stutters to an expectant stop in his chest, restarting when Obi-Wan coughs, a flush overtaking his face, and he looks away. Cody continues, unperturbed. “Let me know what you think.”

There isn’t much of a lull during the festive season, what would have been long stretches of time with minimal foot traffic and too many hours since his break and to quitting time at once are now disjointed and impossible to predict. The mug sits untouched until the current rush subsides, barely enough space to think let alone hide behind the bulk of the coffee machine to sip at the mug. It haunts him, however, the thought of it innocently huddled on the counterr, doing nothing more than existing but Obi-Wan is consumed by it. “Thank you!” Obi-Wan repeats, his grin verging on plastic, as artificial as the sweetness lingering over the back of his tongue and the canned music spilling from the speakers. It is a small mercy that it is a collection of instrumental tracks instead of the hit singles that would make his ears bleed by the second shift. 

Cody hums along with the music, punctuating the beat by tapping a pen against the top of the register. It is a heavyset machine, the buttons polished to high sheen, and the gentle hits from Cody reverberate dully beneath the offbeat tune. Obi-Wan drifts back to his usual spot and picks up the mug. It’s cooled somewhat but still has some warmth lingering so Obi-Wan sets his back against the counter as he picks it up, shielding himself from any potential customers who would wander in for the next couple of minutes. The drink is sweet, warmed through with spices and Obi-Wan groans into the mug, tipping his head back as he drains it. 

“Good?” Cody slides along the counter, picking up a cloth from the cleaning solution and beginning to wipe down the already clean wood. He’s a line of heat against Obi-Wan’s side, a blessing given the thin fabric of his shirt as he had discarded his jumper into the breakroom several hours ago. 

Obi-Wan nods, his teeth knocking against the edge of the mug as he does so. He licks his lips, chasing remnants of the drink. “Very. What is it?” 

“You know how we got that gingerbread syrup that tastes more like faintly sweet nothing?”

Obi-Wan nods, shifting to lean further into Cody.

“I made my own.” Cody shrugs, trying to downplay his creation, but there’s a flush over the tips of his ears and his gaze sneaks back to inspect the mug in Obi-Wan’s hands too many times to be pure coincidence. 

“You are a wonder, Cody.” 

The bell rings and they both lean out around the machine, relaxing back when they recognise a familiar face, Rex’s blonde hair mussed from the damp cap held in one hand as he knocks his boots clean. Rex snorts and Cody leans back out, the cloth balled up in his hand and ready to be thrown despite the deliberate casual lean against the clounter. “What’s funny?”

“You know you’re beneath mistletoe, right? Bad luck to break tradition.”

It doesn’t save him from the cloth thrown at his head and Rex ducks with a laugh. Cody rocks back onto his heels but Obi-Wan isn’t looking, tracking his movement out of the corner of his eye. Rex is right. The plant is innocuous, a cluster of pale berries amongst the dark green sweep of the leaves, all tied up above Obi-Wan and Cody with a neat red ribbon. 

“Fuck,” Cody sighs. He scrubs a hand through his curls, biting at the tip of his tongue. Obi-Wan waits, his heart in his throat, his mind empty, and Cody glances over at him. “Would– Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” 

Cody cups Obi-Wan’s jaw, drawing him down into a kiss. It’s everything Obi-Wan had hoped it would be and his hands fall to Cody’s waist, gathering his apron in the desperate press of his palms. It’s soft and sweet and Obi-Wan hums low in his throat, leaning closer. Breaking away, Cody leans back in and kisses Obi-Wan once more, his grin wide enough to hurt.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Cody murmurs against Obi-Wan’s mouth. He rocks back on his heels and tugs the neck of his apron down to reveal a graphic of mistletoe inverted. “Started to feel a little desperate.”

“You’re welcome!” Rex calls and Cody curses at him as Obi-Wan folds into laughter, pressing his hands to his burning cheeks. 

[sadinasaphrite]

Friday Nights Ch 5

If anyone missed it, Chapter five of my Bloodweave Professor Gale AU went up two days ago.

Read on AO3!

“For Thursday, please review your study guides and come prepared with any questions! Our final exam is one week from today, Tuesday at 10:30,” Gale shouted over the sound of his students gathering up their things and leaving. “Please make use of the study groups! If you need accommodations, please email me or come talk during my office hours!”

As his students filed out of the lecture hall, Mystra walked in and Gale was struck by a sick sense of deja vu. He ignored her and packed up his notes and laptop. The sharp click of heels approached him.

“Gale.”

Gale looked up and pretended to be surprised.

“What’s this? Mystra! My goodness, I didn’t know you still worked here! I’ve certainly not seen your face since you broke my heart.”

Mystra sighed and folded her arms. “I suppose it was too much to expect you to be mature about this.”

“Who’s being immature?” Gale asked with a huff. “Apart from a few curt emails, you’ve been avoiding me since you tried to ruin my life last semester.”

“Don’t pretend this is my fault, Gale. You did this to yourself,” Mystra said, infuriatingly calm and collected. She held up a hand as Gale started to protest. “And I’m not going to argue the point. I’m not here to talk about that.”

“Then why are you here, Mystra?” Gale snapped.

“The artifact is being transferred to another institution,” she said. “I need to know if you have any remaining research notes.”

Gale stopped as if he’d been slapped.

“Transferred?” He asked. “You didn’t crack it? Where is it going?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she said. “Your research notes?”

“I gave everything I had to Khelben. But give me until tomorrow and I can write up everything about how this curse has affected me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mystra said. “We aren’t divulging what your little failed experiment did.”

“What!?” Gale hadn’t meant to shout, and by the look on Mystra’s face, she was as surprised as he was.

“Surely you don’t want more institutions to know how badly you failed?” Mystra asked, recovering quickly. “Are you actually asking I spread your folly through the arcane academic community like gossip?”

“Well… no, but—”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss.” Mystra turned away.

“—but I was under the impression you were researching the cause and cure for my condition along with the artifact!” Gale followed after her. “You told me to keep it quiet, I assumed you were doing something about it!”

“There’s nothing to be done, Gale. You’ll just need to accept you won’t have the arcane power you used to have.”

“Power? You think that’s all this is? You think consuming my magic stores is all that’s happened? My blood is black!” Gale roared at her retreating back.

Mystra stopped.

“I’ve been ignoring it because you asked me to. Because I thought you were doing something to help. I foolishly assumed you wouldn’t just hang me out to dry, that everything we had still meant something, even if it was over. That I wasn’t just being cast aside and forgotten.” Gale let out a shaking breath and continued. “Whenever I stop to think about it, whenever I stop pretending everything is fine, I’m terrified. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. What if I’m dying?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? How do you know? You said this thing is feeding off me. Is it really only feeding on my magic? What else is it doing? Why is my blood black? How long do I have left to live?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Mystra said, turning around. “If you stop to think—”

“Oh, I assure you, I have,” Gale interrupted. “I’m quite positive that I’ve given more thought to this than you.”

“I have thought about it,” Mystra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “However, for the good of the university—”

“Then I hope the university helps my mother pay for the funeral,” Gale snapped. “I’ll let her know to send you the bill.”

“Gale, don’t be like that,” Mystra said. “Despite what you may think of me, I do still worry about you. When I think of you alone in that condo…”

“Oh, I’m not alone.” A swell of warmth filled Gale’s chest, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug vindictiveness.

Mystra rolled her eyes. “When I think of you and your tressym, alone in your condo—”

“We’re not alone,” Gale continued. “I know you think highly of yourself, but I have someone else now. He’s been living with me for months. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have office hours I need to attend.”

He brushed past her.

“Gale, wait!”

He let the door close in her face and retreated to his office, feeling quite pleased with himself. To hell with this. He didn’t need her help. He’d manage on his own.

Keep reading on AO3!

[waltwhitmansbeard]

my fair lady: drabble #15

ok i need someone to physically take this keyboard away from. this drabble stems from this ask for a h/c prompt ask meme that i received a couple of weeks ago, and it led me to writing this little thing that i had previously considered writing but decided not to, so anon, this your fault. as always, read these first and read @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au! a tw on this one for, like, vague contemplations about maybe some nonconsensual things potentially happening in the past that didn't happen but could have, if that makes sense. nothing explicit for sure.

Keyleth has been staring at the same page of this book for well over an hour. She's changed seats four times, wandering from the settee to the bed to the floor to the window—but her mind is far from her chambers, where she waits and fails to occupy herself alone. Instead, she is consumed by thoughts of what is happening right now down in the dungeons below the castle.

It's been two days since Prince Tiberius had Gaben Finefirn dropped unceremoniously at their gate, and at no point during these two days has she been been allowed to face her murderer. Of course, only a handle of people know that Finefirn killed her, her father very much not among them, so the depths of her desperation to confront him go unseen by those with the power to grant her her wish.

Vax knows. Vax sees it in her pacing, in the circles under her eyes, in her tense jolts at every unidentified sound. He hears it in her pleading, begging him to help her convince her father to let her go down there and look that wretched man in the eyes—but Vax, traitor that he is, is on her father's side in the matter. He has implored her just as fervently to stay here, to keep out of the dungeons and far from Finefirn, which is of course ridiculous. The mage is strung up in irons with no ability to cast spells, thanks to Lady Allura's fine arcane work. She will be surrounded by guards with no chance of coming to any harm.

But just as Vax sees her restlessness up here, so too does she see his desperation to never have her and that man breathing the same air again. He is far quieter in his supplications; he ducks his head down against hers and whispers his pleas for her to stay. And what is she to say to him? She does not know what it is to watch one's love die, to hold one's spouse's corpse and weep, to beseech the gods for mercy with no hope of receiving any. She does know how their encounter in this room affected him, affects him still, and so, as desperate as she is to claw Finefirn's eyes from his head herself, she remains, though she does not enjoy the experience.

It is especially cruel that she must wait alone, but Percy and Pike are in a Council meeting all day, and Vax is down in the dungeons himself, assisting in the interrogation of the mage in question. Keyleth believes this is part of his reluctance to let her come and see things for herself; she knows he is loath to have her witness the more...unsavory aspects of his line of work. She is bitterly jealous, though, and hopes that whatever they're doing down there yields something useful for the crown.

It is nearing supper when the door to the chambers finally swings open, and Keyleth abandons her book immediately. "Vax." She darts from her spot by the window to his side as he toes off his boots. "How did it go?"

She notices immediately that his movements are stiff, as if he's forgotten how to use his joints and ligaments. She also notices how he is avoiding her eyes, looking past her toward the rest of the room. "It was...unpleasant, to say the least."

"Come." She takes him by the arm and leads him over the settee. As she brushes his long hair back from his face, she spies a spot of blood, just beneath his jaw, and she knows at once that it isn't his. "Vax." He blinks to indicate he's heard her, but still he will not meet her gaze. She looks down at the hands in his lap. "Your hands are shaking." She wraps her own hands around his to still their tremble. "What happened down there?"

It takes him a long time to answer. Still staring at the cold hearth, he eventually whispers, "You are never to go see him."

For the first time, she doesn't argue. "Did...did he hurt you? Or any of the others?" She knows that the goal of these interrogations is to discover if Finefirn had any other plots in motion, if he was working with others on his schemes, but she cares little for that information right now. It is the interrogators themselves she worries for.

He shakes his head. "I'm fine." This is a clear lie. "I just...it was a very long day, Kiki."

She presses herself against his side, hopes that she can ground him here, in this room. "Please tell me. I do not wish to stay in the dark, and I do not wish for you to bear the weight of this alone."

"There are things...things I cannot repeat aloud."

She is confused. "Things you did?"

Another shake of the head. "Things he said."

Oh. Well, she can imagine that Finefirn had quite a few things to say about his captors, about the crown, about her. She is dying to know what they were, but can also see by the tension in Vax's every line his unwillingness to share them. "Were...there threats made?" Vax's eyes slide closed, and she knows she's touched something with her question. "You know he can't hurt me, not anymore, not as he is. And he'll be dead before long, where he can't hurt anyone else."

"It doesn't stop his words from being the most vile things I could ever imagine."

Distressed as he is, Keyleth cannot help but wish he would tell her anyway, rather than let her imagine for herself what these words could be. She thinks of that night, when he appeared so abruptly in this very room, when he saw her, bare and vulnerable, in a way she had only ever let one other see her. She imagines what he might have to say about that, what pictures he might have conjured in Vax's head that haunt him still. She wonders then what his plan was that night, if he had had more in store for her than her death, if he had been forced to adapt by Vax's unexpected presence.

A chill ripples down her spine, and she squeezes Vax's hands harder. "I will now make of you the same request you've made of me: do not go back to see him again."

For the first time, he looks at her, eyes wide and full of more emotions that Keyleth can name. "I need to go. I will pry the information out of him if I have to flay it from his skin."

"There are others who are accomplished in such areas, and I'm sorry, but that information is not worth this." She lets go of his hands to place hers on either side of his face. "This pain in your eyes. No man should have to interrogate the person who killed his wife, especially when so few know he did it. Let the others handle it, please. It is difficult enough for me to remain behind while go you and subject yourself to his deviance; do not also ask me to have to watch that deviance torture you from the inside."

His eyes search hers, and she hopes that all he finds in them are her determination and sincerity. Eventually, he surges forward, capturing her lips in a kiss. There is a desperation in it, a fear, a hunger, and she lets him cling onto her like a piece of driftwood in the ocean. His hands, still tremulous, come to rest along the sides of her neck, and she folds into him, letting him feel the wholeness of her body. He is still shaking as she coaxes him into laying down on the settee, as she drapes herself atop him like a blanket. She rests her chin over his shoulder and murmurs, "I am here, I am safe, I am alive. That horrid little man is nothing, and when he is rotting in some forgotten grave, I will still be here with you."

He nods and wraps his arms around her, pulling her in closer. They lie like this, her pressed down onto him, until his breathing slows and his trembling ceases. They are late for supper, but she does not care; she would rather starve than let him sit in this darkness alone for even a moment.

[gabseyoo]

Jealous.

pairing: getō suguru x fem!reader | wc: 5k.

summary: Getō Suguru and you only have a friends with benefits relationship, just sex, no feelings, no commitments. He knows this very well, but after an unexpected encounter with your ex, he can’t help but feel something he shouldn’t: jealousy. 

warnings: college!au, fwb to lovers, lovesick!suguru, love confession, jealousy, possessive behavior, alcohol use, exhibitionism, car sex, dry humping, marking, spanking, fingering, spit as lube, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is a tease.

Suguru drank from his freshly poured beer, furrowing his brow at the strong taste but still took another sip. He was at one of his friend's party, standing in the middle of the kitchen with his best friend, Satoru, who kept talking about a video game he’s been obsessed with lately. At first, he was paying attention even though he didn’t understand what the fuck he was talking about, but his attention was stolen when he saw a female figure he knew a little too well in the living room. 

“I wanted to buy more, but I ran out of primogems and—” 

“Wait a second.” He cut his friend off to make sure it wasn’t his imagination, but no, she really was here.

Satoru frowned in confusion, but when he looked to where Suguru’s eyes were fixed, a smirk appeared on his face, “Oh, look who’s there.” 

“I’ll be back.”

“Simp.” 

The black-haired man just rolled his eyes at his friend's mockery and grabbed an extra cup of beer before heading towards the living room. 

“Hey.” Suguru greeted you while sitting next to you on that old blue couch. “Didn’t know you were coming.” He added handing you the red cup, which you accepted with a smile before speaking, 

“It was supposed to be a movie night, but Utahime wanted to come.” You nodded to your friend who was passionately playing beer pong paired with Shoko on the other side of the room. “Not complaining, tho. I like the vibe.” 

“This is the song you like, isn’t it?” He pointed out when he recognized the beat of Kiss Me More in the background. 

“I love Doja Cat so fucking much.” You leaned your head back against the back of the couch and closed your eyes, enjoying the obscene words of the song that Suguru knew perfectly from listening to you sing it so many times. “Where’s Satoru?”

“Flirting with a girl, maybe.” He said playfully, smiling to himself as he watched you let out a chuckle at his words. Of course he wasn’t going to tell you that he left him stranded in the kitchen to come talk to you. 

“No way? That’s like, super weird.” You stated sarcastically as you opened your eyes to meet Geto’s intense dark ones that hadn’t stopped staring at you since he sat down next to you. You licked your lips before continuing the conversation, “How did your test go?” 

What kind of relationship do you and Suguru have? It’s kind of complicated. Well, not so much for you, but for him. 

You had been in the same circle of friends since early college, casually hanging out in groups at coffee shops or parties; he always thought you were a pretty attractive woman, but never tried to make a move on you. Until eight months ago. When you had both ended up at his apartment at two in the morning, drunk, but not enough to forget when you woke up in each other’s arms the mind-blowing sex you had had in the wee hours of the morning. 

To his surprise, it was you who suggested that it not end in a one-night stand, sure enough, he accepted immediately. Since then, almost every weekend—or even weekdays—, Suguru found himself between your legs, touching and licking every inch of your precious body, kissing your lips and moaning your name over and over again.  

But as most of the time happens in a friends-with-benefits relationship, someone has to fall first. And unfortunately, that was him. 

The love he felt for you was consuming him completely, just two weekends ago Satoru had to confiscate his phone because he got drunk and all he wanted was to confess his feelings to you with tears in his eyes while a Taylor Swift song played in the background. 

Geto was tired of having you without actually having you. He wanted whatever you had to have an official label. He wanted all the early morning showers, dinner dates or late night texting you used to have to be with his girlfriend, not with the girl he happens to have sex with. 

Sometimes, he liked to fantasize about what it would be like if you were officials. Maybe post you on social media, with one of those stupid Instagram filters you like so much, comment on your photos, hold hands in public while walking your dogs, meeting your parents, tell the world you are his, but— he wasn’t even sure if you were or wanted to be. 

It bothered him more that your relationship was not even a secret, all your friends knew what you usually do. It was normal for them to see you two kissing in the middle of a party and leaving together, or refusing outings saying that you already have plans with each other. It bothered him because he couldn't even victimize himself by saying that he was a dirty little secret, he just wanted you to reciprocate his feelings. 

Yes, it was his fault, you were honest from the beginning, you said it was just casual and that there would be no feelings involved, but the heart wants what it wants. 

Well, let’s stop being sentimental.

So right now, he’s content to be in conversation with you. Your hand had moved from your knee to his, casually making imaginary shapes with your index finger as he told you about his week. You were normally quite touchy with each other, so it wasn’t uncommon, but he couldn���t help but feel his heart race at the mere physical contact. 

But your pleasant conversation was interrupted by a guy who suddenly sat down on the armrest next to you. 

“Didn’t expect to meet you here, Y/N.” The man stole your attention, a half smile appeared on your face as you recognized him and for the same reason Suguru’s smile disappeared. “How are you, pretty?” He asked leaning over to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. Geto could do nothing but distract himself by drinking his beer. “I haven’t seen you for three months.” Three months?

“I’m fine— I’m the one who didn’t expect to meet you here.” You responded with some nervousness in your voice, “Suguru, you remember Naoya, right?” You turned to look at him pointing your thumb at the blonde guy. 

“Yeah.” Hell he does. 

He never interacted or talked much with him, but of course he knew who he was— your ex-boyfriend. 

You and Naoya Zen’in had dated for almost two years but broke up a couple of months before you and Suguru started your thing. As far as he knew your relationship with Naoya was pretty stormy and toxic and that’s why you decided to break up for good. That’s why Geto had never considered him a ‘threat’, but seeing him come and talk to you so naturally, even using a nickname, and him saying that you hadn’t seen him for three fucking months, made his stomach turn. 

“Hey.” Naoya greeted him with a casual nod and he did the same, but the blond returned his attention to you immediately. “Anyway, I texted you yesterday, you didn’t reply.”

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Doing what?” He interrogated, clearly annoyed with your curt reply. Naoya seemed to notice the hand you had on Suguru’s knee, because he frowned and licked his lip before asking, “You guys are dating or something?” 

For some reason, Geto got his hopes up for a moment, expecting to hear a yes or at least a ‘something like that’, even if it was a lie, you recognizing him as something else in front of Naoya was enough to—

“We’re just friends.” You answered, removing your hand from his knee to see your perfectly manicured nails. 

A kick in the balls would have hurt less. 

Suguru didn’t want to admit how affected he felt by it, it was the truth, just the harsh truth and yet he decided to hurt himself by waiting for another answer. He was just a friend with whom you had sex without commitment, it was obvious that you wouldn’t say that to your ex.

Naoya just nodded and drank from his red cup before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, the black-haired noticed how you tensed. He just wanted to hit him, push him and tell him not to dare touch you, but he knew he had no right to do so and that the least you would like was to make a scene. 

The sudden sound of a notification on his phone brought him out of his thoughts—he hadn’t even realized he had clenched his fists—he sighed before reaching into his pocket for his device. 

Satoru: 

u better fight for your princess ‘cause it looks like she’s being stolen from you :p 

do something

tell him to fuck off

He frowned and looked around for his best friend, finding him a few meters behind him along with Nanami. The white-haired man waved his hands at him, telling him to get rid of Naoya. That’s what he wanted the most, the problem was that he didn't know how. 

He turned, ignoring how you were having a hushed conversation with your ex to type on his phone,

Suguru: 

what the hell do i do?

Satoru: 

for god’s sake, you’re hopeless 

leave it to me, hold on

“Is that the scrunchie I gave you?” He heard Naoya say, out of curiosity he turned to look at you, your ex was fiddling with your low ponytail, his eyes fixed on the pink scrunchie that tied your hair. 

“Is it?” You brought your hand to the back of your head, undoing the improvised ponytail you had made to look at the hair tie, the movement pushing your ex’s hand away. Suguru swore he could almost see hearts in Naoya’s eyes when you let your hair down. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, he was about to explode. He had seen you use that same scrunchie dozens of times, and knowing that it was your asshole ex-boyfriend who gave it to you made him feel ten times worst. 

“Yeah. You still use it, huh?” 

“Well, I’m using it now, isn’t that a yes?” You said tying your hair back up. Geto could notice how you were downplaying what Naoya said, and that appeared to irritate the blond, who didn't seem to be giving up. 

C’mon Suguru, do something. Do fucking something. 

“Y/N, are you doing some—” Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a six-foot-two man who suddenly appeared at his side. 

“Zen’in! Long time no see!” Satoru greeted cheerfully, hooking his arm over Naoya’s shoulders making him stand next to him. “Hey Y/N, I didn’t see you there, you don’t mind if I steal him for a while, do you?”

“He’s all yours.” 

“Wait! Gojo—” Naoya tried to break free from the grip but failed in the attempt. 

“The boys are asking for you, let’s go play beer pong!” He shouted practically dragging your ex with him. The white-haired man looked over his shoulder, mouthing a get out of here to his best friend before pulling Naoya out to the garden. 

Well— Satoru was more useful than he thought.

“Thank God.” You sang, stretching your arms back in relief. “He keeps insisting that he wants us to get back together.”

Suguru gulped, his fists clenched again and he felt a knot in his stomach. He was hurt and overthinking, what he had witnessed between you and your ex had affected him too much. You have no right to feel this way, he reminded himself. 

But still, he couldn’t help the anger that was building inside him. Jealousy was eating him alive. 

It’s time to do something. 

“Y/N—” You looked at him waiting for his next words, “Let’s get out of here.” 

And without a second thought, Suguru grabbed your wrist to pull you up from the couch and move through the party crowd towards the exit. You followed him without putting up any resistance or trying to free yourself from his grip, asking questions like: Where are we going? Are you okay? Which he chose to ignore. 

The cold air hit your bodies as soon as you left the house and walked down the dark street until you reached his car. Instead of opening the passenger door, he opened the back one and told you to get in, after looking at him with confusion, you obeyed his words and he got in after you, closing the door with a loud thump and locking it. 

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? Why all of a sud—” He didn’t let you finish speaking when his lips were already on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth when you reciprocated his kiss immediately. 

You leaned your body against the door as Geto intensified the kiss, moaning into his mouth and resting your pretty hands on his shoulders. 

“Suguru—” You called his name in the middle of the kiss, but he was unwilling to separate his lips from yours. 

You had no idea how much he enjoyed kissing you, tasting the different flavors of gloss you used, having his mouth and face stained with your lipstick, he could kiss you for hours without getting tired. 

This kiss was passionate, intense, even a little aggressive. You had kissed like this before, what made it different was what he wanted to convey to you with it— how much he adored you and how incredibly irritated he was with the appearance of your ex.  

