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#its the office au no one asked for
cubbihue · 9 days
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the plot on earth: happening. everyone crowing around the lore: okay but tell us more about pixie office shenanigans please
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Once, a new Pixie intern accidentally ordered Blue-White paper with 97 Brightness instead of Cream-White paper with 98 Brightness. It sent the entire Pixies Corporation into an uproar, and they tried to take over Fairyworld as a result. Y'know. To ban Blue-White paper from existence.
It took weeks for Jorgen to resolve it all and bring the Pixies back in line. After that event, interns had to take a 2-course seminar on the differences of printer paper quality before being tasked to order more printer paper.
Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]
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abrahamstalker · 4 months
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More Banban redesigns.
I'm working on Flynn, don't know who to so after that.
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screampied · 3 months
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❝ HOLLABACK GIRL . . ! ❞
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ᡴꪫ sum. you wanna be his favorite girl—but you also wanna be his favorite brat. satoru’s caught off guard when you decide to play with him while he’s in a meeting. not only do you make him pissed but you make him whine.
wc. 7.0k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo au, age gap (early twenties + thirties) office setting, semi-public, unprotected, switch satoru, implied multiple rounds, fıngering, brief masterbatiōn (m! receiving), hold the moan, mild brat taming, dirty talk, praise, spıt, cunnilıngus, breath play, impact play, brēeding, premature ejaculatıon, edging.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist
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being satoru gojo’s sugar baby has its perks,
especially the days whenever you want to be a brat— he takes you everywhere, even to work with him. the thought of leaving you alone at home was a thought he wasn’t so fond of. mainly because, knowing you, you’d probably be a brat and touch yourself while he’s not there. you’ve done it before, more than once actually. and now, you wanted to be an even more brat.
“ . . sweetheart,” he murmurs, feeling an unfamiliar lump get caught in his throat. leaning back against his office chair, the material of the seat creaks from the pounds of weight leaning back against the furniture as his eyes flicker toward your hand. its placement, directly near his zipped open fly. gojo sat manspread, slut. and if you squint, you could make out the outline of his designer expensive satoru blue boxers. his colleagues around him are deep in conversation and he grabs your wrist. “heh, i know you want me but ‘m workin'. be a good girl ‘n—.”
“it’s boring, ‘toru,” you pout, and he feels your fingers intertwine with his. softly, he returns the gesture before you get up from your chair. with a quirking brow, gojo shifts his attention back toward the conversation. glancing at his watch, a gasp then wretches from his throat once he realizes you weren’t next to him anymore. you were underneath the table, staring him dead in the eyes and licking your tongue all around his aroused bulge. your tongue slides its way against the tasteless material and he groans, his eyes widening.
“f- fuck,” he has a sheepish grin, whispering before grabbing ahold of your hair. yanking you forward, his legs spread more and he swallows again. “baby, when i asked if ya wanted somethin’ to eat, this wasn’t what i m- meant.”
his voice was incredibly low — its pitch was enough to make you throb. the way he spoke, it was as if he was holding back a potential whine. 
you were no fool though, you heard the cute little tremor lingering underneath his voice. but damn it all, you were gonna be the death of him. gojo keeps flicking his eyes back towards his colleagues, then back towards you, then back toward his colleagues again. 
you were right between his legs, crouched down on your knees like a good girl—bright eyed and bushy tailed.
he’s still got a solidly secure grip on your hair, lengthy tips of his fingernails massaging near your tender scalp. 
“mr. satoru, at least try to pay attention to the presentation,” one of his assistant’s grouse in slight vex.
the white haired man tugs on his sable black tie with long legs still manspread. with a hand combing through his hair, he coyly smiles. “oh, apologies. ‘m listening, carry o-on,” and his voice trails off once he feels your tongue slither its way against his bulge a bit more. with the help of the tip of your tongue, you create an addictive circle near the fly of his pants. a nice amount of his boxers pokes out and you bring down a hand to feel. he was hard, the moment a brief wind of your breath fans against him, he almost chokes. if you squinted just enough, you could see a few white speckles of hair trail up and up near his navel. gojo had quite the happy trail, you run a thumb against the curled strands before his breath hitches. “mhm hm, yeah.. exactly, i think that’s the—the uh, best approach for the company.”
you stopped listening to their boring conversation a long time ago—he’s loved this bratty side of you more than anything, but the risk of getting caught was so high. 
besides, he’s always been one to tease and edge you. maybe perhaps this was his inevitable karma. 
gojo feels his thigh start to bounce, feeling your cold fingers rummage through the material of his pants. your touch sends him shivers and your playful direct eye contact makes his dick twitch in his pants. 