His hands went to your waist to pull you closer to him before he leaned back against the backrest, making you straddle his lap. He stroked from your back to your thighs, then squeezed your buttocks under your dress. 

The moment he left your lips to kiss your neck, you took the opportunity to finally speak, “Why are you acting so weird?” 

Suguru tried to remind himself not to get carried away, he had to think before he spoke. But the next words had already left his mouth before he could even think of stopping them, 

“Why are you using the scrunchie he gave you?” 

He didn’t have the courage to look you in the face—instead he concentrated on spreading more kisses on your neck—but he bet you frowned at his random question. 

“I don’t know? I have dozens of these, I just pick the one that goes best with my outfit.” You said, lifting your head a little to give him more access to your skin. “I didn’t even remember Naoya gave it to me until he mentioned it.”

He didn’t expect you to actually give him an explanation, he expected at most a ‘not your problem’ or a ‘because I want to’. Your words should have given him peace of mind, but that feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away, much less with your ex’s name coming from your lips. 

Geto sucked the skin under your ear, leaving a mark for sure. Your hands tightened on his broad shoulders, and you began to move your hips in a slow rhythm, grinding your crotch against his. 

“Take it off.”

“Huh? Why?” You muttered, moaning softly when he sucked again, this time at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He didn’t miss the teasing tone of your voice when you added, “You don’t like it?” 

He didn’t think twice before replying with a clear and sharp, “No.”

“Why not?”

It was at that moment when Suguru finally had the courage to look at your face, and he had to restrain himself from sighing— with the little light he could see that your lips were swollen and your eyes had that gleam he liked so much. You’re gorgeous. 

Instead of answering right away, he placed his hand on your cheek and caressed your skin with his thumb for a few seconds before moving it behind your head, right where your ponytail started, to grab the scrunchie that was annoying him so much and slowly remove it. When he loosened your hair, he pulled the pink hair tie to the side and with his fingers began to stroke your hair before moving it to the side, freeing your neck for him to kiss it once more. 

“Because he gave it to you” He admitted, he had already come this far and believed he shouldn’t stop. If you were going to reject him, call him crazy and end what you had—even when the last thing he wanted was to lose you—he should hear that now, so he would have more time to heal instead of continuing to dig himself into a hole. 

“It’s just a scrunchie.” You positioned your hand on the back of his neck to stroke his hair, and without hesitation, you asked, “Are you jealous?”

He’s fucked. It was no longer worth denying the obvious. 

“What if I am?”

“We’ll have to end this.” There was no way you could mean it, not when you had even started to move your hips over his hard cock with more pressure. 

“I don’t think you really want that.” He replied with a smirk, pointing to the way you were getting off on top of his bulge with a nod of his head, to which you responded with a sarcastic chuckle. 

“Don’t be so confident.” You said between your teeth, trying to contain the sighs of pleasure that wanted to come out of you. “Gonna tell me why you’re jealous?”

Suguru decided to pull down your dress to free your breasts, instantly cupping them with his large hands to caress your erect nipples with his thumbs while leaving wet kisses on your shoulder.

You didn’t seem to like how he ignored your words, because with the hand you had previously placed in his hair you pulled him away from your skin and forced him to look at you. Instead of saying something at that moment, you ran your tongue over your lips before kissing him again, moaning at the feeling of his erection against your covered clit one more time.

When he felt your hands on the edge of his shirt, he helped you by lifting his arms so you could take it off and expose the muscular torso he knew you loved. 

“Does it piss you off that someone has fucked me before?” You questioned with a mocking tone. 

“Shut up.” He spat and pushed his body forward aggressively, he made sure to grab you around the waist to keep you from falling backwards onto the center console. Your arms sought support on the headrests of the front seats. 

It was obvious that one of his favorite parts of your body were your tits, because his mouth went back to making circular movements with his tongue on your nipple. The hand that was on your waist moved down to the middle of your legs, you moaned with anticipation as he began to brush his thumb over your underwear.  

“Is that a yes?” Your tone of voice showed that you were beginning to despair at the lack of answers from him, but you had to be patient, there were things he needed to know before he would respond to your words. 

“When was the last time you fucked him?” He asked suddenly, pulling your breast out of his mouth only to appreciate the moment when his hand pushed aside your panties and his fingers began to play with the fluids in your slit. 

You pushed your hips forward urging him to insert his fingers, he wanted to keep teasing you a little, but you looked so pretty at this moment that it was almost impossible for him to deny you what you wanted, so he inserted two fingers slowly. 

“Fuck— Does it matter?” 

“Tell me.” 

“Why should I? You haven’t wanted to tell me that—” A spank on the exposed skin of your butt cut off your words, no doubt you were surprised, but Suguru knew how to recognize when you liked something, and clearly his sudden rough treatment did. 

“Fuckin’ tell me.” He curved his fingers making sure to touch that sweet spot inside you, “C’mon I’m listening.”

You sighed as your grip on the headrests intensified, digging your nails into the material as you felt his blessed fingers pleasure you with perfection. 

“I think—fuck—three months ago.” 

Suddenly, his movements stopped. Suguru believed that even his breathing and heart did when he heard you. 

“What?”

It didn’t bother him that you had sex with other men before him, he knew perfectly well that you were a single woman and could do whatever you wanted with your body. But he couldn’t deny it, the thought of Naoya’s dirty hands on your precious body made his chest ache because he wasn’t just another man, he was your ex, someone you had an emotional connection with in the past and it got under his skin because he wanted that.

He felt cheated, betrayed, angry. It was wrong, you didn’t owe him anything, it was part of your agreement, and he felt like a hypocrite because at least in the first few months he had started sleeping with you, he had also been with other girls. But he didn’t know whether to be ashamed or proud that when his feelings for you began to evolve— suddenly the desire to be with someone other than you disappeared. So yes, for the last four months he’s only had sex with you, and for some naive reason, he expected you to do the same. 

“We were drunk” You quickly clarified, but that didn’t make him feel better, quite the contrary. “I don’t want it to happen again.” 

“I see.” He muttered after withdrawing his fingers without looking at your face, not wanting you to see through him and realize how hurt he felt. 

But apparently, you did.

“Suguru, I’m sorry.” The fact that you said sorry caught him off guard; as he stated earlier, you didn’t owe him anything, but somehow it filled him with hope— was there any small chance that you felt something more for him?

The need to show you everything he felt, to prove to you that he was the man you deserved multiplied. 

He grabbed you by the jaw with one hand to pull you close to him and bring your lips to his in a passionate kiss once again. His tongue slipped into your mouth, still tasting the flavor of the drink he offered you earlier and your hands went to his shoulders where you dug your nails when he bit your lower lip. 

“You can do whatever you want, there’s no need to say sorry.” He mumbled still with his lips on yours. “But I think I’ll need to fuck you enough to erase all traces of him, then.”

“You better.”

Geto’s hands worked quickly at unbuttoning his pants to pull them down along with his boxers, just enough to free his throbbing cock and wrap his fingers around it to stroke it up and down. He muttered a profanity at the feeling of relief he gave himself while you lifted your hips and pushed your underwear aside, waiting for him. 

“Spit on it— yes, fuck.” He began to lubricate his long shaft after you dropped your saliva on the tip, only to seconds later line it up against your wet entrance. “Sit, baby.” 

You heeded his command and began to slowly lower your hips; you closed your eyes as you felt his cock enter between your tight walls. His eyes were fixed on the spot where your body and his became one, it was always a delight for him to witness how your little pussy managed to swallow him completely. 

He threw his head back against the backrest, enjoying the moment when your buttocks met his thighs. You felt so warm and tight, there was no pussy like yours and that was confirmed every time he was deep inside you. 

Geto let out a guttural sound as you started to move your hips, sucking him every time you went down as deliciously as ever. God, he had fucked you too many times and in different positions, but he could never get enough of you— you certainly had him in the palm of your hand. 

The slight bouncing of your breasts invited him to take one into his mouth, savoring the taste of your skin with pleasure as he brought his hands to your hips to guide your sensual movements to his liking. 

The windows began to fog up as the moans of the two of you became louder and louder. For a moment Geto forgot that you were in his car, parked a few meters from the house where the party was, that anyone could pass by and realize what you were doing in there because it was too obvious thanks to the fogged windows and the movement of the vehicle, but that didn’t matter to him in the least, especially when he had a goddess like you riding him. 

He ran his tongue from your chest to your collarbones before resting his cheek on your shoulder as he felt his climax near. 

“You’re perfect.” He murmured in the middle of his gasps. “So damn perfect that you drive me crazy.” One of his hands went to the middle of your legs to circle your clit and rush an orgasm out of you, a loud grunt came from his throat when your walls squeezed him hard from the stimulation.

“Do I?”

“You fucking do. I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, I want you all to myself.” He knew he was saying too much in the heat of the moment, that there was a possibility that you would end this and that meant he wouldn’t have you in his life at all; but the words came from his heart and his mouth was unable to stop them. 

“You said I can do whatever I wanted— fuck.” Your hands tightened on his shoulders the closer you got to your peak. 

“I know what I said but—god—that doesn’t mean I like the idea.” He admitted, finally raising his head to meet your eyes and see the smile that appeared on your face. You started to move your hips faster, with the purpose of making him explode as soon as possible.

The words were left aside when you closed your eyes as Suguru pressed his fingers harder, making your legs tremble and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the moment you reached your climax. His own orgasm didn’t take long, he stifled his moans by joining your lips in another kiss as he spilled his warm cum inside you. 

You were both sweaty and a panting mess, the heat in the car was immense and Suguru had the urge to reach over to start the vehicle to turn on the AC or at least roll down the windows; but he gave up the idea when you leaned over him. He could feel your heartbeat because your chest was against his, smell the scent of your shampoo from your head resting on his shoulder and the softness of your fingers as your hands caressed his ribs. It was such an intimate moment that he wouldn’t dare to interrupt, so he kissed the top of your head and wrapped his muscular arms around you to feel you closer to him. 

He doesn’t know how long you were like this, enjoying each other’s vital sounds, it could be a few minutes or more than an hour, but it’s not like he cares either. Having the woman he loved in his arms always made him lose track of time. 

The sudden sound of your voice calling his name brought him out of his thoughts, for a moment he thought you had fallen asleep, “Yes, angel?” 

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes again, your noses almost brushed mingling their breaths. 

“Are you gonna tell me why now?” You asked in a whisper, picking up on the previous conversation. You tucked behind his ear one of the strands of black hair that had slipped into his face, the act was so affectionate that it almost made Suguru shed a tear. 

Geto gulped. Well, it was now or never.

“I-I love you.” 

God, he actually did it. He confessed. His heart stopped for a moment waiting for your answer, although it only took a few seconds, it felt like an eternity for him. 

“Finally.” Wait, what? “I was beginning to think you’d never say it.”

You didn’t give him time to assimilate your words when you kissed him, cupping his face between the palms of your hands to hold him closer to you. 

“Love you too.” You added, leaving a peck on his lips. His heart began to race as he found it hard to believe that this was really happening, wasn’t he dreaming? Were you really reciprocating his feelings?  

“You serious?” Stupid Suguru, is that really what left his mouth? 

You let out a chuckle before nodding and pressing your forehead to his. “Did you want me to say the opposite?” 

“No, I just— god, I’m speechless.” A smile took over his face, showing all the happiness he felt.

“So…” You sang, caressing his cheek with your knuckles “Aren’t you gonna ask me something, jealous boy?

He snorted holding back a laugh, somewhat embarrassed, but still took your hands in his before saying, “Angel, will you please be my girlfriend?”

Suguru couldn’t help the pride he felt in his chest as you two walked back into the party with clasped hands, he ignored the mocking look on his white-haired friend’s face as he noticed your obvious disheveled appearances and mouthed that he owed him one. And of course, he couldn’t help but smile arrogantly when he met Naoya’s stare at the two of you; maybe someone else would be the one to feel jealous from now on— and Geto would have nothing to worry about because now he’s yours and you’re his.

[chanstasy]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ 𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗥 ] ― 𝟏𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐔𝟐 !

ㅤㅤㅤTHE 12 STAGES OF GETTING CORRUPTED BY LEE MINHO.

PAIRING lee minho x female!reader. (ft. hwang hyunjin). CONTENT smut, pwp, dance partners!au, virgin!reader, fuckboy!minho, corruption!au. LENGTH +20k. WARNINGS unprotected sex, mentions of anxiety, consume of alcohol, possesive beahivour, jealousy, angsty scenes. NOTE i am so happy to finally share my first plotted fic with you. thank you for giving me the space to write. here’s the first part !

TAGLIST CURRENTLY CLOSED ― FULL FIC POSTED HERE !

ㅤㅤㅤ© erotichan 2022. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

If there’s one person you never thought you’d have your first time with, it's Lee Minho.

Everything you know about his life has been discovered against your will, and you have to say you know him all too well. You have been training as dancers since you were children and have gone through not only puberty, but also adulthood together. Sounds cute, doesn’t it? Yes, bullshit. Having grown up with the same social circles meant finding out about each of his relationships and adventures that you could never care less about, while he never heard the slightest anecdote coming from you.

Minho knows that today, having the same age and practically the same life as him, you are a total novice and inexperienced chick in absolutely everything. The issue here is that you two are not friends. You were convinced that it would stay that way until the last of your days, however, your relationship took a resounding twist the moment you got into your coach’s van.

The day you parted towards the annual competition city started as normal as any day next to Minho could start. Both of you got into that van with a common destiny, but with interests as different as the seats you choose. While you sat in the back next to the academy junior, Hwang Hyunjin, he sat in the front ― and he didn’t take his eyes off the rearview mirror.

It’s a bit confusing to explain how it all started for Minho. He has had his eyes on you quite since you became teenagers. It was fair at first, you had stopped being a little girl and your physical appearance caught his attention. It got personal as the years went by and you didn’t show any kind of interest in the change he had made. You weren’t impressed by his good looks, by his personality, by his popularity, anything. The fact that you didn’t pay attention to him like the rest turned him so curious, it aroused a curiosity that morphed into a kind of obsession with having your eyes on him.

That being said, the routine developed with a fluid rhythm the first few days. You traveled, settled in the assigned rooms, shared your meals as a team, practiced, and ended up in the current situation. Searching for relaxation.

It took you three days to find out that there was a jacuzzi in the hotel, unlike Minho who made good use of it since arriving. The dark, humid night made it a bit difficult for him to differentiate the figure he found submerged in the water. Once he got close enough he recognized no one other than you. His muscles were atrophied, they got even more tensed from remembering how tight the air had felt to him throughout those endless traveling hours days ago. There you were, so quiet and calm unlike that trip where the only thing he heard over the coach’s old-fashioned choice of music was your laughter after the cheeky flirting attempts coming from the younger guy.

And there you were too, not knowing that only minutes separated you from making the biggest mistake you had ever made.

"Can we share?", Minho asks, leaning over the edge of the hot tub. His voice appears so sudden that it scares you.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him before answering. Nevertheless, he doesn't wait for your approval to dive to the other side. "You're already diving in," you point out the obvious.

"I know, I just didn't want to lose my manners."

You watch askance, he settles in with a small groan of satisfaction. Your arms surround your figure, holding yourself in place. It's not easy to hide how weird you feel with Minho's presence alone. It's not awkward, it's just a weird feeling that you would have had with any other guy.

Minho analyzes your reaction and draws his own conclusions from that strange expression on your face. With a chuckle, he confronts you as brazenly as he usually does. "I don't work out 4 hours a day for you to be disgusted at seeing me shirtless."

His comment makes you aware of how tight your features are, and you relax them. You must have looked so impolite. "Sorry, this is a bit strange."

"Why? Would it be just as weird if Hyunjin joined us?”

Your features contract again. Minho laughs, he got exactly what he expected.

“Just kidding”, he smiles. “I didn't know that Hyunjin and you were so close. I never see you talking in dance classes.”

The accusation turns you as confused as you can be. Still, you don't mind clearing things up. "We are friends. We usually talk outside class.”

He nods. "I see".

The hot water invites him to cup his hands to take a small amount and wet his dry neck. The drops fall along his collarbones, down his chest, and you realize your eyes are following them when they reach his pectorals.

“How about the rest of your friends? I haven't heard from them in a long time”, Minho interrupts your inspection.

Your eyes instantly flip to his. Your eyelashes give away the movement, and that's why you don't hesitate to respond with a little suddenness to hide it. A bit of irony, rather. “What do you mean you haven't heard from my friends? How odd. I thought you were popular with everyone.” 

There's Minho's laugh again. You can vibrate in the same tune if you put your mind to it, and that seems hilarious to him. “Nevermind. I already remembered why I can't have a serious conversation with you."

"Because you don’t try it. You only say stupid things that make me uncomfortable.”

Minho arches one of his eyebrows. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Your question is tricky. Minho stretches his legs out on purpose, moving closer to you without being so obvious. You feel the closeness of his limbs and shrink in place. Your actions are a little bit demonstrative.

"No", you still whisper. "It's just that you and I aren't that close but you act like we were."

"What are you talking about? We've known each other since we were kids."

"That's why. You're still acting just as immature."

The laughter doesn't stop on Minho's part, and you still can't figure out what's so funny. Your body gets smaller and smaller, and he gets more and more comfortable. "Why are you so mean to me?"

"I'm not mean. I just don't like getting involved in these… type of situations… with you”.

He mirrors the confused expression on his own face, but the smile doesn't fade. He’s excited about knowing what your acting is about because it means he'll understand how you see him. With no second thought, he fires off his next accusation of the night. “Why? Are you afraid someone thinks we're close?"

The way his lips pout tickles your insides, in a bad way. Minho can look so arrogant even when he doesn't mean to.

You look around, making it more than clear that his words are true.

“It's nothing personal, Minho. You have a terrible reputation with girls."

“And what? That doesn't mean I'm―”

“A whore?”

“No―”

You giggle at your own insinuation. You don't even know where that came from. "I'm sorry", you drop your head down. "Judging someone by their body counts it's too old fashioned."

Minho won't let you pass it by, clearly. “You just said I was a whore”.

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to know what it felt like answering like you do.”

Thoughts mix inside Minho's head. There is something interfering with his initial purpose of getting your attention that leads him to be brusquely honest. The corner of his mouth lifts, but this time he doesn't laugh. No, he doesn't find what he's about to say funny. It is wonderful to him as if it were a discovery.

“I knew you were kind of a weirdo, but, now I get why you haven’t been laid on yet”.

Your eyelids fail to close smoothly, your blinks are literally jerky with how brazen and shameless what you heard was. "Excuse me?"

The realization that Minho knows this information about you makes you feel insecure all of a sudden, and the way your brows rise gives it away.

“What the even fuck does that mean?”, you add.

Minho points his finger at you to explain himself. “It is obvious that you are the ideal type of many boys, but you have a very loose tongue for them to take advantage of you so easily.”

You really don't understand how the conversation got sidetracked here. Your parted lips show that you have no words. You don't know if you feel scared or disappointed by what you hear.

“Is that what you do with girls? Is that why you're so popular?"

Minho snorts. Your accusation bears some truth and he doesn’t care to deny it.

“Do I look like the type of person who engages in small talk? No girl has ever stopped to meet me."

Worry leaves your body like a cloud of smoke. You can't take seriously that little part of his speech that tries to hold some pity. Your eyes narrow, and you bring your hand to your chest. "Oh, poor thing."

Your teasing makes him laugh, but his attention is drawn to the water running down your chest at your hand gesture. Just as you did previously without him noticing, now he inspects how easy it will be to move on inside the talk. You, of course, advance.

"You fuck all the girls you want but none of them know about your traumas," you insinuate with heavy sarcasm, putting on the most tetchy expression of pity. "It must be really hard being you."

It's inevitable, Minho laughs out loud. Genuinely.

���I didn't remember you being so funny,” he confesses.

"I already told you. It's because you don't know as much about me as you make it seem."

Your response feels victorious, righteous enough to make it your last words. You decide to put an end to your relaxation session, and so you get up with the purpose of leaving. You scan the surroundings until you find the towel you brought for yourself. Minho imitates you, and just as you, he realizes that it’s behind him. He reaches out his arm and takes it.

What a gentleman, you wrongly think.

As soon as you hold out your hand thinking he'll give it to you, Minho moves the towel out of your reach. You stretch towards it by inertia, and you end up inevitably closer to him. Minho looks up to meet your gaze that tries to be hard on him but only makes him smile mischievously.

"Do you really think I don't know you that well?", he asks. 

The question feels out of place given the clear outcoming of the scene that doesn't seem so clear to him. You don't even say a word, you just insist on taking the towel that doesn't reach your hand since Minho has other plans. He is too curious about the discussed topic to let it go.

“How can it not be hard for you?”, he insists. "Aren't you desperate to have something, anything?"

You know exactly what kind of thing he's referring to. You can't understand why the fuck you're talking about your inexperience with Lee Minho.

“Unlike some people, I do know how to control what I have between my legs”, you assure proudly.

You press your hand on the edge next to him so you don't lose your balance, and reach out trying to snatch the towel away from him. Obviously, you fail to do so. Minho throws the towel away and doesn't even give you time to judge his actions. His now-free hand slides up the back of your thigh, giving you the gentlest push to get you to lean into his body.

It all happens too fast, it takes you more than a second to process that his hands have settled you on his lap. Your eyes stay locked on his as if you're afraid to look at anything that's happening and accept that you're, in fact, straddling him.

The air becomes warm, tense. You've never experienced this kind of modesty, it's an embarrassment that leaves you frozen. The fabric of your swimsuit is a bit thinner than usual, and it makes you realize that you are much closer to Minho than you think. It’s so intimate that it becomes ridiculous. It doesn't make sense for you to be in this position, with this guy.

“What are you doing?”, you ask in a whisper.

Minho brings his arms back, he rests his elbows on the edge of the jacuzzi showing that he will not touch you without you approving the situation. Of course, he then answers your question hoping that it leads to that approval.

"I want you to try to control what you have between your legs now."

You could have laughed, but you don't. His request is so obscene, you know he's referring to his cock — you can feel the contact with your crotch so vividly. Your heartbeat accelerates, it makes you nervous to be aware that your cunt is reacting. The heat that runs through your body also runs between the middle of your legs and the pathetically correct angle at which you are sitting.

Minho doesn't want you to misunderstand his seemingly vulgar intentions, so he adds the second part of his proposal. "Or you can slap me for being a whore like you said, and walk away."

But no, strangely, you don't want to leave. You don't want to slap him. Why the hell don't you want to walk away and slap him? You should run away right now!

"Why would I slap you?", is the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

You swallow hard, your throat feels dry. Your eyes drop to Minho's shoulders, and your trembling hands follow the target to rest on top of them. Your fingers are cold from exposing your hands to the wind after pulling them out of the water, but Minho loves the feeling of them on his skin.

You have so many questions, so many doubts, and so many things that you could use as an explanation as to why you are not resisting. It's definitely not because you want to do anything with him, but having to develop such a statement and expect Minho to believe it would be wasting your breath.

You lower your head a little embarrassed, and look at the small bulge that forms in Minho's shorts below you. You just wanted the damn towel and now you're wondering what happens next. You look up, and once you meet his gaze, you decide to be honest about what you think.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, but I don't like you taking advantage of my inexperience."

Minho instantly denies with his head. "I'm not taking advantage of it. I'm giving you opportunities to make it disappear."

Oh, how thoughtful he is.

"That doesn't mean I want to take them, Minho."

He understands, he really does. But he also knows the general reactions enough to know that if nothing was holding you back, you wouldn't be sitting on him right now.

“Do you want to do it right now? The answer can only be yes, or no.”

"Of course I want to, but this feels weird", you admit, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. "Doing it like this, without prior context... it's weird."

"It's not weird, it's the easy way", he contradicts with a click of his tongue. "Do you know why so many people explore their love and sex life in a loose and carefree way?"

No, if you knew the answer you wouldn't still be a virgin at this age. 

You shake your head from side to side, and freeze as Minho reaches up to your face to give it to you. His lips remain just an inch away from yours, and his eyebrows make a quick wiggle that you can't even register when you hear his voice.

"Because they don't get tangled." 

The air compressing your chest is released in the form of a sigh that hits Minho's mouth warmly. His eyes invite you to believe that he is an expert on the subject that you should trust. So, without even thinking about it for a fraction of a second, you press your lips to his to test what he said.

"People just do that?", you question, almost disoriented. Your words are airy. “Without any kind of feeling or explanation?”

Minho brings his hands to your sides, acknowledging the green light. His fingers cushion your hips, subtly nudging them to press against his.

"No, actually there is a feeling”, he clarifies. "It's called lust."

“Lust?”, you repeat the word.

"Do you know what lust is?"

Of course you know, but somehow you're ashamed to admit it, and that's why your body speaks for you. The way your skin gets covered in goosebumps, your breathing becomes even heavier, and the tremor in your hips as you feel the friction in your cunt form the answer to his question.

You swallow again, conditioned by your obvious nerves. "I get an idea of what it is."

Minh smiles. His tongue slides between his lips as he licks them, leaving you plenty of room for you to imagine what he can do with it. The pressure in his hands increases, you move your hips closer to his on purpose.

"Well, let me clear the picture for you", is the last combo of words that gets exchanged between the two.

His moist lips meet yours in a juicily. It doesn't feel wrong as it should, in fact, it awakens within you a curiosity of wanting more. Your mouth follows the movements of his until you manage to find a comfortable path. Your bottom lip gets sucked on briefly, leaving you stunned and elated at the same time. How is it possible that such a small action can make you feel heat between your legs?

Your restlessness encourages Minho to limit your hips, and not only that, but to give them the movement he wants. He drags them back and forth and ignites that sparkling contact between your wet folds. The swimsuit is so suitable for this. The way both bodies achieve friction surprises you, you didn’t know that it was so easy and effective when it comes to getting turned on. You always doubted how someone could get wet so quickly before having sex, and now you understand it; your body reacts to what it has to react to with the right person.

Suddenly, your thoughts get interrupted by his lips’ absence. It works to catch your breath but it shakes you off just as quickly — Minho's mouth reaches your neck with no warning. Your eyes don't open, they press almost as hard as his fingers dig into your waist.

Minho definitely enjoys this more than you, he did want it beforehand.

You feel something strange in the area he’s kissing, something that makes you tilt your head to the opposite side. It's wet, it's ticklish, it's warm. The erotic sound you hear when you feel all that disappear makes you understand that he has released a suction on your skin. You don't know exactly how to react, however, you don't have time to do it. His palms climb up your back and push you gently to draw you to his face again. And your lips meet again.

Damn, your mouths can’t stop meeting between breath and breath.

Not sooner had you registered how hot your blood is pumping through your veins than you registered the entry of Minho's tongue into your mouth. You allow it, and you follow it. It's a new sensation and interestingly not as grotesque as you imagined. It's not as disastrous as it should be. The only disaster is your arousal’s moisture lubricating your insides. You are so aware of his pressing cock under you that you ignore the effect it’s having on your own sex. You're sure Minho isn't physically able to control his erection, but you know he's aware of it as well.

You press down on his shoulders so firmly that you dig your nails into his back, and push yourself away from his mouth. You move those inches away from his face with a sigh that feels as if you've let him suck your soul out. You make eye contact with him, but you quickly avoid it.

"Sorry, I, I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

Your honesty is joined by a short shake of your head. Minho tries to process your reaction, realizing that you're regretting humoring him. He silently surveys you, and he brings his hand up to your chin for you to look back at him.

“You good?”, he asks, hoping you'll pick up where you were.

But you don't. No, you're not as ready for this as you wanted to make it seem.

"Yes, but I don't know what I'm doing”, you repeat.

You sigh a second time, and taking advantage of the hold you still have on his shoulders, you push yourself up. Minho's arms slide from your figure as you rise and fall to his sides as you finally decide to climb out of the hot tub. He just watches you, accepting that you will vanish like fog. His head follows your movements and the way the water trickles down your legs. You grab the towel that conflictingly started it all, and don't even bother to cover more than your nether so you can pull away without feeling like his eyes are piercing through your butt — even though they are.

A frustrated sigh slips past Minho's chapped lips. His elbows stretch out over the edge, making himself comfortable once more. The images of the recent sequence repeat in his head and cause him to let out a small chuckle. He ducks his head at the sound, shaking it from side to side in disbelief at what just happened.

His thumb flies to his bottom lip, and he slides it along it as if he can collect your scent from them. He lets his tongue peek between them, and licks to savor every last trace of you. He lifts his head and looks in the direction you left just to whisper to himself.

"You can come back when you know it, though."

COMING SOON FULL FIC DROPPING ON OCTOBER 15TH ! — DON'T FORGET TO TURN ON THE NOTIFICATIONS AND SEND ME YOUR OPINIONS.

[inkedtae]

ii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

chapter two : research and development ⤑ taehyung never plays around when it comes to business. he just loves playing with you.

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 6.6k

⌁ warnings; mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, ass enthusiast!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of voyeurism, semi-public sex, work sex, dirty talk, jealousy, hand kink, praise kink, daddy kink, corruption kink, a little bit of degradation, teasing, biting, begging, clit rubbing, fingering (with a ring), finger sucking, cum tasting, squirting, lots of sexual tension, 

⌁ le playlist

ও a hundred thanks to cam ( @sunshinejunghoseokie ) for the pretty, pretty banner!! and a giant thank you to eva ( @nottodayjjk ) for betaing this so amazingly and quickly and loving daddy tae as much as i do and to my babe sammy ( @chateautae ) for not only betaing but listening to me gush about this sinful man and his series for hours. 

The Geraldson Group’s Research and Development department is a joke -  at least, the work you do there is. When you were offered the job, you thought it would be more than fetching coffee and making copies. Of course, you were expecting petty errands to be included in your job description, you just didn’t think it would begin and end there. 

You lean against the table and watch coffee drip into the pot as it brews. Lucas stands beside you, arms crossed and face just as blank as yours. The scent overtakes your numb mind, charging it with idle energy. In both your majors, research was the foundation of every project and paper. You spent four years working towards a job like this and all your hard work is squandered over coffee. 

“Oh, look,” Lucas unenthusiastically says, “two drops fell at once.” 

“I’ll alert the media.”

Silence falls again. 

Just one year. All you have to do is stick it out for one year. That is a sufficient amount of “experience” needed for any other company to consider your application. That’s also when your contract ends but you try not to think too much about that, knowing the damned thing robbed you of good pay and benefits. It doesn’t matter as much to you since Mrs. Chu has happily spotted your bills more than once and Taehyung showers you with more than you need. 

Lucas, on the other hand, is struggling. You’ve caught him sneaking coffee and toilet paper too many times to count, even helped him do it. He tells you that he just likes the thrill of thievery but you both know he’s skimping to get by. Most of his money goes towards his bills. Or, at least, you presume so. He’s been alternating between two suits since you met him a month ago during the interview. 

“Branching out,” he told you with a smile when you asked him if he was interested in finance.  Apparently his family owns an empire of newspapers and have been prepping him to take over. Walking out from them meant walking out of their fortune and a trust fund. He swore himself off them, hoping to prove them wrong.

“I mean my uncle got me this interview but after that, I’m done with them all,” he said before his name was called. 

“What are you two doing?” 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts, blinking at the coffee machine to find the pot missing. Jackson, in charge of new hires amongst other things, holds it as he pours himself a cup. He scowls between you and Lucas. 

“Didn’t Marina ask for coffee like ten minutes ago?”

You watch as he pours almost half of the pot into that huge cup of his. “She’s probably gonna have to wait ten more if everyone consumes as much as you do,” you joke only to earn a glare. 

Lucas laughs, taking the pot from Jackson and fixing Marina her usual. Jackson glares at him too. “Seriously, she’s in a terrible mood.”

“I’ll alert the media,” Lucas smiles, looking over his shoulder at you for confirmation on whether he landed the joke as well as you did. 

You give him a little nod as Jackson spirals into another lecture about how we all need to be on our best behaviour. “She said Mr. Geraldson and some new investors are coming in to look at the new project.” 

“Which one?” 

Jackson clenches his fist to keep from smacking Lucas upside the head. That’s… new. He usually doesn’t care for the human resources policy against “gentle violence.”

“Do you work here at all?” He asks, “Have you not sat in enough meetings to know what the fuck I’m talking about?”

He doesn’t care much for the profanity policy either. 

You furrow your brows. When has Lucas been able to sit in on meetings? You’re barely allowed within two feet of the boardroom after preparing it. Marina hates it when you hover, despite doing it herself the moment she gives you a legitimate task, like alphabetically organizing the sources or placing an order for office supplies. Lucas is a great friend and relatively smart but needs so much help navigating Bangtan software, which is transparently easy. 

Besides Lucas’s participation in those meetings, why the hell is Mr. Geraldson coming today? His presence is not expected for another month at the very least. The business magazine project has not even passed its research stage. The projections for budgeting alone are still a terrible work in progress that the accounting department has yet to process.

“The magazine pitch is not due for another month,” you say, hoping to take some of the heat off Lucas. “Why-”

“Investors are eager to take a look at our operations, apparently. Geraldson got this new investor too and no one knows who it is,” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee. “I think Marina does though. The moment she got off the phone with Leslie, she shouted at Ethan to take over supervising the research and rushed - oh, there she is!”

Marina hurries between desks, five inch heels click-clacking her urgency. They’re red. She has red lips too. She never wears red. Her hair is in huge curls, down and flowing over her tight white dress. Pearls sit pretty on her collarbone. It looks perfect for a business party, one of which is not happening right now. 

You raise a brow before exchanging a look with the guys. She rushed home to change. 

“Alright,” Lucas says with an eager smile. “Place your bets.”

“That’s a bit mean,” you buffer, though a smile plays on your lips too. 

Jackson stares at her for a moment before saying, “Twenty dollars on a boyfriend.”

“Double on Geraldson.”

You and Jackson share a confused look. “Lucas, Geraldson is married,” you chuckle. 

He shrugs, taking a sip from the coffee originally intended for Marina. 

“Bo-peep!” She shouts at you. 

God, you hate that fucking name. On your first day, you dressed in all white, a little ribbon holding your hair up in a ponytail. Marina drew everyone’s attention to you, asking you if that’s what you were after then congratulating you on it. You apologized, for really no good reason, but that act spurred on the nickname. You only wear black now. Lesson learned and has yet to be lived down. 

You stand straighter as she marches into the kitchen. “Ten copies of this,” she smacks a binder clipped rundown of the project on the table. “Ten coffees and don’t forget water for the table this time.” She turns to leave before you can utter a word.

Jackson and Lucas toss you a pointed look. You rethink your statement on the morality of betting on reasons why she suddenly dressed up. “All or nothing on an ex.”

You pick up the stack of papers as they share a satisfied smile, Lucas downing Marina’s coffee. He promises to make her another and that he’ll help you out with the coffees since he’s already there. You remind him not to forget the water since that was his task last time. Jackson is in the middle of expressing how stupid Lucas is for drinking the coffee in the first place since Marina is already on edge when Ethan rushes in. 

“Geraldson is here,” he announces in a panic. “You’ll never believe who’s with him!”

All three of you stand straighter as you wait for the answer. Through a disbelieved sigh, he exclaims, “Kim Taehyung!”

You must have misheard him. Maybe Ethan misheard it himself. All morning you’ve been texting Taehyung. He posted two doormen at your lobby, ones armed with more than just kind remarks to those who enter and exit. You’ve been arguing with him about whether or not you live in a safe enough neighbourhood all the way to work and then he asked you what you had planned for the day. He had ample time to tell you he was coming. It probably wouldn’t have changed much, but at least you would have been more willing to put up with Marina and her attitude.

Questions erupt from your co-workers and you realize, following them into the office, that the same excitement Ethan carries buzzes over everyone else. They rush to get into their places and look busy as Mr. Geraldson enters. Three men are behind him, the last being Taehyung. 

He looks uninterested, unchanged as he scans the office. Hands in his pockets and hair falling over his eyes, repressed memories of being pressed up against a balcony railing return to you. The intensity of his stare and warm chest against yours has been the subject of your late night thoughts every night before bed. You toss and turn the memory of his fingers away, trying desperately to ignore the ache between your thighs. 

Taehyung has yet to mention it. Honestly, if you didn’t cum as hard as you did, you would have thought that it was all a dream with the way he speaks to you now. All his messages are bare of any indication that he touched you. Sometimes you stare at the chat and wonder if you should just ask him about it but you can’t shake the feeling that he might be avoiding the subject for a reason. What if it was a pity play? What if he was just trying to make you feel better about leaving you to fend for yourself with his ex? Maybe he didn’t enjoy it as much as you thought he did. You were technically the only one being stimulated and his dick was only half hard when pressed against you. 

“There he is,” Lucas whispers.

You blink back to reality and refocus your attention on Taehyu- the investors. 

“Which one?” Jackson asks, then rolls his eyes when Lucas shrugs. “Why did you say that then?”

“He’s there, isn’t he? I just don’t know which one.”

“The last one,” you inject, hoping to squash their bickering before it reaches Mr. Geraldson. “The one with the green floral coat.”

Your comment attracts more than Jackson and Lucas’s attention. Half the office turns to you, drawing Taehyung’s eyes as well. He smirks when he sees you. His brows bounce as that smirk wides into a smile. 

Your face grows hot. You try as hard as you can to suppress the giddiness in your smile, but you’d be lying if you said you’re not happy to see him - even if he forgot to mention it. 

“You know him?” Lucas asks, eyes round and tentative. 

Looking back to the crowd of eyes you’ve drawn, you swallow thickly. “He’s a friend.”

Jackson clears his throat. He can’t meet your eyes anymore. In fact, no one can. “Back to work,” he mutters before darting to his desk. The crowd disperses, Lucas returning to the kitchen without a word. What the hell happened to all that excitement?

In searching for a face to ask what exactly you’ve said or done to provoke such a reaction, you catch Marina’s eye. Jaw tight, she glares. Her hands are shaking. It takes Mr. Geraldson’s greeting to pull her silent wrath away from you. 

The copy room is your only refuge. It’s warm from the heat of the copies and relatively quiet if you don’t include the loud whirring of the machine. There aren’t any prying eyes or nervous shuffling there either. Apparently knowing Taehyung here is not as widely impressive as knowing him at the gallery. People were pathetically nice to you then in hopes of getting into Taehyung’s good graces. It seems like, here, they don’t want to associate with you because of it. The entire situation is so incredibly confusing because you didn’t think anyone here cared about associations. They are nice to you even while knowing Marina hates your guts. So why is it such a big deal that Taehyung doesn’t hate you. Should you have lied about your friendship?

You’ve finally set the machine in motion when the door opens. 

“Hey, Angel.” Taehyung shuts the door behind him. His coat is missing, fitted black button up on display instead. He smiles as he approaches, hands on your waist to pull you into a hug. Sage and tea leaves soothe your anxious heart. You borrow your nose into his neck and he holds you a little tighter. “Rough day?” 

The depth of his voice vibrates against your chest. His hands cup your cheeks when you finally pull away. It takes his thumb brushing under your eye for you to register that you’re crying. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers, slightly crouching to meet your downcast gaze. “What’s going on? What happened?” 

The softness of his voice only spurs more tears. You part your lips to apologize only for a little sob to escape instead. Fuck, how pathetic could you be. So some of your co-workers don’t like you. What the fuck is the crime in that? Everyone is entitled to their opinion and not everyone has to like you. You know this and know it well. Why does it make you cry harder then? 

Hands on his chest, you clutch onto his shirt. What are you supposed to tell him now? You can’t say they don’t like you and you can’t tell him why. Caught in this terrible moment of tears, you remain pathetically idle. 

“(Y/N), I’m not kidding. Tell me what happened right now or I’ll go out there and lose my shit on everyone,” he says in that deep, business voice. Fuck, he really is serious. 

You draw in a shaky breath before muttering, “Just a b-ba-ad da-ay.”

He huffs through this nose, annoyed when he hears your shattered voice. Wiping your tears, he tilts your head up at him and says, “That’s hardly an answer to my question.” 

The copy machine stops whirling now that it has finished all the copies. The sniffling silence between you is undeniable now. You turn to get the copies for the machine only for Taehyung to hold you in place. He presses himself flush against you and towers. It’s cruel of him to use one of your weaknesses against you like this, especially when he knows just how much you adore it when he stands over you like this. Even if you won’t admit it. 

“Tell me the truth.”

“That is-”

“Is it Marina?”

In the month you’ve worked here, you never mentioned Marina to him. In fact, you’ve never mentioned the trials of working here to him at all, knowing he would try to dip his hand into your work life and manipulate it so that it’s easier to endure. And though you appreciate the thought behind the gesture, you rather deal with your work on your own. It already pains your pride enough that he was the connection you needed to finally land a job. 

So, how the hell does he know of Marina, of all the shit she has put you through? 

You swallow down the lump in your throat and attempt to soothe your breathing enough to coherently ask, “She called me Bo-peep, didn’t she?”

He furrows his brows. “She calls you Bo-peep?” 

Mirroring his expression, you retaliate with, “How did you know she hates me?”

Taehyung bites his lip. He shifts his weight and wipes the last of your tears, drying his hands on his expensive slacks before shoving them in his pocket. “We used to…” he trails off, looking for the right term. 

“Date?”

He chuckles, “I don’t date, Angel.”

It’s becoming clearer. All the petty coffee runs and useless tasks, all the favoring of Lucas over you and micromanaging all seems to make sense now. She’s another one of Taehyung’s fuck buddies and thinks you’re the next. 

You let out a dry chuckle with a shake of your head. “Should’ve known.”

“I didn’t know you worked in this department,” he rushes to explain. “You don’t really like to talk about work.”

“I wonder why.”

He doesn’t care for your sarcasm, towering over you again. You want this not to turn you on, but your panties dampen all the same. He wipes a stray tear and tilts his head. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s teasing the impression of a kiss. “I can take care of it.”

You shake your head, pressing your thighs together. “I can handle it myself. She’s just annoyed with Geraldson for moving up the meeting and the fact that you made it so obvious we know each other.”

“Should I have ignored you?”

“No!”

The urgency in your voice surprises you too. Yes, everyone acting differently around you sucks. But, it would have broken your heart if Taehyung pretended you didn’t exist, especially when he already pretended he didn’t make you call him daddy while playing with you. You'd rather be in here with him than without. 

And he knows this well, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “I’ll make a note; you like attention.” 

You playfully glare. “How have you kept me this long if you’re only just realizing this?”

One of his hands trails down the curve of your ass before gently squeezing. Your hiccuped breaths somewhat subside as you arch your back, ass pushing into his hand. “I’ve found that my fingers seem to do the trick,” he whispers with his lips hovering over yours. 

You shiver and your hips act on their own, rolling into his. It only happened once, but you tell yourself that it’s all muscle memory to salvage your pride. His growing bulge offers a bit of reassurance. “There’s a boardroom of people waiting for you.”

“A few more minutes won’t kill them.” He squeezes your ass again, harder this time. You gasp into his mouth. He groans, smirking. “I can’t have you walking out there, squirming and whining-”

“I don’t whine,” you insist through something similar to a whine. 

Taehyung chuckles. You fight a smile, shifting your weight. “That’s right, Angel. You beg.” 

“I’m not begging you to touch me, Tae. I was barely able to walk last time.” That was supposed to sound angry but came out in a pout and the memory makes you wetter. He had to hold onto you for most of the night. You remember smelling like him by the time the event was over. 

He laughs. With the menial distance between your lips, you’re practically exchanging breaths and every ripple that leaves his mouth makes you smile. “I barely did a thing.”

“Shut up,” you chuckle, growing hot all over. “It was my first time.”

Nudging your nose with his, he lets out a low, throaty groan. “I remember,” he whispers. 

“You do?”

He nods as his other hand runs down your thigh and hooks it around his waist. He leans you against the copy machine and mutters, “I think it went something like this, no?”

The moan that escapes you taints your face with shame. He really hasn’t done much, but you’ve been thinking about this for over a month. You thought that you’d have to wait until the next event to discuss this with him… and maybe ask for it again. Besides, you’re at work. You can’t let him play with you at work. It’s wrong. Being with him like this is wrong. He said it himself; he doesn’t date. What do you think you’re gaining from this interaction? 

Still, you tighten your arms around his neck. You want him closer when he touches you this time. You don’t want to give him another chance to pretend this didn’t happen. Holding his gaze, you nod and whisper, “Something like that.”

Taehyung takes this as the confirmation he needs to cup your pussy through your damp panties. It’s pathetic how easily you shatter whatever controlled, collected persona you thought you carried. He smiles at the high pitched, breathy gasp that leaves you, almost amused with the sight himself. 

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t a whine.”

“It wasn’t.”

The tone of your voice earned you a sharp smack to your pussy and a harsher grip of your ass. This time you do whine, the sound cinching in your throat when you remember you’re at work and can be heard at any moment. 

Taehyung rubs the blissfully stinging area, groping all too roughly at your ass for you to think you’re in the clear just yet. “Now, is that the way you should be talking to Daddy?” he questions. 

You can’t help a glare. He avoids the topic of touching you for all too long, only to tease you when he decides to touch you again. Then, he has the audacity to tell you how to speak to him, to make you refer to him with that stupid title that you both know is such a fucking turn on and yet you can’t help but succumb to it. “We shouldn’t even be doing this,” you mumble through a moan, hip rolling against his hand. “I work here.”

Maybe it’s the desperate tone of your voice or the way your body is reacting to his tender touch, but Taehyung is thoroughly amused. He bites his lip to keep from laughing as one of his fingers slips around the hem of your panties. When your eyes twitch at the press of his finger to your clit, he smiles and rubs his nose with yours. “You’re so adorable,” he belittles then pecks your nose. 

He needs to stop teasing. The month without his presence is teasing enough. And that fucking tone he takes with you every time you just happen to react like a whore to his touch. You don’t think it’s very fair that you’re always the one treated like his slut when he shamelessly gropes and rubs you like you belong to him… which, upon further thought, doesn’t seem like a completely terrible idea. 

With two fingers, he draws slow but small circles around your clit, muttering about how fucking wet you were before he even started. “I didn’t think you could get any wetter,” he whispers, all while holding your gaze. He tsks every time your eyes flutter shut from the sensation too, reminding you that if you want to cum, “You have to keep your eyes on me.” 

God, it just all feels like a dream. It feels like all the times you’ve tried to shake thoughts of him out of your head late at night have conspired against you to create such a cruel dream. But then you get a strong whiff of his cologne, his natural scent of sage not too far behind. Smells don’t usually travel into dreams, do they? 

He pinches your clit, jolting your hips up into his. He’s unbelievably hard and you refuse to admit that that’s the reason for your all too loud moan. Taehyung clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring as he pinches harder. “Keep it down,” he hisses, “And if you want to cum at all you’ll keep your eyes on me.”

All you meant to do was nod. The fatal look in his eyes however triggered an instinctual reaction to kiss his palm. It disarms him enough to shatter the anger that once took over his features. His treatment of your clit is gentler too. Attentive and soft, he rubs shallow, fast circles over it. You didn’t think such a delicate gesture would make your legs shake so much. But, here you are, trembling against him, moaning into his hand and trying so fucking hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Do you want more?”

You raise a brow, circling your hips to the pace of his fingers. More of him or his fingers?

His fingers fall to your entrance, gently circling it as his thumb takes over rubbing your clit. Though you are still debating the offer, you find that your body has already made the decision for you, thrusting up into him within seconds. It makes him smile all too smugly for your liking. Yet, you only seem to get wetter. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, removing his hand from your mouth. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve always wondered but never had the courage to ask. 

He shakes his head. “Not if you’re wet enough,” he smirks. “I think you can take it if you want it.”

Face flushed, you try not to feel too embarrassed as you nod. Sure, you may have done this before, but it was only just once. Just once and never again. Over and over, you’d mulled about this and him and wonder if possibly it would have been different if he did put his fingers in you. Would you have been more inclined to bring it up if he did? It also felt so good without, that the thought of being with his fingers so intimately this time makes you clench. 

He’s just hovering outside of your hole, but he can feel it all the same. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he lets his eyes fall shut and nuzzle his nose against your face. A little groan escapes him at the gentle scratches you offer on the nape of his neck. Playing with his hair is always so fun when he’s close like this and making you his. 

“You want it?”

“Yes.”

“Beg.”

You fucking knew that it was too easy. Your pride screams at you to refuse him the pleasure of being right, but all those tortured nights thinking about this exact moment are stacking up against you. It would be stupid to act out now. So why do you?

“You’re unbelievable.” You try and fail not to sound so pitiful. 

Taehyung hums a throaty groan. “You’re too wet to play games, Angel. You know that if you just ask me nicely, you can have anything you want in the world. ”

His thumb moves faster, pressing down on your clit a bit harder than you’re mentally prepared for. You refuse to let that distract you though. Summoning your most innocent voice, you ask, “Really? Anything, Daddy?”