“fuckin’ brat,” he swears through his teeth, an almost smile going against his lips. 
you being on your knees like this was an image he never got tired of seeing. gojo allows you to pull his long slacks down, halfway but not fully. you were lazy like that, impatient and a greedy girl. one of the many things he’s loved about you. 
what he doesn’t expect though is to see you rub your face against his bulge—it’s so rock hard that you can feel the print against your cheek. with the fabric rubbing against your face, smearing against your skin, it’s just downright dirty. obscene and straight up filthy. 
his breath quickly switches to a more heavy and shaky pattern as he intently watches you, completely forgetting the current eyes of his colleagues on him. the grip he has against your hair grows tighter before his head subtly tosses back in rapture. “nasty girl,” he starts to pant, his voice a mere whisper. seeing your tongue lick against the material of his boxers ingnites something deep in his core. biting his lip, he tugs your head closer before pouting. “quit teasin’ suck alrea-”
“excuse me?”
gojo has a flustered expression, staring back up at the main colleague who’s speaking. 
“i mean— nasty, this coffee is nasty,” he makes an attempt to correct himself, feeling the dryness in the air. the five eyes that glue to him made him feel small, despite him being the only important one in the room. with a sheepish chortle, he clears his throat. “is it hot in here for you all? feels like we’re in the damn sahara, heh.”
“mr. satoru, the air conditioner’s been on. are you sure you’re alright?”
he bites back a moan, not even realizing how you’d already sprung his cock out. with a single hand, you wrap it around his base before giving his tip a sloppy kiss. half lidded eyes take in the sight of his dick — so pretty. 
it’s got a reddened tip, swollen and almost pinkish at first glance. the very undersides near the base was painted with a beige tan and he’s got a bit of a hooking curve. curvy and upward, gojo was far lengthy more than girthy. 
albeit, he had maybe a sprinkle of girth. once the cool air sets against his skin, he grunts. as you’re face first with his staggering dick standing tall right before your eyes, you can’t help but bedaub the flatness of your tongue near his leaky tip.
you couldn’t wait to taste it.
to taste him, 
the bittersweet droplets of pre-cum coat against your tongue all at once and he gnaws his lip almost immediately. you’re nothing but a tease. a damn fine tease with those pretty glossed lips pursing all for him and only him. 
“r- right … right,” he nods at the men, trying to maintain focus but your tongue wasn’t helping. 
you were now making out with his length, smothering the entirety of his cock with a multitude of your tender sweet kisses. gojo being manspread like this, long legs all spread and sprawled for you — it makes you a bit moist.
moist to where you can’t help but creep an arm down between your own thighs. already, you felt your panties getting in a twist. he catches you making an attempt to play with your achy clit and he glares. 
gojo didn’t like whenever you touched yourself. he considered your pussy to be his pussy, 
but it seemed that for today, that wasn’t the case. 
as your fingers creep underneath your skirt, shoving past your panties, you scrape them to the side. his chest heaves, dragging your face further toward his heat to encourage more of your sloppy kisses against his dick. your lips were plushy and soft. a tongue of yours then carnally slides its way down against the pulsing vein that prods on him. “ugh.” he gawks at you with fully blown pupils, fighting the urge to just shove your entire head down. 
you were being the biggest brat, he could see that tantalizing smile forming on your lips. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so flustered before—he’s always been the one dominant and stern, and now . . you had him right where you wanted. 
the moment your lips swirl around the crown head of his cock, viscous honeyed strings of drool seep out from the corners of your mouth instantly. 
it’s unintentionally attractive. your own slippery sweet saliva pours from your mouth, to your chest, and then toward near his base. you’re teasing, bringing a hand toward your tits as it’s now covering with spit, lolling your tongue out to lap it more against his tip. gojo groans at you entirely, hooded eyes catching you starting to fondle with his neglected balls. “y- you cheeky little,” he nervously grins, and you hear him smack his teeth in frustration. he was so uptight. 
you’re really slow, it’s almost painful at how much of a tease you were. bobbing your head up and down to have your throat adjust to his size, you giggle. gulp after gulp after gulp and it’s already thwacking against the roof of your precious mouth. you don’t know how anyone didn’t hear the wet, lewd sounds of paps ricocheting from your mouth and onto his dick but you weren’t complaining. your tongue seductively glissades against his swollen mushroom tip and he jerks your hair forward. 
“mhm,” he glances up at his colleagues who all share the same deadpan. they were fed up with their boss — clearly no idiots, the same suspicious expression plastered amongst each face.
with a taken aback whew, gojo swipes a palm across his forehead as your throat’s keeping his cock warm. “a- alright, think we’re ready to close for today. thank ya fellas.”
“but the meeting literally just started.”
“you wanna look under this table ‘n see why ‘m ending the meeting early? we’re done.”
the audacity for one of his colleagues to try and take a peek under the oval-shaped banner desk and gojo glares before feeling your tongue tease its way down his shaft more. “leave. we’ll f- fuck, pick up tomorrow.”
making haste in unison, the businessmen all leave individually. loud booming stomps of the backs of their shoes thump and drag against the wooden floor before the room’s finally quiet. once the coast was clear, he makes you stare at him and a hand pries you off of his dick a glower shown on his pouty face.