Cock throbbing against your thigh, his teeth graze your cheek for a bite. You gasp, unsure if your surprise is due to his mouth or the impression of his huge length. “Anything,” he reaffirms in a rasp. 

“Even a pony?” 

Your joke has gone too far. Or, perhaps he’s just had enough of your attitude. A harsh slap meets your pussy either way and those soothing rubs he usually offers after do not follow. It seems you’ve pissed him off a little too much. 

With a bite of your lip, you whimper, worried that you might not cum at all. 

“If you know you’re this fucking horny,” he harshly cups your pussy, your back slamming back against the copy machine. “Why the fuck do you mess around? Just ask.”

You huff, tired of his antics as he is of yours. “You want me to beg, not ask.”

“When has that ever stopped you? I thought you were my good girl.” 

His lips are at the base of your neck now, licking and sucking at your skin. You tremble. And though you wish it was because of the way he bites down on your skin, you know that it really has to do with those three words: my good girl. 

He doesn’t date. Still, you are his. You cannot imagine anything more pathetic… that is until you begin to beg. 

Voice quivering and breathy, you whisper, “Please, Daddy? Can you pretty please finger me?” 

“Pretty please?” he teases against your skin. You can feel him smiling, enjoying your submissive state all too much. 

You know you should feel some sort of resentment towards him for the things he makes you say when he knows you want him. Yet, you can’t help this burst of empowerment. It’s to your words that he finds his motivation and it is through your words that he acts on it. Are you his or is he yours?

“Are you ready, Angel?” he whispers. When you nod, he adds, “Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

The moment you draw in a breath, his middle finger pushes into you. He moves slow and steady and yet you can’t help the squeal that escapes you. The burn of the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever experienced. You always thought it would be like a lump in your throat, straining against the walls of your larynx with each swallow. This feels more like sticking something between the fold of your elbow, but wetter and so much more pleasurable. 

And Taehyung stays true to his word, every gesture being soft and tender. He studies your face rather obsessively too, eyes bouncing over all of your features for any signs of discomfort. All you can really do is peer up at him like you’re begging him all over again but you just don’t know for what. You like the slow pace he’s set, it almost does feel like something you can- 

“Holy fu-uck!”

Taehyung clamps his hand over your mouth again. He reached as far as he could before adding an extra finger. That alone makes your eyes roll back, but it is the cool tip of something around one of his fingers that made you moan out the way you did. He holds them steady in you as he glares. “Honestly, Angel, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’d want everyone to know I was in here with you,” he hisses as he curls his fingers. 

Your head falls back with another whiney moan at the sensation. Taehyung misinterprets it though. “Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like someone to just walk in here and watch me finger fuck the lights out of you?”

Shame should riddle you with senses enough to stop all this now and return to your tasks. Only you’ve lost your senses the moment he held you and your shame has disappeared the moment he pinned you his good girl. It’s the only reason you clench around his fingers, you tell yourself. It has to be the only reason the idea of being walked in on and watched makes you so fucking needy, your hips rock forward into his hand and back again. Because otherwise that would be insane, right? It would be insane that he would even continue to fuck you knowing someone was watching. 

Taehyung takes the tightening of your walls as a good sign, smirking down at you as he cradles your waist. His fingers jolt into action. Curled just right, they bounce in you, hitting a sensitive spot you probably wouldn’t have been able to find yourself. That metal tip you now presume must be a ring, scratches at your walls so deliciously, it drops your mouth open and tongue out. Taehyung must feel it too, removing his hands from your mouth to see it for himself. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he groans before sticking his tongue out to lick yours.

Your pussy quivers, much to his delight, and eyes widen at the gesture. He wants you to fall apart. He must or else he wouldn’t have been so blunt as to play with your tongue so freely. Saliva drips down both your chins as your tongues swirl around each other, frantically and, dare you even think, passionately. 

You don’t think you can take anymore as you clutch onto his shoulders, fisting his shirt in your hands. But then he starts to rub your clit with his thumb all while picking up his pace. Your head almost knocks into his as your knees buckle.

Taehyung is quick to keep you from falling, holding you tight against him with the grip around your waist. “You have no idea how cute you get when you’re about to cum,” he chuckles, speaking so casually you would think his fingers weren’t in you if it hadn’t been for that familiar twisting knot that makes you clench so tight as it gets harder and harder to ignore. “Your right eye always twitches- oh, just like that.” 

Biting your lip, you prepare yourself to swallow your moans, knowing it’s going to be a struggle to remain below a whisper once you cum. Taehyung sees right through your plans, kicking the copy machine behind you. It whirls into motion, sounding louder than the wet squishes of his fingers moving inside you. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to be quiet, Angel,” he whispers in your ear so you can hear him over the machine. “You’re doing so good for me. Cute, tight little pussy taking my fingers so well. You like it, right? You like how my fingers feel inside you, Angel?”

“Yes, yes! I lo-ove it, Daddy! S-so mu-uch!” 

Okay, maybe now you are whining. But, you’re about to cum so it hardly seems fair that he can hold this against you later. It doesn’t even really matter now with the way his fingers are soaking his pants. You can feel the wet patch from your arousal dampen the spot of his black slacks against your leg. 

“Angel,” he starts, wanting to sneak a glance down between your legs, but you're holding on too tight. 

Your vision begins to blur, mouth falling open and even with the machine whirring loudly behind you, Taehyung has to press you against it so that he can clamp your mouth shut. Blood is rushing to your head, clogging your ears enough that you can breathe or hear your own heart beat, let alone Taehyung’s now distant voice. Your body quakes all over, throwing your head back only to have Taehyung pull it right up by the grip over your mouth.

“Look at me!”

The rough tone of his voice, the lust-blown look in his eyes and the harsh pump of his fingers send a rush of cum all over his hand. Your legs give out and you have to resort to hugging Taehyung for dear life to keep from falling. He rests his forehead against yours, not really seeming to mind it all too much. You begin to wonder for a split second why he hasn’t let go of your mouth and just kissed you instead. 

A burst of something more liquid than just your cum leaks out of you and all over Taehyung’s pants. He gasps, pulling away only a fraction to watch as it happens again. 

“Shit, I knew it,” he smirks. 

You, on the other hand, are not so composed. Your senses have only just come back to you, having somewhat regained your hearing enough to hear how the machine masks your loud heaving for air but not Taehyung’s laughter. You really, for the love of God, hope you did not just do what you think you did all over his pants. 

Taehyung takes his fingers out as a bit more drips out of you this time. He rubs every last drop out, meeting your horrified gaze with a cocky smirk. “It’s okay, Angel. They’re just pants.”

“I ruined them,” you gasp, wanting so badly to act as guilty as you felt. Your hips still circle around his hand, almost needy for more even though it’s almost starting to hurt. If you try to move away from his hand now though, will he ever put it back? Are you going to have to wait another month before he does?

“I don’t care,” he shrugs. 

“You have a meet-”

“I’m more impressed with how easily you just squirted.”

Is that what that was? You let out a sigh of relief between pants. Taehyung gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing the entirety of your pussy one last time before sucking on his fingers. You hope that is a habit he always has after playing with you because holy fuck, is that not the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. Nothing beats the sight of an amused Taehyung with his hair over those intense mismatched eyes and cum coated fingers in his mouth. 

“Yeah?” you ask, somewhat dazed. 

He nods, putting his finger in your mouth now. There’s barely any cum left but just tasting his spit is comfort enough. When he removes them, he presses his forehead against yours with a little smile. 

It feels like you’ve been standing for hours in this comfortable silence with your leg still wrapped around him, hands on his shoulders and his on your ass, just gazing at one another. His pants are so wet against your leg, you wonder how the hell he’s going to explain this to the boardroom. 

Shit, the meeting!

Unhooking your leg from around his waist, you move out of his hold only for Taehyung to tighten his grip. You give him a playfully pointed glare to which he only smirks, “Not yet, Angel.”

“I have to get these documents set for the meeting. Lucas will probably be wondering where I am too,” you explain, trying so hard not to mentally make a huge deal at the fact that he would rather hold you here like this instead. 

His grip on your ass tightens. You gasp in his mouth as he asks, “Lucas?”

“He’s the other intern.” When he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you inquisitively, you add, “We help each other out sometimes to keep Marina off our backs.” 

His face falls blank, like it was when he first entered the building. In seconds, you’re released from his hold and he rolls your black skirt back down from where it was bunched at your waist for you. When you part your lips to thank him, he reaches behind you and grabs the stacked documents for you to take. 

“Don’t want to keep Lucas waiting,” he mutters when you simply stare up at him. 

Is it because it’s your second time with him? You’re not even really with him, but is he acting cold because it’s not your first time? He was so much more attentive before, right? You didn’t just make that part up in your head? He held and kissed your neck and cheeks and nose. What about your forehead? He kissed your forehead so much, especially when you finished. Where are all those forehead kisses now? 

A little sigh escapes you as you take the documents. “Sorry again about your pants,” you say before walking around him. Your legs are a bit shaky but it’s nothing a few more steps can’t manage. 

When you reach for the door handle, you feel his arms sneak around your waist. Your back meets the warmth of his chest. His lips hover over the edge of your ear as he whispers, “You did so well for me today. Sure, you came without asking,” he teases with a chuckle and little tickle of your stomach. You giggle with him, slightly squirming in his hold. “But all the squirting made up for it.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that next time,” you joke before realizing the implication of your words. You just alluded to a next time that might never come. 

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind or maybe just doesn’t register your words. He presses a long kiss to your temple then whispers, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything about Marina?”

Something about hearing her name from his lips makes you a little queasy. You fight through the feeling, shaking your head. “I can handle it on my own.” You try to sound as reassuring as you can but you know he doesn’t believe you. Still, he lets you go. 

After setting up the boardroom for the meeting, you sit at your desk, separating paper clips from  gold to silver, and watch as Lucas sits in the corner by Jackson. He takes diligent notes, once promising to share them with you but now might have different plans. Marina sits by Taehyung. His gaze is either fixated on his papers or you; never her. 

When the meeting is over, you hear Lucas complain to Jackson in the kitchen about the weird smell coming from Taehyung. 

“It’s like really expensive cologne mixed with something else.”

“Did you notice his pants were wet?” When Lucas raises his brows, Jackson adds, “And his shirt was all wrinkled too.”

A smile plays on your lips. 

tags : @marcoazz2 @complexmolecule @whats-good-ross @mawwnsterr @neverthefirstchoice @taeisbae13​ @taeluvrr 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[hongcherry]

oh holy lights | kth (m)

“Taehyung has been struggling to find inspiration for his photography assignment, but you help him spark his creativity with the simple act of hanging up Christmas lights.”

🎄 Pairing: boyfriend!Taehyung x girlfriend!Reader(f)

🎄 Rating/Genres: M(18+); Smut, pwp, light fluff, established relationship, college au

🎄 Word Count: 4.9k

🎄 Warnings: Bondage, (adult) pornography, light breast play, hickies/markings, dirty talk, sir kink, oral (m receiving), one gag, fingering, unprotected sex (oc on pill; stay safe), creampie

🎄 Project: Part of the 12 Days of BTS event

Prompt: Kinkmas

🎄 Beta: My friend, Panda, is back again with those quick beta edits! Thank you so much for helping me even though you were sleepy! You’re always there for me and I’m very grateful for that. <3 And thank you for the amazing title teheheheh

🎄 Author’s Note: Ta-da! That’s it for the 12 Days of BTS event! At least, the writing portion anyway hehe. I’ll be reviewing two fics on my reading blog to fully complete the project. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my 12DOB fics. They were quick turnarounds since I didn’t have as much time as I anticipated to write (darn classes), but I hope they were fun to read! I've had this idea for a fic for a long time, but I never wrote it. I'm glad I was able to. I hope you all enjoy it.

Happy holidays to everyone and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! I hope you all have a great day. Stay safe! ^-^

12 Days of BTS masterpost | main masterlist

“This doesn’t look right,” Taehyung huffed, leaning back into his chair as he stared at the photos scattered across his screen. He titled his head as if the new angle would give him a eureka moment. It did not.

“I’m sure they look fine!” you encouraged from the other room. You were standing on a chair as you strung lights along the curtain railing.

Taehyung had been scrolling through the photos he took a few hours ago outside. He had decided to take a winter course in advanced photography because the selected course would only be offered during this time. He had been wanting to take it for a while, but it was never available.

“You’re not even looking at them,” he argued and brought his hands to his face. He rubbed them against his temples. The stress was biting at his bones and making him frustrated. This was his third time going out and taking photos this week; but for some reason, everything he captured didn’t resonate with him. It should’ve been easy. The theme for this assignment was the holidays. Everything around him screamed the holidays, yet he wasn’t proud of anything he photographed.

“I don’t need to,” you replied. You cautiously went on your tip-toes on the chair, hoping you didn’t lose your balance. You were doing good so far. “Your work is always amazing, babe.”

“You have to say that. You’re dating me,” Taehyung sighed, not believing your compliment. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. The assignment was due in four days and he had nothing to show. Plus, he still had to edit them, which consumed extra hours of his life.

“Do not! I’d tell you if I thought they were shit.” You paused in reaching out to attach the strand to the pole as you processed what you just said Quickly, you added, “Nicely, of course.”

Taehyung didn’t reply, but it didn’t bother you. You figured he was just thinking of what to do and not ignoring you.

You smiled triumphantly when you successfully fasted part of the light strand. You were almost done with lining the curtain railing, however, you came across an obstacle. This side of the curtain was out of your reach and there was no room to move your chair closer. You could stand on the couch since it was in front of the curtain, though the side table was in the way still. Moving the table would give your chair room, but frankly, you were too lazy to deal with that. Looks like it was time to phone a (boy)friend.

“Babe?” you called out. Since he has yet to put in his fair share of decorating, you felt now was his time to do so anyway.

“Yeah?” You heard him reply faintly. His tone was dull and your heart crumbled from how much he was struggling.

Taehyung wasn’t a perfectionist. He wanted his work to be top-notch, but he was never obsessed with making every little detail flawless. He saw the flaws as artistic, always enjoying the abstract parts of his work. Regardless of this, he still wanted to be proud of what he produced. He never wanted to showcase art that he wasn’t 110% happy with. You wished you could help him more. Earlier this week, you had suggested places that had pretty holiday decorations, which he went to, but he never came back satisfied.

“Can you come help me for a second? I need your long arms,” you answered and waited on the chair for his arrival.

After some shuffling, he appeared around the corner. Your lips instantly quirked upward at the sight of his fluffy hair.

Taehyung peered up at you and noticed you were standing on a chair with the end of a light strand in your palms. Even if he was under pressure from his class, he still smiled at how adorable you looked. You had on the tan, fuzzy hoodie he had bought you a few months ago paired with black spandex shorts. The hoodie had small ears on the hood—mimicking one of his favorite animals.

“Can you attach this part of the strand to the railing? I can’t reach it,” you asked, gesturing to the part of the pole you were talking about. Taehyung nodded and climbed onto the couch. He placed one foot on the couch’s armrest and took the lights from you. You climbed from the chair to spot him; your hand hovering near his waist in case he fell.

“More to the left please,” you instructed.

“Here?” he questioned, holding the strand against the railing.

“Perfect!” you exclaimed with a grin before he secured it in place.

“It looks great!” you added once he was done. He climbed off the couch and walked to the light switch, turning off the lights while you hastily grabbed the end of the strand to plug it in. Taehyung took a couple of steps back to view your work in all its glory.

You stood under the lights as you craned your neck to see them. Taehyung tilted his head as he trailed his eyes over your figure. It was lit by the lights above you, shining red and green hues over your body. Taehyung watched as you adjusted a few bulbs after climbing on the chair again.

“Does it look good from there?” you asked your boyfriend and peered over your shoulder at him.

In reality, Taehyung had not been analyzing your decorations. He was too enthralled with how your body was illuminated by the lights above. Something about the way you were slightly visible despite the dark room seemed to have sparked something in his mind.

He hurried to retrieve his camera, turning it on and adjusting the settings as he trekked back to the living room. You had moved the chair back to the dining room and were sitting on the couch admiring the lights when he returned.

“Do me a favor, bear?” Taehyung asked softly, calling you by the nickname he had given to you after gifting you the tan hoodie you were wearing.

“What is it?” you wondered as you turned your attention to him. You noticed the camera and gave him a puzzling look.

“Can you stand in front of the curtains again?”

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled and stood in front of them, not needing an explanation as to why since you were used to his sudden sparks of ideas by now.

Taehyung had always enjoyed taking photos of you and you never minded. In fact, if it weren’t for a friend who couldn’t make it to one of his shoots, you wouldn’t have ever met him. Your friend had called you the night before. They had come down with a cold and wouldn’t be able to help Taehyung with his photoshoot for an assignment. You had nothing to do that Saturday, so you took their place. You were indifferent about being in front of the camera—didn’t have a preference whether you were the model or assisting behind the scenes.

Despite being nervous meeting Taehyung for the first time at his photo shoot, he had made you feel comfortable. It was hard not to smile when you heard his deep laugh. It was contagious—just like his boxy smile he flashed you frequently.

Taehyung had offered you multiple chances to help with his assignments after that. It was usually in front of the camera, but he had also asked for advice when he was editing too. His hard work and bubbly personality were difficult to resist. Not to mention, he was definitely the most handsome man you have ever encountered before.

“Move a little forward please,” he instructed. He played with the settings again before bringing the camera to his eye. You smiled when he shut one eye to see better. You struck a silly pose, flashing him a charming smile and a peace sign.

He took a photo then checked how it turned out on the camera’s screen. After adjusting the settings once more, he took another one.

“Do we have any more strands of lights?” Taehyung asked and glanced around the room. There was a big storage box to his right and he went over to rummage through it.

“We have plenty left,” you laughed sheepishly, recalling how you may have accidentally gone on a shopping spree the first week of December.

Taehyung unboxed one of the packages of the multi-colored strands. He silently twisted off the wires binding them together, plugged them in, then handed them to you. You glanced down at the lights in your hand and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Pose with them” he chuckled, finding your expression endearing. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started playing music through the speaker in the room. After tossing his phone aside, he lifted his camera to his eye again.

You unraveled the lights and pulled the strand taut between your hands. You angled your arms in a diagonal and peered at the camera—waiting for the camera’s click before adjusting your position.

A couple of minutes had passed with you shifting the strand of lights in various arrangements. Taehyung had started humming to the music as he moved around the room to get multiple views. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling about the photos. It was difficult to see his facial expressions since he didn’t have lights near him.

“How do they look?” you questioned when Taehyung took a break to analyze the photos. You both sat on the couch—the strand of lights abandoned on the floor. You rested your head against his shoulder, watching as he scrolled through the images.

“Better than my other ones,” he murmured.

“You think you can use any of them for your assignment?” You placed a hand on his back, giving it a soothing rub as you tried to ease his stress.

“Maybe,” he said.

“If you still need more shots, I can help you,” you reassured and gave him a smile. Taehyung glanced at you, soft lips dipped in a small frown.

“You’ll get the shot you’re looking for,” you encouraged. “It’ll come to you.”

You leaned forward to press a tender kiss to his lips. When you pulled away and still spotted the frown, you kissed him again.

“Take a break. Maybe it’ll help,” you suggested and nudged his arms down. He hesitated for a moment, glancing between his camera and you.

“Put it down, Tae,” you ordered calmly.

He sighed but complied, setting the camera on the side table and turning back to you. Smiling, you cupped his face with a hand and tangled your other in his long locks.

“You know I’m always here for you, right?” you questioned, rubbing your thumb against his cheek sweetly.

Taehyung nodded; his eyes shifting down to your mouth. His tongue darted out to lick along his bottom lip as he waited for your reply.

“Good,” you said and pecked his lips lightly. “I love you,” you added, lips brushing against his.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled before closing the distance.

The music playing in the room was a slow beat, making the moment more intimate as your lips moved against his to the rhythm of the music. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled your body on his. Your hands fell from his face as you moved them to rest against his chest. Taehyung broke the kiss and flipped you so your back was against the couch and he was between your legs.

His hands slipped beneath your fluffy hoodie to rest on your bare skin. His cold hands had your body jolting in his grasp and a small squeal to come out of you, meriting a deep chuckle from your boyfriend.

His lips pressed against the column of your neck. He nipped at the skin before soothing the area with a lick. You leaned your head to the side to give him more access while your hands gathered at the bottom of his shirt.

While Taehyung was marking up your neck, you were untucking his shirt from his pants. You wasted no time as your hands glided up and down his smooth chest.

Taehyung hummed against your neck at the feeling and raised his own hands higher up your body. His large hands grabbed your bare breasts since you weren’t wearing a bra. He gave them a squeeze, which earned him another noise from you as he finished his work on your neck. Taehyung pulled away to admire what he did, taking note of the faint bruising starting to form.

You took the opportunity while he was sitting up to remove his shirt. He smiled down at you and helped you. He reached down and gently started raising your hoodie. You grabbed the ends and pulled the material from your body. Once that was off, Taehyung carefully removed your shorts and underwear so you were completely naked.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he whispered, hands trailing up your bare torso. “So pretty. My pretty girl.”

He slotted his lips against yours again. His hands reached around your body to press you against his chest. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Taehyung held you close.

“I want to try something,” he said when he pulled away.

“Okay,” you agreed. You didn’t need to know what he wanted to do. You trusted Taehyung with your life. He would never do anything to harm you or put you in danger. He knew your limits and you knew his.

Taehyung smiled and stood up cautiously to make sure he didn’t hurt you as he climbed off you. He sat down near the curtains and patted the spot in front of him.

“Come here,” he said.

You wondered what he was planning as you made your way to where he sat. You sat in front of him and silently watched as he picked up the strand of lights from before. He scooted closer and began weaving the strand around your body. He was careful in his movements, adjusting any bulbs that were pressed against your skin so they didn’t burn you—even if it was minimal.

So, that’s what he had in mind. Watching his deft motions had your heart pumping rapidly. While you and Taehyung had dabbled in tying each other up in the past, it was never to this extreme. You had no complaints, though.

“Does it hurt?” he asked and slid a few fingers between the light strand and your skin to see if they were too tight.

You shook your head and glanced at his work. He had arranged the strand so that they were entwined around your torso and legs. They wrapped around your breasts, your ass, and your legs. The sight had you feeling giddy as you started to feel yourself get wet.

“Use your words, bear,” he said and lifted your chin to meet your gaze.

“No,” you replied; your eyes locked onto his dark ones.

“No what?” he prodded, hand still holding your face in place.

“No, sir,” you mumbled.

Taehyung gave your lips a featherlight kiss in approval before he stood up. He unplugged the lights on the curtain railing before grabbing his camera again. He wanted to make sure the only light that was in the room was coming from the strands around you. He took a few test shots and adjusted his settings accordingly.

“Just pose however you feel comfortable, baby,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” you said before leaning back on your elbows, eyes on his shirtless body as you picked your first position. You kept your legs closed and tilted your head back. The angle had your back arching in the air.

Taehyung’s eyes followed the shape of your body. His heart raced in excitement seeing you tied up. The way the soft glow from the lights illuminated parts of your body while the darkness in the room hid others was a beautiful contrast. He couldn’t help but admire how enchanting you looked. The sight was enigmatic and alluring.

Seeing your body wrapped in the light strands had stirred his creativity. He felt jittery as the overflow of ideas blossomed in his mind.

Taehyung snapped a shot and moved to another side of the room to get a second angle.

Like before, your positions changed with each click of the camera. Some had your legs stretched out while others had you bent over. Taehyung had adjusted your positions at times—moving your arms in specific placements or tilting your chin a certain way.

Each new position of your body had Taehyung’s blood rushing between his legs. His pants had begun to feel too tight, however, he tried to ignore the feeling as he continued to take photographs. It felt great to be on this high of creativity. This was the feeling he was searching for for weeks. He didn’t want it to disappear.

This all changed when he caught sight of your arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. Taehyung’s grip on his camera tightened as he tried to calm his pounding heart. You were being so good for him to ignore your desires. You were so patient with him as you allowed him to capture as many photos as he wanted. His heart swelled at your devotion.

Taehyung grabbed a pillow from the couch before tossing it in front of him.

“Baby,” he called and gestured for you to come over. You came and kneeled on the pillow, looking up at him. You could see the way his pants were straining against his hardening cock. You squeezed your legs together when you felt a gush of arousal from seeing how turned on he was.

“You’ve been so good to me,” he cooed and moved some of your hair from your face. “Do you want to take a break?”

If taking a break included wrapping your lips around his dick, then yes.

You nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Taehyung gave you a small smile before he let the camera hang around his neck to unbutton his pants. You placed your hands on top of your thighs as you waited for him to undress.

“Good girl,” Taehyung murmured when he noticed you waiting.

Your sights were fixed on his crotch, watching with greedy eyes as he tugged his pants and underwear off. Your gaze trailed the vein lining the length of his dick up to his leaking tip. Your lips parted in anticipation.

Taehyung held the back of your head and brought his tip to your lips, lining them to spread his precum across your mouth.

“Pretty,” he husked as he observed your lips. “Go on.”

Your tongue darted out to taste him while you brought a hand to his shaft. Taehyung inhaled a breath from the simple touch and tangled his hand in your hair. You brought your mouth to his tip, giving his slit a few kitten licks before sinking your mouth around him. You closed your eyes as you began to bob your head slowly. You took your time to feel every ridge of his cock as you sucked him off.

“Fuck,” Taehyung panted above you, hand tightening in your hair when he felt his dick hit the back of your throat.

You moaned around him and lowered yourself more. You breathed in through your nose as you tried to fit him all in your mouth, gagging for a second when he went deeper. Despite your efforts, you weren’t able to sink all the way down and pulled back with a gasp.

“You’re doing so good, bear,” Taehyung praised. “Always sucking my cock so well.”

The compliment had you leaning forward again to take him in your mouth. Taehyung chuckled and met your eyes as you looked up at him. The way your lips parted around his thick cock while you stared at him had him twitching in your mouth.

He quickly raised his camera and took a photo.

Even though you have modeled for Taehyung in the past, you had never been a part of something like this. It made you nervous that someone was going to find the photos, however, you were too aroused to worry about that now.

You pumped the part of him that wasn’t in his mouth, mouth hallowing around him as you slid up and down. You could feel your inner thighs become wetter from your arousal. Taehyung’s moans were becoming more frequent with each movement. You thought he was going to finish in your mouth until he suddenly pulled away.

You whined and tried to pull him back to you. He placed a hand on your arm and shook his head.

“Not so soon,” he commented and lowered himself on the floor with you. “Gotta take care of my baby girl, too.”

You smiled at his reply and kissed his lips. Without breaking the kiss, you moved so both of you were sitting on top of the rug in the living room.

Taehyung held the camera with one hand so it didn’t swing and hit you as he leaned over. He lowered you back against the rug, pulling away from you. He glided his hand down your chest, fingers bumping against the light strands you were still wrapped in. His hand moved lower until they grazed your dripping cunt. Your legs trembled at his light touches, and you reached down to grab his hand. When you tried to pull his fingers closer to your core, he pushed against you.

“What do we say?” he questioned.

“Please,” you begged, getting needier by the second.

“What do you want?” Taehyung pulled away from your grasp and ran his fingers along the inside of your parted legs.

“Your fingers,” you said. “I want your fingers. Please, sir.”

“Better,” he said and slid a slender finger down your slicken folds. He suppressed a moan at how wet you were. He coated his finger in your wetness before pushing it inside. He pumped it for a while before adding another.

You moaned at the feeling, hands coming up to grip your breasts. You rolled your nipples between your fingers as Taehyung continued his movements. It wasn’t long before he added a third and started increasing his speed. Using his other hand, he retrieved his camera.

“Lift up for me, baby,” he instructed. You did as you were told, planting your feet on the rug and pushing your hips upward. Taehyung hummed in approval at the better angle.

“Shit,” you whined when he spread his fingers, stretching your walls while he took a photograph.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” Taehyung said as he pulled his fingers from you.

“Please sir,” you cried.

Taehyung held the camera again as he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss upon your lips—contrasting his sinful actions and words. The kiss didn’t last long and he was pulling back before you could wrap an arm around his neck.

Taehyung spread your legs wider as he nestled closer. He rubbed his dick between your wet folds, causing you to buck your hips up. One of his hands came down to pin your hips still as he continued the motion a few more times.

“Need you inside me,” you pleaded.

“You’re forgetting your manners a lot tonight, huh, baby girl?” Taehyung chuckled dryly.

“S-sorry sir,” you stuttered when his tip rubbed against your clit. “I need you inside me, sir. Please.”

“You’re only getting off the hook because you’ve been so good to me,” he said and aligned his cock with your entrance.

“Thank you, sir,” you said, holding your breath as you waited for him to push inside.

Taehyung slid in slowly. You leaned your head back with a moan as you felt your walls stretch to fit his size.

Taehyung’s eyes focused on how his dick disappeared inside your pussy. His lips were parted as he pushed himself all the way. He took a moment for you to adjust before he began rolling his hips into yours. His pace was steady yet powerful.

You had forgotten about the music until you noticed his thrusts were in time with the melody. The music added to the atmosphere as Taehyung kept with the tempo of the song. You gripped onto the rug as he snapped his hips roughly as a deep bass part hit in the song.

“You feel so fucking good. Taking me so well. Looking so beautiful,” he rambled, not caring how choppy his sentence was. His eyes flickered from between your legs to your breasts. They bounced with each sharp thrust. The strung lights had made the sight more arousing. He quickly took another photo.

Suddenly, he pulled from you and rolled you onto your stomach. He placed the pillow from earlier under your hips and pressed your face into the rug. His hands grabbed your ass roughly as he rubbed it, watching keenly as your ass spread to expose your wet pussy.

Taehyung gave your ass one last harsh squeeze before he lined his tip and pushed inside again. He took a second to admire the way the lights outlined the curve of your ass. He couldn’t help but take another photo before removing it from around his neck. He hastily placed the device on the floor near him and grasped your hips.

His pace was quicker this time, not caring to follow the beat of the music anymore as he chased his high. He reached around and started rubbing your clit. You were a moaning mess as he rammed into you while stimulating you.

Your legs began to shake as you neared your climax. Your walls squeezed his cock as you tried to keep your orgasm at bay.

“Close,” you panted. “Please let me come, sir.”

Taehyung smirked when you remembered your manners this time. He circled your clit faster when he felt your body shake.

“Go ahead,” Taehyung granted.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cried, gripping the rug as you came around his cock. Taehyung’s movements against your clit slowed as your body started to relax under him. Your walls were still hugging him so well and you were whimpering his name so sluggishly beautiful; he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Where do you want me?” His breathing was harsh as his thrusts were becoming rougher and irregular.

“Inside, please,” you said. Your response had Taehyung falter in his movements. It wasn’t often when you let him come inside. Despite being on the pill, you were still cautious… Most of the time.

“Really?” he gasped, biting his lip as he forced his orgasm away for a few more seconds.

“Yes,” you slurred and started to grind against his hips in an attempt to get him to come.

“Fuck. I love you,” he hurriedly replied, granting him a weak laugh from you.

Taehyung snapped his hips against yours a couple more times before he pressed you into the pillow as much as he could. Your name fell from his lips as he emptied his load inside your cunt. He stayed like that for a moment, planting soothing kisses against the skin he could reach.

You whimpered when Taehyung gradually pulled out. As you felt his seed spill out of you, you heard a familiar click. You glanced behind you to see Taehyung holding his camera to his face—one eye closed.

“You’re not going to use those for your assignment, right?” you asked. You knew the answer would be no—they were definitely too inappropriate to submit—but you still wanted him to confirm with you.

“Hell no,” he said and switched the camera off. He shuffled over and unplugged the lights that held you. “They’re for my eyes only.”

“What about mine?” you huffed and started to sit up. Taehyung helped you stand up then scooped you into his arms.

“You weren’t the one taking pictures,” he teased as he carried you to the bathroom.

“No, but I was the main focus. I deserve to look at them just as much as you,” you argued with a pout.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, a smile on his lips.

Taehyung set you down in the middle of the bathroom and grabbed a rag, damp with warm water. As he cleaned between your legs, you started to undo the light strand around you. It was much more complicated than you expected and you ended up waiting for Taehyung to finish cleaning you up so he could untangle you.

True to his word, Taehyung did not use those photos for his assignment. He also didn’t use the photos where you were in your hoodie since he believed you were showing too much skin. After all, his classmates would be viewing these photos along with his professor.

Though all that tying up with Christmas lights was not in vain. It had given him the eureka moment he was searching for. You had stayed up that night and recreated some of the photos—dressed more conservatively this time. Taehyung was still fascinated with how the light and dark contrasted each other. He loved the unique take of silhouetting a body.

Thanks to your Christmas decorating, you aided in Taehyung’s assignment, which he was able to turn in before the deadline.

The scandalous photos hid on an SD card that was buried in one of his desk drawers. You both had looked them over once his assignment was submitted since he could take a rest. The sight made your body warm as you looked upon the photos that were taken from his point of view. Some of the photos captured his dick halfway inside your soaking cunt, giving you a clear view of how his dick stretched your walls. Needless to say, you both didn’t sit idly after viewing the photos he took.

I hope you have smiled today. You deserve to be happy. Happy holidays, again! 💜

[watchmegetobsessed]

Failed, Faked, Fallen - Harry Styles

a/n: this story was a pain in the ass, not gonna lie and i really thought i would just end up deleting the whole thing but I MADE IT TO THE END YAY so now please take the time to read bc it literally made me want to jump off a cliff lol

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ for putting up with me throught the writing process, she is the reason i didn’t just delete the whole thing haha

pairing: Fratboy!Harry x Reader (fake dating AU)

word count: 16.6k

masterlist

Tonight has been in the making for ten years. Every fiber in your body is protesting against it, but you just can’t carry this massive secret around any longer. You need to tell your best friend that you are in love with him, have been since middle school when you first met him. It’s a scary thing to come clean about your feelings for someone, but you feel like it’s now or never.

Your friendship with Oliver has been always a little… blurry. You were just regular friends when he was dating someone, but whenever he was single, he seemed to seek comfort and intimacy with you. It always starts with him getting a little more touchy and cuddly with you, then comes the kissing and hugging, his hands wandering to places friends shouldn’t explore and you somehow always end up in a bed…  

Then it would immediately change once he got himself a girlfriend and you figured he has just been confused about his feelings for you. It has to be that, right? These past few weeks the situation was the same. He broke up with this girl he was seeing all summer before you all came back to school and you think this is the perfect time to finally talk about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Your roommate, Sandra has helped you with your makeup for tonight’s frat party and now you are deciding on the dress. You want to look your best so when Oliver confesses his love for you tonight, you’ll look as dreamy and pretty as you always dreamed about.

“The black one is fucking mint,” Sandra points at the black bodycon dress lying on your bed. “I can give you my red leather jacket,” she offers, finishing up putting her hoop earrings in.

“The red jacket?” you eye her in surprise. Sandra loves that jacket more than her own life. The two of you have been sharing your clothes since you became roommates last year, but the jacket has been off limits always.

“I know how important tonight is for you. The occasion deserves the red jacket,” she chuckles, stepping to her wardrobe to get the jacket. It’s the most badass leather jacket you’ve ever seen, looks so perfect on Sandra every time she wears, you feel honored she is letting you take it for the day.

“Oliver won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” she smiles at you excited once you’re all dressed. The jacket looks amazing, pulls the look together perfectly, you can’t deny that.

Soon enough, the two of you leave the dorm and head in the way of Kappa Chi, that’s only a fifteen minute walk away from your dorm. They are having a party almost every other week, those boys would celebrate the stupidest shit just to fill their house up with people and booze as much as possible. You and Sandra have been attending their parties since first year, it’s always a great way to unwind after a tiring week at uni.

“When is he coming?” Sandra asks over the music once you two arrive and head to the kitchen for a drink.

“Um, he texted me ten minutes ago that he is about to leave soon. He’ll be here shortly,” you tell her and thank her when she hands you a beer in a red solo cup.

The house is packed, just like always. Most of the football players from school are member of Kappa Chi, so naturally, all girls want to be around when they are throwing a party. You could say they are the popular guys, but it’s not like in the movies. They are just some particularly handsome guys living together, attracting a lot of girls. They are not at all unreachable, you are kind of friends with a few of them as well even without being a sorority girl yourself.

Standing in the kitchen you get into a conversation with a few girls from your dorm, that’s when you see Harry Styles storm through the house, Naomi Saddler following behind him, seemingly very much in the middle of a fight he doesn’t want to take part in. You know Harry, but you couldn’t say you two are that close. You did a group project last year together and he is actually a really smart guy despite the gossips about him just being a dumb womanizer. He surely is a ladies’ favorite, but you wouldn’t say the description fits him. You haven’t actually seen him with more than three girls since freshman year, unlike some of his other teammates that hook up with a different girl every weekend. He and Naomi have been in this on-off relationship for a few months now, but you don’t know much about them. You don’t run in the same groups to know the details.

The two of them disappear upstairs and you are pulled out of your thoughts when someone asks you a question, so you forget about Harry and Naomi in a blink of an eye.

An hour passes and still no sign of Oliver and you start to feel anxious. You shoot him a text, struggling a little with the typing thanks to the alcohol you’ve been consuming to keep your cool. Surprisingly, he answers right away.

Oliver: Be there in 3. Meet me outside?

Y/N: Sure!

“Alright, wish me luck,” you tell Sandra as you fill your cup again and head outside.

Kappa Chi has a nice backyard with a decent sized pool, some beerpong tables and lots of lounge chairs. You walk past the beerpong games, paying no attention to them at all as you go for an empty lounge chair. You sit down, fix your dress nervously and wait while you try to think through what you’ll tell him.

You can’t believe you are finally telling him how you are feeling. Your teenager self would be peeing herself is she knew what you are planning to do now. All those years of pining and crying whenever Oliver had a girlfriend in the past, now is your chance to finally be that girl and you’re actually quite convinced he’ll say he feels the same way about you.

Fidgeting with one of the zippers on Sandra’s jacket, you nervously wait for Oliver to show up. You look in the direction of the backdoor right when he appears from the crowd inside. Your heart skips a beat as you stand up quickly, a smile tugging on your lips. You are just about to wave in his way to catch his attention when you see some brunette by his side… holding his hand. And then she kisses him shortly right before they step out of the house.

What the fuck?! This cannot be true. Who is she? And why do you know nothing about her? Did Oliver keep it a secret that he is dating someone? But why?!

For a moment you actually feel like you are about to faint. Blood rushes out of your head as you see the couple walk their way around the beerpong tables, Oliver obviously looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

“Y/N! There you are!” he beams happily, pulling the brunette with him when he finally spots you. You need a moment for yourself to get over the first wave of your shock.

“Oh, yeah! Hi!” you smile awkwardly, eyes meeting with the girl’s. She is so pretty and actually seems nice. You hate her for that.

“Y/N, I want you to meet Lexi,” Oliver introduces the brunette. “Lexi, this is Y/N.”

“I’ve heard so much about you, Y/N!” she smiles, pulling you into a hug that catches you off guard for sure.

“Wow, I… wish I could say the same,” you bitterly reply, eyes meeting Oliver’s once Lexi lets go of you. He is clearly uncomfortable at your comment, but tries to mask it quickly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to tell you about Lexi. But it’s kind of new.”

“How new?”

“We’ve been going out for about three weeks,” she answers your question, her hand finding his pretty quickly as she smiles up at him with so much adoration.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out for a moment. You still haven’t completely processed that your plan just went straight out the window and that once again, Oliver chose another girl over you.

But then, the more you think about it, the angrier you get. You are tired of this stupid game you two have been playing, but you also have no idea what to do about it.

“I thought that Y/N, if you have a boyfriend, we could maybe go on some double dates! Would be so much fun!” Lexi suggests, but her words make your stomach churn. You have always wanted to go on double dates, but with Oliver being your date. Not someone else’s…

“I uhh… I don’t…” You are so frozen, you can’t even think of an answer, you just want to leave as soon as possible, so you can cry yourself to sleep. Oliver brings an arm around Lexi’s shoulders, looking down at you as if he wasn’t cuddling you just not that long ago. As if he wasn’t preaching your beauty a few weeks ago, making you feel like the only girl in the world. This is so not fair.

“Y/N is not a fan of double dates.”

Suddenly, an arm swings around your shoulders and a tall body stands next to you, pulling you to his side. Turning your head you are shocked to see Harry standing there, smiling at Oliver and Lexi as if this discussion was completely his business.

Oliver seems just as shocked as you are. He is staring at the football player by your side with wide eyes.

“Wait, you two are… dating?”

“It’s pretty new, but yeah. Y/N and I have been going out for a while. Right, baby?” He squeezes your arm, glancing down at you and when your eyes meet, he gives you a look that says ‘just go with it, I’m saving your ass’ and you decide to play your part.

“Oh, umm, yeah. We’ve kind of reconnected when we got back after the summer,” you nod, hoping that your voice doesn’t give you away.

“That’s amazing!” Lexi cheers, clearly eating up the impromptu lie, but as you glance at Oliver, you can tell he is sceptic.

“I didn’t even know you were friends in the first place,” he comments, eyebrows furrowed a little as he eyes Harry’s hand on your shoulder.

“We were! We had a great time working on a group project last year and then later I asked for her number. But the summer was so busy for both of us, so we kind of fell out, but then we met again in September and I finally manned up to ask her out.”

You are impressed by how easily Harry is lying. If you didn’t know it wasn’t true, you would eat it up just as easily as Lexi is doing right now. Especially because his body language matches up with what he is saying so well. He is keeping you close, fingers dancing on your upper arm and shoulder, anyone would think he actually has a thing for you, but you know that’s not true. You two are barely even friends.

“That sounds so nice. We definitely should meet up sometime, the four of us!” Lexi suggests again and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“We’ll see about that. But I’ll have to steal Y/N away now, I have something to show her.” Harry bids his goodbye quickly, pulling you away before Oliver could even say a thing and you just blindly follow him inside the house.

You don’t even process what’s happening. Harry takes your hand, pulling you through the crowd and you catch Sandra’s gaze who is still standing in the kitchen, her eyes widening when she sees you with Harry. You just shrug in confusion, following Harry upstairs until he leads you into a room that, you assume, is his.

When he shuts the door closed, the noises of the party gets muffled and you look at him with probably the stupidest look ever.

“Alright, let me explain myself,” he breathes out. “I’m sorry if I stepped over some boundaries, I just… I was outside and heard the conversation. Thought I would help you out.”

“But what made you think I needed help?” you ask. The conversation was very innocent for an outsider. He couldn’t know what you were planning to do, so why did he think you needed his help?

Harry gives you a tight-lipped smile, cocking his head to the side.

“Y/N, we might not be close friends, but I’ve seen you around with Oliver. It’s written on your forehead that you have the fattest crush on the guy.”

“What?!” you snap, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Is this really that obvious?!”

“Don’t worry, seems like he is one of the few that don’t seem to notice it. I saw how uncomfortable you were when he introduced the girl. Seemed like you needed the help.”

Nodding you take a few seconds to process everything that just happened. You shouldn’t have drunk that much, because now your brain has to work even harder to put the picture together.

“Alright, but… now they think that we are dating. Lexi will want to meet up with us and it will look stupid if we never even show up again together.”

Harry nods, his lips rolling into his mouth and you know just from his look that there’s more.

“Yeah, about that. I might have had some selfish reasons behind my actions as well.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry walks past you, over to his bed and sits on the edge, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, if you should sit next to him or somewhere else, he has a few beanbags in the corner of his room, but you decide to just keep standing.

“So, I don’t know if you know this but I had this thing with Naomi Saddler.”

“Harry, everyone knows it.”

“Right, yeah,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So the thing is, we have broken up a long time ago, but she keeps coming after me and I’m just so over it. So when we were fighting earlier today I told her that I’m dating someone else so I would appreciate if she left me alone.”

He doesn’t need to say more, you finally see the whole picture. He helped you because he felt sorry for you, but also because he thought it would benefit him as well. You could be his new girlfriend so Naomi would finally let him be. You have to admit, it’s a lucky coincidence, but still, the situation is a little absurd for your liking.

“So… what are we supposed to do now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Harry looks up at you, seemingly surprised you haven’t snapped at him.

“Well, I know it sounds crazy, but I think we both would benefit from it if we just… pretended to be a couple,” he clears off.

“Like, a real couple?”

“Well, obviously not real, but it would look real to others,” he chuckles, standing up and taking a few steps closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m convinced we could pull it off.”

“We barely know each other.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for that, won’t we?” he asks with a boyish smirk. “Look, we just have to appear together here and there. I’ll pick you up sometimes, we can go for lunch or dinner sometimes, and I’ll get you tickets for some of my games. That’s it. People will see us out together and that’s gonna be perfectly enough. Or do you actually hate me? Now is the time to tell me.”

“I don’t hate you, I don’t know you that well,” you reply with a soft chuckle. “But I’m not convinced enough this is a good idea at all.”

Harry sighs and walks closer until he can rest his hands on your shoulders. You look deep into his green eyes as he smiles at you warmly.

“Let’s make a deal. You can use me as an excuse whenever Oliver and Lexi wants to hang out with you, or if they actually force you to meet them, I’ll go with you so you won’t be the third wheel. And you’ll just have to say that I’m your boyfriend and spend some time with me so Naomi believes I’m dating you. I think it’s a fair deal for the both of us. And you can call it off anytime, I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You chew on your bottom lip, thinking hard to figure out what to do. Judging from this short conversation with Lexi, you’re sure she’ll try to keep you around often, but you are not in the mood to watch Oliver be all lovey-dovey with someone else, so you could actually use a solid excuse, which Harry just offered you on a silver plate. You just have to spend some time with him in exchange and tell people he is your boyfriend. It’s not that horrible and you always thought Harry is nice company, you two just never was in the same friend group to get closer. You can’t really bring up anything against his plan.

“Okay,” you finally nod, Harry’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Really?”

“Why are you so shocked? Your points were valid, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Yes! Thank you!” he cheers, arms wrapping around you as he hugs you tight in excitement. “I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, you won’t be disappointed!”

You want to say how it’s easy to be the best because you’ve had none so far, but you decide to keep this information to yourself.

“We need to get our story straight though, so we don’t mess it up when someone asks.”

The two of you go over an elaborate timeline of your nonexistent relationship so you’ll be able to tell the same story. It’s the same he told Lexi and Oliver outside, you just agree on the details, like when you started dating, how he asked you out, what you’ve been doing as a couple lately.

When you leave his room a little later you’re still a tad bit shocked where this evening ended up heading. You really thought tonight would be the turning point for you and Oliver, but now you are in a fake relationship with Harry Styles, ready to fool everyone around you.

Walking down the stairs Harry takes your hand and laces your fingers together. You agreed on no kissing on the lips for now, but other touching is allowed, you’re just not used to have someone other than Oliver touch you like this.

“Want another drink?” he asks as the two of you walk into the kitchen. You’ve already caught some wide-eyed look upon your arrival, but you’re trying your best to ignore them.

“I surely need it,” you nod, making Harry chuckle.

Sandra and the other girls are still in the kitchen and she immediately pulls you to the side when Harry lets go of you to get drinks.

“What the fuck?!” she snaps, clearly a little drunk, but not enough to ignore the fact that she has seen you now two times holding Harry’s hand.

“Sandra, don’t freak out, I’ll explain it all when we go home, alright? But… as far as you know, Harry and I are dating.”

“You what? You better fucking tell me everything when we get back to the dorm!” she demands right when Harry appears, two cups in his hands, giving you one of them.

“Here,” he smiles warmly.

“Thank you. Harry, this is Sandra, my roommate.”

“Hi, I think I’ve seen you around, but we just never met.” Harry holds out his now empty hand and Sandra shakes it with a dramatic smile, clearly still confused about the situation.

“Yeah, but I guess we’ll be… seeing each other more?” she implies, telling Harry she knows something is up without using those words.

“Ehm, I guess,” he nods, a little uncomfortable before he turns to you. “Alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Let me know when you want to go back to the dorm.” “Sure,” you nod, Harry squeezes your hand gently before moving away.

Sandra is dying to know what the situation is with Harry, but you don’t really have the chance to talk in the middle of the party, so it’s postponed to later. You and Harry do your own thing through the rest of the night, occasionally interacting whenever you cross paths. When that happens he makes sure to touch your arm or face, have a few words with you so people see that the two of you have a thing going on.

It’s a little past one am when you and Sandra decide it’s time to head home. As promised, you shoot Harry a text that you’re planning to leave and he replies with one saying he’ll meet you outside at the front. By the time you and Sandra step outside, he is already there waiting.

“Ladies, let me walk you home,” he smirks charmingly, offering his arm for the both of you, so this is how you head home: you, Sandra and Harry walking side by side with linked arms.

“Mm, Harry, I hope you know you won’t be spending the night in our room,” Sandra sighs, clearly a little too lost in her drunk thoughts. Harry chuckles, finding it amusing that Sandra is so blunt.

“Weren’t planning to.”

“Good. I’m not gonna listen to you guys have sex all night.”

“Sandra!” you snap at her, gasping. It’s funny how she also believed the little act you and Harry put up tonight.

The walk back to the dorm is short and it’s mostly filled with Sandra’s babbling about whatever catches her attention. Arriving to the building Sandra says her goodbye to Harry, heading up to the room on her own so you can have a minute with Harry.

“I’ve had at least ten people coming up to me tonight, asking about you,” Harry tells you, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

“Really? And what did you tell them?”

“What we agreed on. That you’re my girlfriend.”

“Sounds so weird,” you admit with a chuckle.

“You’ll get used to it,” he nods smiling. “Well, I’m gonna head back. I’ll talk to you later, okay? We’ll discuss the dates and all.”

“Very romantic,” you point out smirking, but Harry just laughs before he gives you a quick hug.

“Good night, Y/N. Or should I say, baby?”

“Bye!” you sing waving in his way as you walk into the building.

It’s no surprise that Sandra is already out when you walk into the room. Her clothes are in a pile next to her bed, but she managed to throw on at least a t-shirt before she passed out. You just smile at her before doing your quick night routine and go to sleep yourself.

“So… you are fake dating Harry, because Oliver introduced you his new girlfriend and also because he is trying to get rid of Naomi? Am I getting this right?”

Sandra narrows her eyes at you over her morning coffee the next day, though it’s already past noon. Waking up was a little painful for the both of you, but especially for her, the two of you decided to treat yourselves for a very late brunch while you tell her everything she needs to know about last night.

“Yeah,” you nod, taking a bite from your waffles. “I know, it sounds stupid, but… it can easily work great for the both of us.”

“I can’t believe he just came up with it. You guys are not even really friends.”

“I know, I was shocked when he appeared all of a sudden and called me baby. Almost fainted,” you chuckle.

“I hope you know you’ll be one of the most envied girls in school if the news spread and I’m sure it will, because even I heard people talking about you and Harry last night.”

“I know, but there’s not much I can do about that,” you shrug.

“I feel like it’s the plotline of some teenage rom-com,” Sandra huffs. “Just be careful, Y/N,” she sighs, finishing off her coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that pretending can easily turn into reality. If you’ll spend so much time with Harry, there’s a chance you’ll develop real feelings for him. Just make sure you won’t end up with a broken heart.”

“That’s silly, I won’t fall for Harry. I…” You cut your words, thoughts wandering over to Oliver right away, and how you felt when he introduced you to Lexi.

“I hope you’re right,” Sandra tells you, stuffing the last bits of her muffin into her mouth.

The weekend flies by fast, you busy yourself with doing laundry and finishing a paper you need to turn in soon. Harry text you on Sunday that he’ll walk you to class on Monday morning and you agree to meet up a little earlier so you can actually talk it all out.

Sandra is still in bed when you leave in the morning. Just as Harry promised, he is waiting for you in front of the building, wearing his usual black skinny jeans and a loose grey shirt and a zip-up hoodie. His curls look untamed, a little all over the place, but it looks good on him. You have to admit, that he is definitely handsome, you understand why so many of the girls at school are after him.

“Good morning, girlfriend,” he smirks, holding out his hand for you that you take, still feeling a little weird about walking around campus hand in hand with him.

“Good morning. How was your weekend?”

“Pretty boring, we had to clean up after the party,” he chuckles. “Wanna grab a coffee?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You swing by the little café that’s on campus before aiming for a bench under one of the pergolas near the main building.

“So, you still haven’t changed your mind,” he speaks up. It’s not a question, more like a comment.

“Not yet,” you chuckle softly, sipping on your cappuccino.

“I meant it that you can tell me whenever you want out. I don’t want to force you into it in any way.”

“I know,” you smile at him. “I’m fine for now. It’s just still a little weird.”

“I know, but I’m kind of happy you are the one I’m doing this with.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know, you seem like a cool person. I actually enjoyed working with you last year on that project, you are funny and smart, I think we’ll get along pretty well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smirks at you, taking a sip from his coffee. “You know, if I’m being honest I never understood why you and that Oliver guy were so close anyway. You’ve known him for a long time?”

“Yeah, met him in middle school and we’ve been friends since then.”

“And how long have you been… you know,” he implies, seemingly very careful not to ask something that would upset you.

“Pretty much ever since I’ve met him,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. It sounds so embarrassing to admit that you’ve been in love with your best friend for so long and never worked up the courage to do something about it.

“You never even tried to tell him?”

“I was too afraid of his reaction. I was planning to come clean at the party finally, but then he arrived with Lexi and… you know the rest.”

“I’m sorry. I know how shitty it is when you have feelings for someone and they don’t feel the same about you.”

“So what’s the situation with you and Naomi then?” you ask, thinking it’s only fair if you also know his story now that you confessed him how ridiculous you’ve been with Oliver all your life.

“We dated at the end of last semester, tried to keep it up in the summer as well, but it didn’t work. It made me realize I don’t even want it to work so I told her that we should just go our separate ways when I got back after the summer, but she wasn’t a fan of my idea.”

“She’s still in love with you?”

“I’m not sure if she ever was,” he truthfully answers. “I think she liked the idea of dating someone more than she liked me.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he smirks at you playfully. “I’m all good. I just wish she could accept that I want to move on. It’s not ideal that I have to fake date someone to get rid of her.”

“She always seemed like a nice girl to me, I wouldn’t have guessed she can be so stubborn.”

“Well, she is a nice girl,” Harry nods. “We were just not compatible on the long run, you know? I couldn’t see it work in the future, so I didn’t want to waste more time on it.”

You just shyly nod, even though you don’t really know about it. You can’t, because you’ve never been in a similar situation. You’ve had a few attempts at dating in high school, but they never turned out the way you wanted and you always ended up pining after Oliver at the end, so you eventually gave up. But you’re not willing to admit that to Harry. It’s pathetic enough that you’ve been so hung up on Oliver your whole life, he doesn’t need to know that you gave up your whole dating life for the wait for him.

“Well, aren’t we a nice pair then? Two ridiculously failed love stories, how tragic,” Harry chuckles softly as he finishes up his coffee and throws the empty cup into the bin next to him.

“Yeah, pathetic,” you agree with a tight-lipped smile.

It takes some time for word to travel, but by the end of the first week of your fake relationship, it becomes a well-known fact that you are indeed dating Harry Styles. You don’t overdo it though, only meeting up once or twice a day, Harry usually walks you to your classes in the morning if he doesn’t have a lecture himself, you’ve had lunch together twice and you went to the library on Thursday together. It’s been pretty casual and you’ve been actually enjoying spending time with Harry, especially because it seems like Oliver has fallen off the face of Earth lately, barely even talking to you.

The more time you spend with Harry the more you realize he is nothing like others try to make him look like. You’ve heard many gossips about him being an empty-headed womanizer, but he is a lot smarter than people assume him to be, but he has proven it before as well. He actually has a great point of view of life and it’s nice to discuss basically anything with him.

Friday brings another party and though you didn’t plan on going, you had Sandra and Harry convincing you this time. Then later Oliver texted you asking if you’d be there and it angered you a little. He barely spoke to you and is now asking if you are coming to the party where he’ll probably keep ignoring you for Lexi. So you told him you and Harry would be there. He didn’t reply to that.

You and Sandra call an Uber, the Omega house is a little farther away from the dorm than the Kappa house. Harry called you to tell you he’d be a little late this time because they are having a double practice today, but he would come and find you when he arrives.

“Isn’t it a little weird you can’t hook up with anyone because of the Harry situation?” Sandra asks as the two of you make your way through the spacious living room, heading to the empty loveseat in the corner.

“As if I did a lot of hooking up before,” you scoff, taking a sip from your drink.

“Okay, but you could be doing it now, but you can’t, because people would think you’re cheating.”

“It’s a good thing then that I’m not into hooking up,” you point out with a shrug. You were never a fan of just hooking up with someone and then move on the next morning, that’s just not for you. It’s not a big deal that you are kind of out of the dating scene because of your arrangement with Harry, you don’t feel like you’re missing out on anything.

The two of you are joined by a few peers from one of Sandra’s classes and you barely even notice when Oliver and Lexi arrive, however, they immediately spot you.

“Y/N! Hi! So good to see you again!” Lexi greets you, pulling you into a completely unnecessary hug.

“Oh, hi. Good to see you too, I guess,” you chuckle awkwardly. Oliver gives you a side hug as well, but it seems like he is not entirely present in his head.

“Where’s Harry?” Oliver questions.

“He’ll be here soon, he just had double practice today,” you tell him and he nods shortly, but something feels off about him.

Lexi makes you come to the kitchen with them so she can get a drink and you can’t really think of a reason why you shouldn’t, so you find yourself listening to her nonstop chatter while Oliver is mixing them something to drink.

Y/N: Harry, SOS! When are you getting here?? I’m stuck with O and L…

You really hope he is somewhere close, because you’re not sure how long you can put up with their company.

“I know last time you said you’re not a fan of double dates, but I really think we should give it a try!” Lexi begs you, she even puts her bottom lip at you and it annoys you how she can’t just leave you to be.

“Yeah, I would love to get to know Harry better,” Oliver chimes in.

“You do?”

Relief washes over you the moment you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, a moment later you feel his palm on the small of your back and you’re finally rescued. He smells like fresh body wash, he surely just had a shower right before he came here. You let yourself lean into his side, curling an arm around his waist.

“Harry, nice to see you again,” Oliver smiles at him dryly and now you’re sure something is up with him, but what is it?

“Sorry I’m so late. Everything alright?” Harry looks you in the eyes and you know his question is more than just him being nice. He wants to know if Oliver and Lexi has driven you up the walls.

“I’m… fine, yeah,” you nod and he holds your gaze for another moment before nodding to himself.

“We were just talking about how amazing a double date would be. I’m sure you could convince Y/N to come, right?” Lexi smiles at Harry and you catch a small frown on his face before he returns the smile to Lexi. You find it funny, but you push down your laugh.

“Um, not sure. Y/N always has a strong will, not sure I want to go against it.”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!”

“Y/N doesn’t like PDA, I’m sure double dating is a lot for her,” Oliver comments and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.

“How would you know if I disliked PDA?”

He has no valid information about it. He wouldn’t know, because the only person you ever wanted to get touchy and lovey in public was him, but he only let you get physically close to him when no one was around. When he felt like he needed someone in his bed so he didn’t feel too alone. When he let his hands roam your body under the blanket when you were watching a movie. He never let it happen with others around though, so how would he even know what you like? Hell, even you don’t know it…

Oliver’s eyes meet yours and it’s clear that your question caught him off guard.

“You told me,” he simply answers.

“I don’t remember,” you retort, not letting him get away with it this time.

“This is how you’ve always been.” He is clearly pissed that you are going against him.

“You know what? Let’s do a double date next weekend, alright? But we have somewhere to be now, if you’ll excuse us,” Harry cuts in, taking your hand as he pulls you away from the happy couple. You glance back at Oliver one last time before turning around.

Harry walks you out to the backyard and the cool air hits you hard in the head. You haven’t even realized how hot you were getting in there, but you’re not entirely sure it was because of all the people, rather of because Oliver’s behavior.

“Okay, what the fuck was that in there?” Harry questions.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m not dumb or blind. Lexi might be oblivious to whatever you and Oliver have going on, but I’m not. Something has happened between you and him, right?”

You chew on your bottom lip, crossing your arms on your chest, not too keen on admitting it. You have never told anyone about it in details, not even Sandra. She knows you and Oliver get a little too close at times, but she has no idea you’ve slept with him on several occasions. You always thought you were a fool for sleeping with him and then watching him date other girls.

Unfortunately, your silence is enough for Harry to draw his conclusion.

“Wait, what? Did you two…?”

“Yes,” you shortly nod, feeling uncomfortable, but you can tell you can’t dodge this conversation this time.

“You’re telling me he has the nerve to sleep with you whenever it’s convenient for him and then drop you when he starts dating someone else?”

“It sounds worse than how it really is,” you mumble, but you don’t truly believe your own words. It’s pretty bad either way.

“Y/N, this is fucked up. A friend wouldn’t do that to you. It’s one thing to seek comfort at your friends, but using them for your own physical needs is just way beyond the line.”

You have nothing to say. Deep down you know he is right, you’ve always known, but you never knew what to do against it. Before you could even stop yourself, you feel your lips trembling, tears bubbling in your eyes as you glance at Harry. You expect pity from him, an act that tells you that you brought it all to yourself, but that’s not what you see. He gives you an apologetic look and he is quick to pull you into a tight hug, exactly what you need right now.

“I know, I’m so stupid,” you mumble into his chest.

“You’re not. He is just an ass,” he corrects you, earning a small chuckle from you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks, pulling back so he can look into your eyes.

“You just got here.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood to party. Want to have a bite somewhere?”

“That would be… great,” you nod with a small smile, sniffling a little before you wipe your cheeks.

You let Sandra know you’re leaving with Harry and she can tell something has happened, but you just tell her you’ll talk later and she doesn’t push it further. Harry takes your hand as the two of you make your way through the people and you spot Oliver near the kitchen, one arm around Lexi’s shoulders as his gaze meets yours. You see him clenching his jaw when he sees your hand in Harry’s hold, but you don’t pay much attention to him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

Luckily Harry drove to the Omega house so now you don’t have to wait for a car or take a long walk, you can enjoy the comfort of his Rover as the two of you leave the party behind. It’s silent in the car, you fold your arms over your chest, your head resting against the car door, not even questioning him where you are headed.

About ten minutes later Harry pulls up at a little diner, the two of you walk in and it’s not surprising there are just a few people lingering around at this time, though you know later they’ll have quite a few drunk students that are on their way home and in desperate need of a late night bite.

You take an empty booth and a waitress arrives immediately, handing you each a menu.

“Do you go here often?” you ask quietly, eyeing the options.

“Sometimes. They have great fries.”

You nod and decide to have just a cheeseburger with fries and a lemonade while Harry gets the veggie burger and a milkshake. The waiter takes the order shortly and leaves you alone. You’re not sure what to say, but you feel like you need to say something.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, staring down at your arms laying on the edge of the table, your right hand covering your left.

“For what exactly?”

“For… I just feel so stupid about this whole… Oliver thing. I know I shouldn’t have done what we did, but I just… couldn’t say no. I know, sounds ridiculous.”

“No, not at all,” Harry shakes his head. “You fell for him and he used you. If there’s anyone to blame it’s him, he shouldn’t use a friend for his own selfish needs. I’m not judging you, it’s easy to fall into holes like this.”

“I just really thought that he came to me because I meant something for him, but I can tell that… it wasn’t anything like that. The way he acted today was shockingly sobering,” you chuckle bitterly. “I think he is mad that I’m not available for him anymore and he is trying to play us down,” you say pointing at him and yourself. “So when he breaks it off with Lexi he can count on me, but it’s not happening.”

“I am happy to help you teach him any kind of lesson,” Harry grins just as the waiter arrives with the food and you start the feast. “I know you despise the idea of going on a double date with them, but I think we could have a lot of fun,” Harry points out while eating.

“How?”

“It’s obviously bugging Oliver that you are dating someone, we could give him the extra happy couple act, make him question why he was always such an asshole to you.”

“You think it would bother him?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckles. “We would serve him all the sappy, lovey couple shit from movies and get under his skin. I think it would be fun.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” you nod and Harry grins at you from across the table.

“Yes! Fake dating on maximum level!” he cheers, punching into the air, making you laugh.

As the two of you eat Harry talks your ears off and you know exactly why he just keeps on talking. He wants to take your mind away from everything about Oliver and he succeeds. He tells you stories about what it’s like to live in the frat house, all the funny things they’ve done with the boys and you just keep laughing and laughing until all the food is gone, the table is cleared off and it’s nearing one in the morning. Just as you expected, people from around the campus start dropping by for their midnight bite so the two of you slowly head out, not really wanting to run into someone you know. Harry drives you back to the dormitory and walks you up to the entrance.

“Thank you for tonight,” you breathe out, still feeling a little helpless and pathetic, but he definitely made it better with his company.

“No worries. After all, this is what boyfriends are for,” he chuckles lightly. “But I hope you are not gonna sink into self-pity over that douche.”

“Just a little?” you peek up at him with a scowl.

“Nope, not even a little, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your time. If he is really gonna let you slip through his fingers, he is the biggest idiot on Earth. And he also has to be blind.”

For some reason, Harry’s words bring a blush to your cheeks, even if there’s a chance he doesn’t really mean them.

“Thank you,” you breathe out and he pulls you in for a hug without hesitation. You wrap your arms around his waist and inhale his sweet scent, melting into his warm embrace before you force yourself to let your arms fall from around his frame.

“Have a good rest of your weekend, girlfriend,” he smirks, backing towards his car. “I’ll see you on Monday!”

“Bye Harry!” you smile in his way before making your way inside.

Not too willingly, but you talk to Oliver the next week about the double date. He sounds clearly surprised that you brought it up yourself and he tries to talk you down, but you’re now way too curious about what would go down, so he has no choice than to say yes. You fix the date to Saturday and Harry says it’s fine for him and that the two of you can go over to the frat house later, they are gonna have a small get together for one of the guys’ birthday. Not a party, more of a beer and pizza type of evening since Clyde, the birthday boy is not that big of a party animal.

The week passes by as usual, you spend some time with Sandra and a little more with Harry. Since you’ve started this whole dating thing, you’ve found yourself getting used to have him around. It doesn’t feel forced anymore, you actually like hanging out with him, have him beside you in the library even if you’re not even talking and whenever you spot him waiting for you in the morning or after one of your classes, you have this stupid smile on your face walking up to him, especially when he calls you girlfriend. Sandra’s warning words pop up in your head time to time, telling you to be careful with having actual feelings for Harry, but you keep telling yourself the two of you are nothing else than just good friends.

Saturday morning you get your nails done with Sandra, have some much needed girly time since you’ve had little of that lately, even a fake relationship needs a lot of time and energy, if you’re being honest.

Sandra catches you smiling down at a text that’s from Harry, he just joked about wearing a tux to the roller-skating rink and you imagined it right away, the picture of everyone else dressed casually while he is dressed for a royal ball is just hilarious.

“So how are things with Harry?” she asks from the chair next to you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyes fixed on your nails as the lady is carefully painting them a light pink color.

“You two are like glued together.”

“Yeah, I like spending time with him. And like, we are dating,” you smirk, finding it funny to just casually say it.

“You do know you don’t have to keep the act up with me, right?”

“I know, but we really are friends,” you nod.

“Just friends? Because sometimes being friends with someone is a bit more to you,” she comments and your face falls. She right away realizes it was a little harsh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t want to see another guy taking advantage of you.”

“He is already taking advantage of me in a way, but it’s mutual,” you shrug, trying to mask the fact how much her words hurt. You’re still trying to get over the whole Oliver thing and though it’s been easier with Harry around, you still feel hurt over how badly he has been using you in the past years.

“And… you don’t have feelings for him?”

“We’re friends,” you tell her again.

“Yes, but you can have feelings for a friend too, Y/N.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. We are doing fine, I enjoy being with him, that’s all.”

“Alright, I believe you. Just want to make sure you are not getting yourself into another Oliver situation.”

“I’m not. Harry is not him,” you firmly state and it’s the truth. Even if things go south with him, you can never see him do the things Oliver did. He is not him in the best possible way.

 For the double date you choose to wear your favorite pair of light-washed mom jeans with a tank top tucked into it and a colorful cardigan under your jacket. Harry texted you that he would pick you up at six and because you are ready by half past five, you sit around in your room a little anxiously. You honestly have no idea what’s gonna happen tonight, where it’s gonna head but you can only hope it won’t be scandalous. People already talk enough about you for dating Harry, you don’t need to be known about being the girl who made a scene at the roller-skating rink with her boyfriend and best friend. It wouldn’t do good to your reputation.

When Harry finally texts you letting you know he has arrived you rush down the stairs, still haven’t been able to shake your nerves off, but as soon as you spot him standing by his car, you kind of forget about everything else. He is wearing his usual skinny jeans with a black shirt, of course, the first few buttons left undone. His hair is getting longer, curls constantly falling into his forehead, but you love it. Makes him look soft and like… like a prince.

“Hey, ready to have fun?” he smirks at you, opening the door to the passenger seat to you.

“I don’t think I will ever be ready for this kind of fun,” you admit with a soft chuckle before getting into the car.

“I’ll be right there with you, okay? We’re gonna crush them,” he grins at you driving. “And we can just leave whenever you want to.” Reaching over the console he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. The gesture sends a shiver running down your spine. It feels so good to have his support, you wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else than him.

Oliver and Lexi are already at the arcade that’s connected with the skating place when the two of you arrive. She looks ecstatic about tonight and it’s almost kind of cute, you’re convinced you’d actually be friends with her if the two of you met under different circumstances.

“Hi! Thank you so much for coming! I know it’s not really your thing, but I’m so happy we can finally hang out!” she cheers, giving you a hug. Oliver and Harry shake hands and Harry gives Lexi a short hug while you just awkwardly nod in Oliver’s direction, already feeling anxious in his presence. Harry takes your hand walking in and squeezes it gently. Peeking up at him he gifts you with a warm smile that tells you: it’s gonna be alright, I’m here with you.

Once all four of you have changed your shoes to your skates and put your belongings to the lockers you head to the rink, you and Lexi in the middle, Harry on your other side while Oliver is on Lexi’s other side.

“Y/N, Oliver has told me a lot about you. What was it like, growing up with him?” Lexi asks as the four of you roll around. You’re not the worst at roller-skating, you can move confidently, but it seems like Harry is the best out of all of you, easily moving around, as if he were on his feet.

Thinking back at your time with Oliver now at Lexi’s question, it’s quite bittersweet. Because you are starting to realize things you didn’t see back then. Like how you were always in his shadow, he was always the guy everyone liked and you were just the girl that tagged along.

“Um, not sure what you want to know about,” you chuckle awkwardly as you watch Harry throw his ball for the first time.

“Was he a womanizer? Tell me the truth! He says he barely dated a few people,” she chuckles, taking Oliver’s hand. He is pretty much avoiding to look you in the eyes as you glance over him and you really wish she didn’t ask you about it.

“He had quite a few… flings,” you say, not entirely sure how to phrase it. He wasn’t a womanizer, but he did start to hook up with you between girls a while ago, making his reputation a little questionable.

“I knew you were downplaying it!” she playfully smacks his chest and you just bite into your bottom lip. This is already so awkward.

“I think Y/N is just exaggerating,” Oliver chimes in, seemingly not a fan of the conversation either.

“Sure, it’s always me,” you mumble under your breath.

Harry takes your hand and gets a little ahead of you before turning around so he is facing you while skating backwards.

“Hey baby, want me to teach you how to go in zig-zag?” he smirks, clearly wanting to ease the tension. Nodding you let him take both of your hands as the two of you stay a little back from Oliver and Lexi. “Don’t let him get under your skin. He is a fucking asshole,” he tells you when he knows they can’t hear him.

“Was he always like this? I have no idea how I could put up with his act,” you mumble with a scowl.

“Fuck them. Come on, let’s have a good time,” he grins before taking the lead.

Harry makes your forget about them so easily, like it’s not even a double date, just the two of you hanging out. He keeps teaching you moves, laughing together whenever you get wobbly. He catches you every time when you’re about to lose your balance, he doesn’t let you fall and every time his arms circle around you, keeping you on your feet steadily, you find yourself blushing at how close he is getting to you. His hands holding yours, small touches on your arms and back, he takes every chance to connect the two of you and you enjoy every second of it.

“Harry, no!” you laugh as he holds your hand, still going around.

“Come on! Just try it! Just a little jump!” he encourages.

“Do you want to see me fall?”

“I would have let you fall a long time ago if that’s what I wanted,” he smirks. He gets ahead of you again, both his hands taking yours and you still can’t get used to how soothing his palms feel against yours. “I’ll catch you this time too, don’t worry.”

“I swear you are trying to kill me,” you groan as you try to figure out how to do a little jump without breaking a bone. “But just a little one!”

“The tiniest one,” he chuckles nodding.

You let him take the lead and he starts pulling you again, skating backwards like he did all evening and when you feel like you’re stable enough, you give it a go.

Unfortunately, what happens is exactly what you were expecting. When your skates meet with the floor again after the little jump, you don’t find your balance and immediately feel your feet rolling out from under yourself. Harry reaches out for you, just like he promised, grabbing onto your arm with one hand while the other one presses into your back, but this time he can’t save you and you pull him with yourself as well. The two of you end up falling to the ground in a laughing mess as Harry is partially lying on you, an arm stuck under you while the other one is across your chest.

“I told you!” you cry out but it turns into laughter pretty fast.

“I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?” he asks laughing and your heart skips a beat at how he called you baby again and Oliver is not even around.

“I-I’m fine,” you breathe out as he peels himself off you, helping you up with him as well. He is so close to you as you finally stand on your feet again, your noses almost brush against each other as you blink up at him nervously.

It would be so easy to kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to feel his lips against yours. Maybe if you move just a little…

“Are you trying to break a bone, Y/N?” Lexi rolls up to you, totally breaking the moment as you both turn to her. Harry leaves an arm around you, hand resting on your waist and you lean against him to steady yourself on your wheels.

“It was Harry’s idea, but I knew I would terribly fail,” you chuckle slightly. Oliver appears behind Lexi, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and you clench your jaw at the gesture. Harry must have noticed the shift in you, because he tightens his hold around you, his hand soothingly running up and down your side. And just like that, Oliver is long forgotten, you can only think about how it feels to have his fingers dancing on you.

“You were never really into athletic things, Y/N,” Oliver comments and you grimace.

“Just because I didn’t play any sports in high school, doesn’t mean I can’t try things now.”

“I think you did great,” Harry smiles down at you. “You just need a little more practice and you’ll be better than me, baby.”

Baby, there’s that pet name again. It’s doing things to you for sure.

Glancing over at Oliver you catch what looks like an eye-rolling and he genuinely looks annoyed by you and Harry and it’s making your blood boil at this point. Why can he be the only one to date someone? Why can’t you have a good time with someone? Now that you are thinking about it, he did it not only with guys, but also with anyone who tried to be friends with you. Oliver wanted him to be your only friend and sneakily ruined every friendship you ever had. Sandra is your first real friend other than Oliver, only because he couldn’t do anything against you forming any kind of relationship with your roommate. But you are now getting quite fed up with his little games and Harry might not be your real boyfriend, but you are friends with him and Oliver can do nothing about that.

Soon enough you decide you’ve had enough of the skating, so you move to the side and start changing back to your shoes. Lexi runs out to the restroom and while you are putting your sneakers back on Harry spots someone he knows, working at the buffet so he steps aside for a minute, leaving you and Oliver alone.

“Are you really dating him?” you hear him speak up and you can’t help the scowl on your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He is just so not the type of person you hang out with,” he comments with a shrug and your eyebrows shoot up.

“First of all, how would you know? My friends were always kind of more your friends, never really had the chance to find my people. And second, what’s the problem with him?”

“The problem is that we all know what he is like. Everyone on campus knows that Harry is famous for going after a lot of girls.”

“And you believe what others say? You know nothing about him. He is not what people try to make him appear to be, but you wouldn’t know, because you don’t know him like I do. And for the record, yes, I really am dating him and I’m very happy about it.”

You can tell he doesn’t like your reaction and he is probably fighting back to snap at you, but Harry soon returns, oblivious to the scene that just went down, however he can sense the shift in the atmosphere immediately.

“Everything alright?” he asks, seemingly innocently, but you know he is asking if Oliver has done something.

“Yeah. Can we leave?” you ask, not too keen on staying with Oliver any longer. It’s getting hard to imagine how you could ever put up with him and his act.

“Are you guys leaving? We could grab a bite together!” Lexi chimes in arriving back from the restroom. You are about to decline, but Harry speaks up before you.

“Oh, we have plans already, but maybe some other time,” he politely says, a hand on your lower back as he pulls you to his side and you’re thankful for his close presence now. If he weren’t there, you would have already jumped at Oliver’s throat probably.

“Oh, okay! I’m glad we got to do this though,” she smiles warmly, taking Oliver’s hand while you just chew on the inside of your cheeks, very keen on leaving as soon as possible.

Your force a smile on your face, bidding goodbye before Harry takes your hand and the two of you head out to his car.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks when it’s finally just the two of you. Staring down at your hands on your lap, you bite into your bottom lip.

“Just… let’s leave. I had enough of Oliver for a life today,” you mumble and luckily, Harry doesn’t try to keep asking around, just starts the car and leaves.

On the way he asks if you still want to come over to the frat house and you say yes, because you feel like you could use the distraction. You’d rather spend some more time around him than go back to your dorm room and be alone with your thoughts.

Just as he promised, it’s nothing big, just a few close friends of some of the frat boys, pizza boxes are piled in the kitchen, music is playing in the background but it’s not blasting like when it’s a party. A big group is playing UNO in the living room using two deck of cards so the rounds don’t end too soon.

You and Harry get a slice of pizza, already starving after the skating and when you’re done with that, the two of you wander into the living room. There’s no more room left on the mismatched couches so Harry plops himself down to the ground and you stop for a moment, because there’s someone sitting on both of his sides, leaving not much space for you, but he is quick to solve the problem by taking your hand and pulling you down so you sit between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.

“Oh,” you breathe out from the sudden contact, but it feels nice. You cross your legs so his legs can bridge over them with his knees bent as he looks over your shoulders to see the game unfold.

“You guys want to play?” one of the girls asks.

“There’s not enough cards for the both of them to join!” another warns.

“We’ll just play together,” Harry speaks up from behind you and in the next round you join the game.

Harry rests his chin on your shoulder as his arms come around you, holding the cards so you can see them as well. It’s the closest he has been to you, basically wrapped around you and it’s definitely doing things to you. The way his chest warms your back, how you can feel every breath he draws because his face is so close next to yours, how his arms cage you gently, you are suddenly aware of even the smallest things.

“Pick one,” he murmurs when it’s your turn to throw a card in. You’ve been so occupied with him that you have no idea what color or number you should pick so you quickly check the deck in the middle before pointing at a red card. “Throw it in,” he tells you, pushing the card up with his thumb so you can take it and put it to the top.

Sitting here, on the floor of his frat house, his arms around you feels so much better than anything you’ve experienced with Oliver and the realization hits you hard in the chest. Turning your head to the side you let yourself take a good look at his perfect side profile, his chiseled jawline, the bridge of his nose and the little wrinkle between his eyebrows as he knits them together in focus, staring down at the cards in his hands. He catches you looking, his green eyes meet yours and a soft smile spreads across his face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head.

“Everything alright?” he quietly asks and you nod.

“Yeah,” you breathe out turning back, but you still feel his lingering gaze on you for a few more moments before he turns away too.

You keep playing as the night moves on, drinking some beer, making you relax even more, though Harry’s closeness does the job just perfectly. Even when you are not sitting on the ground anymore, he always keeps close to you. Curling an arm around your waist when you stand in the kitchen talking with others, he keeps giving your hands and hips assuring little squeezes and you can’t help but lean into his touch every time. You want him close, you want to feel his touch, you love it when your eyes meet and he always shoots you a small smile, it makes your heart flutter, like you’re a little school girl with a silly crush.

Because now you are more than sure that you’re crushing on Harry. How can you not? He has been so good to you, did more than Oliver has ever done and you’ve been friends for just a few weeks.

You leave him for just a few minutes while you use the bathroom and as you return, you catch some of the conversation he is having with one of the boys, Jake.

“Dude, can’t believe the ladies’ favorite Styles is taken,” Jake laughs and it makes you scowl as you stop at the corner, listening on them.

“Jake, I told you to stop calling me that,” Harry huffs.

“I’m just telling you the truth. Every girl on campus is after you.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with me being in a relationship.”

“I just thought that the womanizer Harry Styles wouldn’t settle again for a while.”

“Jake, I’m not a womanizer, stop this bullshit. Just because girls try to get together with me, doesn’t mean I want the same thing.”

You choose this moment to walk in, knowing well Harry must be losing his patience with Jake and his irrelevant accusations. Walking in you smile warmly at Harry, curling an arm around his waist as you lean into his side. His arm comes around your shoulders and he pulls you close. Jake eyes you with an unreadable expression before his gaze returns to Harry.

“Hope you know what you are doing, mate.”

“I surely do,” Harry firmly answers and it makes you smile, especially because you know what they’ve been talking about.

When Jake walks out you turn to face Harry, playfully poking his tummy as you glance up at him.

“Hey,” you smile up at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as his hands fall to your shoulders.

“Hey,” he chuckles. “Why are you so smiley?”

“I can’t smile?”

“Of course you can,” he smirks. “Want to go back a little more?” he asks nodding towards the living room where there are still quite a few people. You nod and let go of him, turning around you are just about to walk ahead but you didn’t see that a girl was coming inside and you bump right into her, the liquid from her cup spilling down your shirt.

“Shit!” you gasp jumping back, colliding a little with Harry’s chest and his hands immediately grab your waist in case you might lose your balance.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” the girl stutters, reaching for paper towels right away, but it helps nearly nothing.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out pressing your lips together.

“Come on, I’ll give you a shirt,” Harry tells you, taking your hand, walking you upstairs. The fabric of your shirt is turning cold against your skin and you really want to get rid of it.

Harry pulls out a simple black shirt for you and shows you the way to his little bathroom. Changing into his shirt you make an attempt to wash yours out, but it doesn’t do much to the sugary spill.

“Do you mind if I stay in it for the rest of the evening? I promise I’ll give it back next time we meet.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles and you catch his gaze wandering down your body, his shirt hanging loosely on your frame. “Do you still want to stay or do you want me to give you a ride back to the dorm?”

“Uh, maybe I should head home,” you nod to yourself.

“Is it okay if I take a quick shower? I feel so sweaty after the skating, just five minutes.”

“Sure, go ahead,” you nod smiling before he disappears in the bathroom.

You hear him turn the water on and walking over to his bed you lie down for a little, feeling the tiredness coming over you all at once. It’s been a long and exhausting day and listening to the soothing voice of the running water you find yourself drifting off to sleep before you could stop yourself.

When you open your eyes again the room is completely dark, but you quickly realize it’s not your dorm room; you’re still at Harry’s. Turning to the side you see him sleeping peacefully on the other side of the mattress, lying on his back. Still groggy with sleep, you realize you fell asleep while he was in the shower and he probably didn’t want to wake you so just went to bed next to you.

He looks like an angel sleeping, his green irises hidden from the world, thick lashes fanned over his cheeks, his pink lips slightly parted as his chest rises and falls peacefully. Sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, seeing him next to you, he is all you can think about and it brings a smile to your face.

Gently, you scoot closer to him, but still don’t touch him, however the movement makes him huff in his sleep and turning to his side his arm falls across your waist, making you gasp in surprise. You freeze, thinking that he might wake up any moment but it doesn’t happen and you’re stuck in his hold, not that you mind it. You push yourself a little closer, your nose almost touching his chest as you make yourself comfortable and closing your eyes you go back to sleep without a worry in the world.

Waking up you find yourself curled up to Harry’s side, one of his army around you while the other is holding your hand on his stomach. Blinking your eyes open you look around and take a few seconds to fully wake up. Harry feels so warm against you, but you think he might not like to find you all melted against him so you try to move away but his hold tightens around you.

“Mmm, stop movin’ around,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Sorry, I just thought that… you might feel hot,” you lie in a whisper.

“I am hot,” he smirks with his eyes still closed and his comment makes you laugh.

“And so full of yourself!” you chuckle and try to pull away once again, but he locks you to his side, not letting you break the position you are in.

“I said stop movin’! I like being warm in the morning,” he murmurs, snuggling you more to his side and you bite into your bottom lip as your smile stretches wider with each passing second.

Yeah, you definitely have a crush on Harry and you can’t even act like you don’t.

“Sorry for falling asleep in your bed,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you let your head rest on his chest.

“Y’ looked cute,” he huffs with a soft smile. “S’alright. Give me five minutes and I’ll be awake to drive you back to the dorm.”

You hum a response and just enjoy it while it lasts, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. But you have to. Slowly, the two of you get ready to leave, you want to change back to your stained shirt, but Harry tells you to just keep the shirt, he has two more of the exact same one so you walk out of the frat house wearing Harry’s shirt, holding Harry’s hand and get into Harry’s car. He is everywhere and you absolutely love it.

“So we have this game next weekend and I thought you might want to come? You don’t have to if you absolutely hate football, I just thought—“

“I would love to,” you say cutting his rambling short as he smiles with his eyes staring ahead at the road.

“Cool. Bring your roommate if you want.”

“Sure,” you smile.

Football has never been your thing, but watching Harry is, so the game turns out better than you expected. Sandra tags along and luckily, she knows a little more about the game than you do, so you can ask her questions whenever you are completely lost about the happenings. Though you don’t know much about what a good player should be like, but it’s still clear to you that Harry is one of them. He scores half the points of his team and you are guessing that’s quite fascinating.

“Am I just dreaming or does he keep looking your way?” Sandra questions after you also just caught Harry’s gaze on you a moment ago.

“So what if he is?” you ask with a shy smile, eyes glued to his running frame on the field.

“Are you guys like… really together?”

“No,” you shake your head. “We are just friends,” you add, the term tasting a little bitter on your tongue.

“But you want more.” It’s not a question, Sandra can see right through you. Glancing at her you let out a huff before turning back at the game.

“It’s hard not to,” you truthfully admit, your eyes following Harry’s every movement on the field. Looking around you see that you are probably not the only one. Half of the girls on the bleachers are staring at him and you can’t even blame them. You have to be blind and stupid at the same time not to like him and apparently, you’re neither.

They win, no surprise. The whole team goes crazy as they score their last point and it puts them in the lead in the last minute. Everyone is cheering and screaming at the boys as they are celebrating their victory, along with Harry.

Jake starts running up and down the bleachers shouting that they are throwing a victory party at the frat house so now you know what you’re gonna do for the rest of the evening. As the team makes its way back towards the locker rooms Harry runs up to you, all sweaty and grinning crazily.

“Hey, you coming for the party, right?” he asks, still breathing heavily from the game.

“Sure,” you chuckle.

“Yes! You guys want a ride?” he asks in excitement glancing at Sandra beside you.

“That would be nice,” she nods happily.

“Alright, meet me at my car in fifteen,” he breathes out and before he runs away, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, then leaves in a rush, catching up with the other guys. Suddenly, it feels a lot hotter than before…

“Okay, there’s no way he is not into you too,” Sandra mumbles to you as the two of you head out to the parking lot.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” she laughs, folding her arms on her chest. “That guy is like a puppy in love around you.”

“What if it’s just his normal?”

“I don’t know, is it? You’re the one who spends every possible minute with him,” she points out and she is right. This wasn’t like this before and as far as you know, he was never like this with anyone either. The only person you saw him act similarly was Naomi when they were dating, so could this be a hint for you that he feels the same way?

You’re still chewing on it when Harry emerges from the building, carrying his huge sports bag on his shoulder, his locks still wet from the shower he must have taken, his smile is still as wide as it was after the game.

“Ladies, fancy a ride?” he asks and as he walks past you he squeezes your hand gently before rounding the car and sitting behind the wheel.

By the time you arrive to the frat house the party is already on, music blasting in the living room where not so long ago you were playing UNO, sitting in Harry’s arms, booze is piling in the kitchen and more and more people are showing up.

“Hey, can you come up with me to drop my bag off and change?” Harry asks upon walking into the house and you nod. Sandra gives you a look that says ‘man up and talk to him’ before you take Harry’s hand and the two of you head upstairs.

“Be honest, did you bore yourself to death at the game?” Harry asks when you’re in the safety of his room.

“It wasn’t that bad, though I definitely need to learn more about the rules,” you chuckle admitting as you sit on the edge of his bed while he moves around, putting away his stuff. You watch him with a fluttering heart as you think about your conversation with Sandra. Even if she is right, how do you bring it up? You can’t just simply drop that you would like to turn your fake relationship into something real, you are not ballsy enough for that anyway.

“I’ll change quickly and we can head out,” he smiles, grabbing his usual skinny jeans and a white shirt from his dresser before disappearing in his bathroom.

While he is in there, you try to build your courage up to have the talk with him. Now seems like a good time, you’re alone in his room, no audience in case he rejects you painfully so no one would witness your breakdown. Chewing on the inside of your cheeks you stand up and start pacing the floor, stopping when the door opens and he walks out, smiling at you warmly as he fixes the dog tag around his neck.

“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“I, uhh… I wanted to talk about something,” you start shyly, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“Okay, go for it,” he nods walking closer.

“I just, I’M not sure how to bring this up, and I hope it won’t sound weird. But I’ve been thinking about, um—I thought about this, what we’ve been doing and I realized that I—“

Your rambling speech gets interrupted when Jake bursts into the room without even a knock or warning word.

“Dude, come down! We need you on our beerpong team!” he urges Harry who gives him an annoyed look.

“Jake, don’t just fucking barge into my room without knocking!” Harry snaps at him.

“Like I haven’t seen your dick before,” Jake snorts and you feel the heat crawling up your neck at even just the thought of Harry naked.

“I don’t fucking care, knock!”

“Okay!” Jake growls rolling his eyes. “But you gotta come down now!”

Harry looks back at you, knowing well you two were in the middle of a conversation, but Jake’s arrival threw you off completely.

“Go, we can… talk later, it’s not that important,” you smile at him weakly.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his hand taking yours.

“Yeah, totally. Just go and celebrate your win,” you chuckle and with that, the moment is already gone.

You return to the party and while Harry gets sucked into an epic beerpong game, you join Sandra in the living room, who eyes you with a curious look, but you just shake your head.

“Don’t even ask,” you mumble and grabbing her drink from her hand you take a big swig from it, hoping the alcohol might help you with your anxious thoughts.

An hour later you feel the buzz, but you’re not at all drunk, just a little… braver than usually. You’ve moved to the kitchen with Sandra and a few girls, you’re sitting on the counter, nursing another drink as you listen to one of the girls rage about her asshole ex. Glancing out of the kitchen your eyes find Harry standing in the living room and for your surprise he was already watching you. You catch his smile, his focus completely on you when the guys are talking to him in his little circle, but he doesn’t seem to care. His gaze brings the heat back into your body, he can make you go nuts with just a look and you want to hate him for that, but you can’t. There’s nothing you hate about this guy.

“Stop eyefucking your man and just… fuck him for real” Sandra chuckles leaning closer to you, so only you can hear her words.

“Sandra!” you gasp, smacking her in the boob knowing well she hates it when you do that. She just cackles, returning to the discussion with the girls.

Soon enough, you see Harry moving towards your little group, creeping his way into the kitchen, stopping right beside you, leaning on one arm, his hand placed dangerously close to your thigh on the counter.

“Hi,” he smiles with his rosy cheeks, he surely has drunk some as well, but he doesn’t seem drunk either.

“Hi,” you breathe out, feeling flustered by his closeness again, a smile stretching across your face as he keeps eyeing you grinning. “What?”

“Have I told you how cute your smile is?” he asks and now you’re sure you’ve turned into a tomato.

“No,” you mumble shyly and almost gasp when his hand moves from the counter to your thighs as if it was the most natural thing, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Well, it is cute,” he chuckles, before turning his attention at the conversation in the little circle, but his hand remains still on your thigh.

From there, the situation escalates pretty easily. All it takes him to get between your thighs is to reach for one of the drinks on the counter next to you, his hand still resting on your thigh, and as he is done with the drink, he places it to the counter, his other hand coming to your other thigh, now standing facing you between your legs. Before you could say anything, he pulls on you a little, so you press up against him, your hands instantly coming to grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself in the movement.

“Hi again,” he smirks with glistening eyes.

“You didn’t go anywhere,” you chuckle quietly, your fingers dancing up to the back of his neck, playing with his curls.

“I know, but it made you smile and that’s what I wanted,” he smirks, so proud of himself. He licks his lips and you catch his gaze wandering down to yours, instantly making you nervous as you think back at the failed conversation you had with him not so long ago. This feels like a moment that could head into a direction you are dying for, but without the talk, you’re not sure if you should take the risky step.

Good thing that Harry is not shying out of it. Pressing forward his forehead meets yours, noses muzzling together as his lips linger so close to yours. You suck on your breath, arms curling around his neck as you wait for him to move the last millimeters between the two of you, and seeing that you are not pulling back, Harry makes the final move.

His lips move perfectly against yours, so warm and welcoming, soft and intoxicating, kissing him feels like a gift from above. He is taking his time with you, tasting and savoring you and you’re definitely not complaining. You could spend the rest of your life kissing him and you’d be fine with it.

One of his hands stays on your thigh, keeping a firm grip on it while the other one moves up to cup your cheek as you angle your head to reach him perfectly. He licks into your mouth without warning and you almost let out a moan at the sensation, but you’re just too busy returning his kisses.

You have absolutely no idea how long you stay like that, kissing and touching each other, but when he pulls back, you can’t help the stupid grin on your love drunk face. Harry’s expression kind of mirrors yours as he pecks your swollen lips once more before getting back to his previous position, his hand never leaving your thigh and you hug his strong, tattooed arm, needing to touch him in any kind of way as the two of you reenter the discussion that never stopped. Sandra gives you a wide-eyed stare and you just bite into your bottom lip, turning into a giggly teenage girl all of a sudden.

For just a few minutes you are absolutely convinced the kiss was real, but that’s all you got. As you look into the living room you catch Naomi’s burning stare and it tells you right away she witnessed the whole scene and to make it even worse, Oliver was standing not too far, glaring at you firmly and they make you think.

What if Harry saw them near and kissed you just to mess with them? What if it was all just part of the act? You should have pressed more earlier and have that damned talk with him, how are you supposed to ask now if he meant it or not?!

The more you think about it, the more painful it becomes and the little evil voice in your head convinces you that he didn’t mean it. It’s not like you want to believe it, but you can’t ignore the possibility that slowly grows into reality in your clouded mind.

You lose both Harry and Sandra at one point after going to the bathroom and though you know they are somewhere around, you feel like you can’t stay any longer at the party. Before anyone could stop you, you sneak out of the house and head back to the dorm, hoping that a good night sleep would get your head straight.

Harry tries to call you, but you ignore them all, heading straight to bed when you arrive. You feel guilty for leaving without a word but there’s just too much going on in your head, you need time to process and figure out what to do.

You’re still up when Sandra arrives back but you pretend to be asleep, not feeling like dealing with her investigating questions about the kiss and why you left so suddenly. It takes over an hour for you to finally fall asleep and escape your buzzing thoughts.

Waking up you see no sign of Sandra and you remember she mentioned that her brother is visiting town so they might spend the day together. Amazing opportunity to bury yourself into your deep loneliness and try to figure out what to do.

Harry has been nonstop texting you, asking if you even made it back to the dorm safely and you just shoot him one message to let him know you’re still alive and then ignore him again. Thinking back at the kiss last night your heart flutters every time, you can still feel the touch of his lips, the way his hand cupped your cheeks, it’s driving you crazy. But then you remember seeing Naomi’s and Oliver’s face and you’re convinced Harry saw them too and you always get to the same conclusion: the kiss was just part of the act.

You barely leave the bed the whole day, lying under your covers and watching Netflix until your mind feels numb enough to stop torturing you with your thoughts. And then, there’s a knock on the door. You freeze, knowing well that whoever is on the other side, you don’t want to see them.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there, I heard you watching The Vampire Diaries,” Oliver’s voice calls out from outside and you let out a shaky breath.

Dragging yourself out of the bed you open the door and stare back at him with a blank expression.

“What do you want?” you simply question.

“I broke up with Lexi,” he answers and your eyebrows shoot up. Without asking for permission he pushes his way into the room, stopping in the middle with his hands on his hips. “Last night, I broke up with her.”

“I uhh—I’m sorry, I guess, but why? She was so sweet.”

“I miss you, Y/N,” he blurts out and your shock just raises. Did he just admit to breaking up with his girlfriend because of you?!

“What?”

“Lexi is a nice girl, but I miss you, I miss what we had.”

“And what is that supposed to be?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you fold your arms on your chest. “You miss fucking me whenever it’s convenient for you? Because I certainly don’t miss that.”

“We both know it was more than that, Y/N,” he smiles warmly, but it makes your stomach churn. Nothing about that smile is friendly or nice, he is trying to manipulate you like so many times before, but it’s not working now. He lost his power over you.

“It wasn’t. You were using me, Oliver.”

“That’s not what it was. We were having fun!”

“I wasn’t! I had feelings for you and you used them for your benefit!” you snap at him, not in the mood to play by his rules any longer. You’ll not let him bring you down again. “A friend doesn’t do that.”

“You could have spoken up against it, but I didn’t hear you complaining,” he retorts and it feels like a slap across your face. “I know you miss it too, Y/N. You don’t have to act like you are into Harry, I can see through you.”

“Oh really?” you snort, finding his words rather comedic. He knows or sees absolutely nothing and he just proved it. “Tell me then what you see!”

“I see that you’ve been trying to make me jealous and I’m gonna give it to you, it was successful.”

“Amazing, only problem is that I never wanted to make you jealous. My feelings for Harry are more real than the ones I had for you and I would really like it if you just left right now.”

Grabbing the doorknob you hold it open for him, wanting nothing more than to get rid of him for once and for all. You’ve had enough of his toxic, manipulating ass for a lifetime.

“Are you really kicking me out and just gonna choose him over me?” he huffs in disbelief and you can tell you’ve hurt his ego pretty badly.

“I’m choosing myself and doing what’s best for me. Now leave,” you demand and he finally moves. Walking past you he stops and looks down at you one more time.

“You’re a fucking waste of time,” he sneers before walking out and you need every ounce of power in you not to go after him and punch him in his arrogant face. How could you ever consider him even a friend, let along sleep with him?! He is the most disgusting and degrading asshole you’ve ever seen and you’ll work on forgetting about his whole existence for the rest of your life.

You shut the door behind him and leaning your back against it you slide down to the floor, feeling your chest tightening at the intensity of what just happened. You lost the person you loved the most just weeks ago and realized that he was never who you thought him to be.

You feel like crying for a little, but the tears never come. Instead, a soft sense of relief washes over you, like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, finally setting you free. One less thing to worry about.

As you push yourself up from the floor you hear fractions of a heated conversation outside and when you recognize both voices, your heart stops beating for a moment. Opening the door you hear the conversation between Oliver and Harry now fully clear.

“Stop fucking acting like you are the center of her world, Styles. She has no fucking idea what she wants,” Oliver snaps at Harry, clearly upset about something he said earlier.

“No one thinks that but you! Stop harassing her like a fucking psycho!” Harry fights back and your lips part at how he stands up for you.

“You’re the one harassing her! Don’t think for a moment you have a chance with her, she wants me, not you! You’ll never get into her pants like I did—“

Just when you’re about to barge out of the room to end whatever parade they are having, Oliver’s groan fills the hallway and as you step out, you see him fall to the ground after Harry’s has punched him right in the face.

“What the fuck?!” you snap in shock and they both turn to look at you in the middle of their fight.

“Your fucking boyfriend punched me for no reason!” Oliver spats, pushing himself up, holding a hand to his jaw that’s already turning red.

“Stop making yourself the victim, Oliver, no one buys it!” you groan at him as you step to Harry. He seems ashamed, even scared of your reaction about the fact that he just punched Oliver, but you are not gonna blame him. He did God’s work in this case.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re still taking his side!” Oliver snaps angrily. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

“Shut up and leave!” you shout at him before grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him towards your room.

You hear Oliver mumbling something under his breath, but you couldn’t care less, shutting the door at him once again, this time with Harry in the room with you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fucking lost my temper and—“ You wave him off, taking his hand in yours softly, taking a look at his knuckles.

“It’s fine,” you smile at him. “Does it hurt?” you ask, gently running your thumb over his reddened knuckles.

“No, it’s alright,” he murmurs, standing so close to you again. His green eyes search yours as his other hand reaches under your chin to lift your head. “You have been ignoring me since last night.”

“I just… had a lot of stuff to do,” you awkwardly answer clearing your throat.

“You sure it’s not because of what happened between us?”

“What? Of course not!” you huff. “I get it, you were just trying to make it convincing because Naomi and Oliver were both watching a-and so you just—“

“What?” Harry asks tilting his head to the side.

“I mean, that’s why you did it, right? I saw them after we—uhh after we you know, kissed.”

“Okay, I didn’t see them and that’s not why I did it,” he admits with a nervous chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought we were on the same page, but apparently not. Y/N, nothing I did recently was because of Naomi or Oliver. If I’m being honest it hasn’t been about them for a while. I really like you and I know I should have talked to you first about it, because now it was all kind of confusing, but I wasn’t faking it. I meant everything I said and did.”

You stare back at him in awe, heart pounding against your chest as his words sink in. He wasn’t acting, the kiss was real and you’ve been acting like a lunatic since last night, completely ignoring him instead of just talking to him, you are such a dumbass!

“Really?” you breathe out, barely more than just a whisper.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “And I kinda thought you feel the same way, but then I came here and ran into Oliver who told me you two just had a chat about… possibilities between you and him?”

The hurt is clear in his eyes and your hatred towards Oliver is not on maximum level. You can’t believe he tried to ruin it all one last time even after you told him you want nothing to do with him.

“That’s not what we talked about,” you shake your head. “He came here, told me he broke up with Lexi and that he misses me, but I told him that’s too bad because I don’t miss him and his stupid little games anymore.”

“Oh!”

“And he tried to convince me to choose him over you, but I already chose you, so he had no chance,” you add, a wide smile spreading across your face as you see him realize what you just said.

“What, does this mean…?” he questions with sparkling eyes as he starts inching closer to you.

“Last night, when Jake barged into your room, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. That I’m not really faking anything anymore, but we were rudely interrupted and then… you kissed me and I thought things were finally going right, but then I somehow convinced myself that it was just because you saw Naomi and Oliver around and tried to upset them.”

“Fuck them!” Harry laughs, his hands finally reaching to grab you by your waist as he pulls you against him. “I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be with you, no faking, no acting, just… you and me.”

“That sounds… perfect,” you admit with a tired smile before he finally leans down and presses his lips against yours.

“I have a warning for you, Y/N,” he mumbles between kisses, his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you hum, melting into him.

“I will not stop kissing you. It’s my new favorite thing,” he giggles, hands pulling you even tighter to him.

“Oh, how upsetting!” you chuckle without a care in the world before the two of you fall to your bed, a mess of kisses and giggles, but not an ounce of faking.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[padf00ts-l0ver]

cafe!au with james potter (i hate this and wrote it ages ago- but let’s just roll with it okay😌)

you heard the bell chime from above the door, signalling someone entering the cafe, you were immersed in a book you'd brought with you to read, so it wasn't until there was a shadow above you and the chair opposite you made a screeching noise,

you'd looked up to see a boy, scruffy dark hair with big rimmed glasses, he looked about your age, and his face seemed awfully familiar to you for some reason, but you couldn't think of why.

‘must just have one of those faces' you thought

"d'ya mind?" he asked, looking between you and the chair. you gave a slight smile before looking back down to your book, "no worries" you'd said.

he smiled gratefully at you, you could hear his fingers tapping down on the table, and his leg bouncing up and down creating a small rumble to the table you could feel his eyes on you, probably attempting to be subtle, yet failing completely

"i'm sorry, can i help you?" you looked up at him again, eyebrow arched

"hm, me?" he smiled awkwardly and tried to play it off, despite knowing he'd been caught staring

"yes…. you- you're the only person here?" your eyebrows furrowed

"right." he let out a breathy chuckle,

"sorry, i just- you look familiar, have we met before?"

you looked at him properly now, racking your brain for where you may know him from-

"oh, i do know you! we had school together ….. y/I/n, right?" he asked you, a bright smile overtaking his face, he'd only kept close contact with his good friends from hogwarts, not many others, ‘it was exciting to spot a familiar face' he thought.

"right!" you answered, smiling yourself now, "james potter, it's good to see you again, been a while"

"it has, almost 5 years since graduation now" he sighed wistfully, like he was remembering the good old days, though he was only 22.

"well 4 for you.. but still, a while!”

he looked down at what you were wearing, "you're a healer now!"

"mhm, what about you?, i always thought you'd pursue the job of an auror, was i correct?"

he chuckled, " i did, for maybe the first year, but i went on a small holiday with sirius a few years ago. we stayed at a place in africa, every day we got to spend with the animals there" he seemed so passionate, consumed in what he was saying, a bright smile adorned his lips, "when i came back home, i missed it! so i took up magizoology"

"magizoology?!" you were excited now, you'd have never expected this from James Potter, quidditch enthusiast who always bragged how he would become the best auror around back in school, now has a job of bottle feeding baboons?

"yeah" he confirmed, glad to see you so happy, he loved making people smile, it was his favourite thing to do.

you talked for hours, until the owner came down and kicked you out as it was dark now and you were ‘disrupting the other customers' even though the cafe was completely empty.

"Well it really was great seeing you!" you said walking though the street with him, as he'd insisted on walking you to your car, always the gentleman, you’d always thought so.

"good seeing you too darling, we'll have to do it again sometime" he looked down at you with a smile

you inhaled a breath, a smile creeping up on you

"definitely”

when you'd made it to your car, you exchanged phone numbers and promised to catch up again soon.

(- 4 years later, you were married 🙌🏻)

(that was a bad ending-😭)

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved. 

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack. 

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone. 

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished. 

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear. 

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right. 

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.” 

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest. 

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods. 

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand. 

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb. 

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you. 

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well. 

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening. 

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand? 

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold. 

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you.  There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

 They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to. 

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

———————————————————��——

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze @itsfeliciatime 

[scuttle-buttle]

Psychopathia Sexualis - Chapter 1

Sequel to The Interpretation of Dreams

Pairing: Modern AU Professor Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After experiencing a whirlwind enemies-turned-lovers romance with the imposing Professor Laszlo Kreizler, things have been wonderful for you. Your studies are coming along, work is enjoyable, and you are in a stable relationship with the man you believe to be the love of your life. Suddenly, everything threatens to come crashing down with the arrival of a face from the past. Will jealousy and desire consume you and destroy the love you finally found?

WC: 1116

Rated: M (will increase in later chapters)

Chapter Tags: domestic fluff, age difference, technically student/teacher relationship, mentions of daddy kinks & sugar daddies

🧠

Time passed quickly since the day you and the doctor finally admitted your feelings for each other. After that you were practically inseparable. You resumed work as his TA, only occasionally getting distracted, but the term was over after a few short weeks anyway. You had agreed to keep everything rather low key, so as not to encourage the wrath of the university. There was no actual rule against graduate students coupling with professors. Nevertheless, the practice was often frowned upon, and you didn’t want Laszlo to get in trouble. If anyone asked, you were just ‘friendly coworkers that sometimes ate meals together after work’. Most didn't pay attention to you anyway since you weren't friends with any underclassmen. Despite the fifteen year age difference you were both on the same page with the seriousness of the relationship. You knew how you felt about each other.

Sara and John found out right away. Because they had expected it to happen anyway there was no reason to hide it from them. The two were beyond happy for you. Whether Laszlo had noticed John slip a twenty dollar bill into Sara’s hand after the admission you’ll never know; at your raised brow John just shrugged and said that it was "about damn time". Bitsy was equally as delighted for you. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was also glad you would be out of the house more often so that she could spend time with her own boyfriend, Lucius.

Now, you are laying on your Laszlo’s bed scrolling through social media. The wintery weather outside his bedroom window gives you a chill despite the warmth of the fireplace he has burning. You were still not over just how nice his place was. It was in a rather upscale part of town and was roughly three times the size of your place. The townhouse style was similar in fashion to his office at the university - full of dark ornate wood and books and even a chandelier in the foyer. When you had asked how he afforded something like this in the heart of the city, he had just said a wealthy great uncle or other had left it in the family. With Laszlo being the only surviving member he inherited it.

Your love was getting himself ready in the bathroom. He had a department meeting to attend on campus in an hour. Tomorrow the new spring term would begin, and you were to resume your post as his TA. An errant thought crosses your mind as you admire the expensive looking painting hung on his wall.

“Laz?”

“Yes, Bärchen?” his response echoes in the large bathroom. You smile at the nickname, little bear. He’d given it to you because he said your presence was like that of a bear, ready to fight to protect herself and those she cared about.

“Are you my sugar daddy?” You can see his reflection in the mirror. He looks scandalized by the implications of your question.

“What would prompt you to ask that?” A blush forms on the apples of his cheeks.

“I mean think about it, I spend time with you - an older, exceedingly handsome, wealthy man - and in return I get orgasms and nice things.” Truth is, you are joking entirely, you know the relationship is conventional. You just like to watch him squirm with teasing like this.

He walks into the bedroom and picks his sweater off the bed next to you. “You're teasing me," he accuses with a grin. "I hardly think it can be considered as that sort of arrangement when you get paid because you are employed to work for me. It is merely happenstance that the other characteristics should parallel themselves to that of a…” he searches for the words, “financial benefactor.” You laugh at his unwillingness to say ‘sugar daddy’. “As for the orgasms…” he smirks and drops a kiss to your head.

He finishes dressing as you bury yourself under the duvet. “What are your plans while I’m detained?”

“I don’t know, figured I would just take it easy today. I need to be well rested for my first day at work tomorrow - I hear some pretty ruthless things about this German doctor I’m going to be working with.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around Laszlo’s waist. “But I don't know, I think I’ll like the guy.” He leans in to give you a chaste kiss.

Checking his watch he sees that he needs to leave lest he be late for the meeting. “You’re welcome to stay here while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two at most. Perhaps we will go to Delmonicos for dinner to celebrate the beginning of a new term.”

“Sounds great, daddy,” you wink. Normally you didn’t tease him this much, but you were in a playful mood.

He rolls his eyes. “Remind me why it is that I tolerate you?”

“‘Cause you love me,” you retort with a broad smile.

He brings your hand up, kissing the back of it as he turns to leave. Softly he whispers “Indeed I do.”

_

Laszlo fiddles with the pen in his hand. The upcoming semester was no different than previous ones. He had stopped taking ‘notes’ long ago as the head of the department continued to drone on. Laszlo would admit, the meeting had drawn on longer than anticipated and he had lost focus on the last few minutes. He would rather be at home in your company than here.

“Before we end the meeting I do have one last exciting announcement - many of you have been around long enough to remember, but we are pleased to be welcoming back Dr. Stratton as a visiting professor this semester!” the department head cheered. At the mention of a Dr. Stratton Laszlo perked up.

“Dr. Karen Stratton will be conducting outside research in the city, so I have asked that she grace us with her presence in teaching an elective on her speciality: sexual deviancy. Unfortunately, she is on a flight to the states as we speak, otherwise I know she would be here to greet you all herself.”

Karen was coming to New York?

The thought excited him, as he hadn’t seen her since he moved to the States four years ago. He and Karen had followed each other's work for years before meeting at a symposium in Vienna almost six years prior. The two remained close until he accepted the current position and fell out of touch.

Meeting over, Laszlo sent you a text to be ready for Delmonico’s when he got home. He had much to look forward to this term.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 4

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst, mention of violence, slow burn Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier. 

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Hope was surprisingly actually kept alive as suddenly you were seeing the blonde-haired super soldier every morning. Sometimes even in the afternoon. While his order never changed -- quite the man with a plan as he certainly liked to stick to a routine -- he became much more talkative. 

It started out as the littlest things. Steve would bid you a good morning or ask you about some breaking news he saw the other day. You entertained the chit-chat quite well in between orders. Steve had practically taken over the seat at the bar, the same one you had offered him that one nerve-wracking day.

Wondering what he would ask you about each day certainly helped to keep your mind off things. Granted, it didn’t totally block out the fact you were speaking to your soulmate’s best friend, but the conversations mixed with that tinge of hope sure did keep thought about the nightmares at bay. 

Nothing was exactly progressing or regressing with the nightmares. They were at a sort of standstill in your mind. They were filled with violence but still were of older times, decades ago. The emotions, though, were not letting up. If you didn’t wake up with vivid imagery of knives being flung and guns being loaded, you sure did wake up with a roller coaster of feelings rushing through you. 

But what was felt from your soulmate didn’t exactly align with what the nightmares told. The small glimpses of Bucky’s eyes as the Winter Soldier wasn’t filled with… anger, sadness, regret. They were just… eyes. They held little to nothing outside of stoic determination. If lines were getting crossed, you weren’t sure. You still walked around feeling like a freakshow on display despite the fact no one, especially your coworker who had seen you initially crash and burn, ever asked you about the soulmate “dreams.”

Well, that was until Steve started getting more comfortable at the coffee shop.

One afternoon, he had apparently decided to get bold. He was lounging at the little bar area and you could feel his eyes watching you clean up some syrup bottles. 

Steve broke the silence, asking you something that he typically always did: “How are you?”

You shrugged with your back still facing him. “I’m doing okay, Steve. How are you?”

“No,” he let out an awkward cough. Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, abandoning your task. “How are you?” He asked with such a pointed look that your heart sank. 

You fumbled with the rag you were still holding, trying to look anywhere but at Steve -- but his demanding presence didn’t allow for it.

“If I’m being honest, not much is getting better,” you admitted. “I still see things, sure, but it's really about the feelings I get. They are so strong but I don’t know how. The dreams are like old memories or something, I’m not sure anymore.”

Steve nodded then looked down at his lukewarm coffee. You didn’t know how he didn’t get tired of that stuff, but you were past thinking he actually came in for the coffee anymore. 

“Thought they would’ve lightened up by now,” Steve eventually said. Your eyes shot to him. Every other word out of this man’s mouth seemed to stun you. You were nearly convinced he knew everything.

You wanted to tread on this, but carefully. 

“Why…” you sighed. “Why do you say that?”

“Hmm?” Steve hummed as if he didn’t hear your question. Your eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“I asked, why do you say that?”

He looked away, this time at the lines of syrup bottles behind you. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes shining with concern. Maybe he just needed that push and you wanted him to confirm… something, anything. 

Steve snapped back to you suddenly. “Just thought since it’s been a few weeks it’d be better.”

You looked to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “Steve, do you-,” 

You were abruptly cut off by Steve getting up and placing his empty coffee mug on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee.” That was his final parting words for the day before he walked out of the shop, leaving you standing there confused and annoyed. 

But this wasn’t going to be over. Especially not after you went home that night, settled into bed, and gave into the nightmares. While still past memories, they were only a few years old. And featured Steve. Flashed of a bruised, tragic-looking Captain America played out quickly. The feelings washing over you were those of strong love but even stronger regret. Everything pounded in you as the nightmares played, coming in a weird kaleidoscope of clips. The hurt you felt was overwhelming. But there was also just so much… Worry. Fear. Your soulmate was afraid. Afraid of what exactly, you didn’t know, but he was consumed. 

You woke up in the early morning hours, heart pounding, feeling raw from that nightmare. Everything felt powerful like the final straw was snapped in you. You needed stuff to lessen and, supposedly, that could come with actually meeting your soulmate. You didn’t know the logistics of it all, people had been so vague as they preferred to fawn over and treasure the initial dreams, but there were ideas out there about how once soulmates formally met they created new shared dreams. Together, through the connection. These could be just as bad or they could be just as good as the original telepath. No matter the fact, you needed something. You were begging for this pull to loosen. The world was setting you up with this man and you had to see about it. Maybe get some kind of closure, at least. You were exhausted from playing it safe with Steve. Everything from his dumbass vague phrases to his hovering gaze gave you your answers. 

You were once again a woman on a mission, but this time you couldn’t hide behind a coffee counter and brewing espresso. 

You called out of work but showed up at opening time. Your coworker stared at you in surprise when the bell rang but you just gave her a wave and made yourself comfortable at a table right by the door. You sat very still, staring at the glass door, watching the patrons. 

A glance at the clock told you Steve was late for his usual coffee run but you weren’t giving in. If he had any inkling about your confusion he would show, be the confident man he could be and face you. 

Thankfully, you were correct. It was mid-morning by the time Steve strolled in, definitely not surprised to see you patiently waiting. Your eyes locked immediately as he gave a defiant sigh. But he didn’t bypass you for the counter. Instead, after you gave a single nod, he sat at the table, directly across from you. 

“Good morning,” Steve greeted you but he lacked that award-winning smile he always gave with it.

“Good morning,” you said, suddenly feeling iffy under his gaze. You had to practically shake yourself out of it to get back on track. You weren’t backing out, not after what you had felt last night. This would consume you after so many years. Your soulmate was going to consume you if you didn’t man up. “I think we need to talk.”

Steve nodded. “I agree.”

You sighed, a bit relieved. He possibly did know, your suspicions were confirmed. “These nightmares I have - they’re about-,”

“Bucky,” Steve answered so simply, you were almost jealous by how the name rolled off his tongue with ease. That was your soulmate and you could barely talk about him. But that was ending, you reminded yourself. Right now, you were taking steps. Life had become a whirlwind but maybe you needed it. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Everything I see it’s from his days as… you know what.”

“The Winter Soldier.”

You groaned in annoyance with yourself. “I’m sorry, this is just so weird for me,” you said. “I just learned the other day him and I are… And it’s a lot. Everything is a lot. I see and feel so much in the nightmares that I needed to make progress or something but, truthfully, I don’t know how to go about any of this.”

Steve nodded, his eyes looking very sympathetic. He leaned forward, his arms now resting on the surface. You shifted in your seat, staring down at the wood patterns of the table. Steve didn’t seem to mind the lack of eye contact, though, as he began. 

“I’ve known about you for a while,” Steve admitted. “When Bucky began getting back to himself he would talk about you every now and then. I-I don’t know when he realized it but he’d tell me bits of what he thought you looked like, where you went to school, the coffee shop you were always in… And, well, it didn’t take long for me to realize it was you he was seeing in dreams. But he doesn’t know that I see you nearly every day,” Steve let out a light chuckle, almost in disbelief of himself. “And he certainly doesn’t know the dreams he’s relaying to you. I don’t think he’s ever thought about it, honestly.”

Your heart jumped knowing your soulmate actually knew about you. Saw you. Got the loveliest dreams about you. It made you feel pretty good, really. You were glad you were giving him something light, relaxing, after everything he had seen. Maybe that was a fair trade. As long as your soulmate was okay.

“He doesn’t know I see all those… Things?” You asked, your voice dropping a bit timidly.

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “If I had to guess, it would have something to do with the fact that he’s remembering everything,” he said. “Everything he had done, the people and violence… All that comes back to him. He’s said he remembers it all. That’s probably the feelings you’re getting with the nightmares - him handling the aftermath.” 

Your heart dropped at that. You lifted your gaze to meet Steve’s, seeing he was wearing a similar mix of sadness and worry. It was still strange to feel this ache when you were awake.

But you understood, at least, as much as you could. It sounded like there was some healing going on, with everything coming in waves. Did you like that you had to suffer because of it? No. But that was your soulmate and a deep part of you wanted to just take all that pain away for him personally. 

“It’s not fair he has to deal with all this,” you said. 

Steve agreed, “It’s not.”

“But I want to help,” you spoke with such sudden determination. Steve gave you a confused look. “Would he… Would he want to meet me?”

That look of surprise on him suddenly morphed into some form of relief, with a bit of a smirk playing on Steve’s lips. 

“I think I could arrange that.”

“R-Really?” Your hands were practically shaking at this point but Steve seemed too cool and collected, almost proud of the situation he was concocting. 

“If I’m being honest, he mentions something about you nearly every other day.”

Your jaw went slack, now making you the surprised one. “But you knew who I was. Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“Would you have honestly been comfortable if I just sent him in here?”

Well, he had you there. You sighed, shaking your head, sinking a bit in your seat. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t either,” Steve mumbled. “But it’ll be okay. I’ll figure out something.”

You nodded, maybe a bit too eager. “Thank you.”

Steve gave a small smile then averted his gaze to the table as if debating what to say next. You thought the conversation had wrapped up nicely but there was another thing you didn’t expect to hear about.

“You know,” Steve began, “back in the day, Buck never had any dreams and while now we know why,” he motioned towards you. You blushed. “We had just figured he didn’t have a soulmate or something. Like the world had just happened to screw up…” His voice trailed, letting out a brief sigh. “I can’t imagine his relief when he got the first images of you.”

Your heart swelled. It took everything in you not to choke out sobs. The feeling of hope and… love suddenly wash over you. It was such a distant feeling but it was all coming. Slowly, it was becoming an acquaintance. 

“Do you have a soulmate, Steve?”

He nodded. “I did.” You frowned at the past-tense use of the word. “But that time has come and gone. I’m more than happy to help Bucky get his.”

The lovely feelings crept back, stronger than ever. Just the thought of being in the same area as your soulmate was making it bloom even more.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bucky Barnes Series Taglist:

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