“sweetheart,” he murmurs, a visibly tremor still hidden in his voice. it’s sweet, strands of white hair, similar to bangs, run straight down his face. even his unkempt, messily slicked back hair was still appealing. with doe, dilated irises, you leer up at him, knees still dug into the ground. “you’ve got some nerve, ya know? playin’ ‘n suckin’ me off in front of my c- colleagues like that.”
his voice timidly falters once you take a moment to gather up a decent wad of saliva into your mouth before spitting on his tip, lapping it up before swirling your tongue around the dampened tip. he groans, pulling you right back to face him. “you’re bein’ fuckin’ bratty today. ‘s like you wanna get in trouble, baby.”
“toru, your meetings take forever,” you chastise with a pout, your right hand still tucked between your thighs. he scoffs once he sees your fingers crammed up into your pussy, barely knuckles deep. oh, you were drenched. he could smell your alluring scent clogging up his nostrils from a mile away. peering up at the man, you finally get up from your knees and take a seat on his lap. “besides, don’t think i ever heard you whine before.”
“watch it,” he grumbles, white brows tugging together in annoyance. “and stop touchin’ her,” he grabs your wrist, a glossed string of your own arousal trailing away from your sopping cunt. “little girl,” he gently wraps a few fingers around your throat, cerulean eyes staring into the depths of your soul. “jus’ ‘cause ya had a little fun doesn’t mean you can let those pathetic fingers do whatever they please.”
with a teasing grin, you lean in to kiss against his mouth, a brief feeling of his growing stubble tickling against your skin. “my fingers aren’t pathetic, satoru.”
“oh yeah?” and with a quick drag, he sneaks a long kiss against your mouth, a free hand feeling against your wet folds. your body responds to his touch by twitching, you grind against his lap before moaning. you taste the cooking mint of his breath breeze its way against your tongue before he pulls away, making you turn around. “the nerve,” and you whine once he swats a palm toward your ass hard. it’s loud, ringing through your ears and the thin, bouncy walls also. “can’t even make yourself cum let alone squirt but whatever you say, silly girl.”
and that’s the exact moment gojo stands up—
he’s lean and slim, towering over your body by a mile. you bite your lip as you’re being shoved face first against meaningless paperwork before feeling him slide a thumb down your swollen, opening slit. he’s amused at how quickly you soak a single digit of his. “guess we woke up ‘n decided to be ‘toru’s little slut, huh,” and your pussy was so welcoming. with your pussy all droopy and drooling with your own candied slick running down like the niagra—he can’t help but slap it to watch it smear all against the center of his palm. “walkin’ around with a pussy this wet. oughta be ashamed, sweet thing.”
“s- satoru,” you whimper, hearing a few footsteps shift before he gets down to your ass level. scorchingly warm breath fans against your cunt before he rubs the tip of his nose against your slit. “don’t tease me, f- fuuuck.”
“i'll do whatever i want to this pretty girl, darlin,” and he brings a sloppy kiss toward your cunt. a cobweb of spit leaves his lips not even a millisecond later and he savors the taste. “mhm,” and he whistles by your pussy, a low seductive tune before hearing a low snicker depart from his lips. “now spread these legs f’me. my tongue’s fuckin’ missed you.”
everything was so lewd. you being bent over his desk, his breath blowing against your cunt, the enticingly low whistling, his tongue slowly swirling its way inside, everything.
your mouth slowly opens, tiny babbles of moans pouring from your throat like water out a working faucet. 
his lips stuck against your pussy like glue. as if it was some sort of adhesive. sticky and fucking clingy. the moment gojo had his lips against your cunt, it was no prying him off— he was a bit of a munch. although, munch was an understatement. gojo satoru lived eat and breathed pussy, especially yours, his precious little sugar baby.
every few seconds he pulls away, a pussydrunk grin forms across his crooked pink lips. the sounds of your sweet sobbing cries only fuel him, not only does it fuel him but it’s so loud that it rings through the frail walls of the corridor. it was a pretty spacey room. with the mixture of cacophonous white noise—the fax machine makes a repetitive spitting sound way off in the distance. a plethora of papers scatter across his desk and your face was voluntarily going back and forth against them. 
“aw, not you runnin’ from my tongue, sweetheart,” he purrs, breaking back to watch your cute little squirm. you make a little attempt of moving forward but he only grabs onto your hip. “nah, ‘m not done eating,” and you gasp once he lolls his pink, clean tongue all the way out. gojo had a long tongue—very great in length and perfect to reach all the crevices of your pussy. and it’s gojo satoru, he’s thorough and he makes sure to slurp every ounce of your fervor out of you if it’s the last thing he has to do. his tongue was now flat, and now it drags against your slit, sucking against your tender skin. “taste so mhm, sweet. ‘s too much for you?”
“n- no,” you mewl out, your cunt recognizing every direction of his tongue. in and out, through and through, he knows the exact angles where to go. you’re soaked, drenching on the twitching muscle that’s vigorously flicking and tweaking inside of you before your toes curl. “satoru, what if one of your c- colleagues come back again?”
“after suckin’ me off, that’s what you’re worried about, pretty?” touché.
as he’s teasing you, a thumb of his ghosts down your soddened folds. you whine, feeling your breathing pick up at a rapid speed. whiplash swiftly surges through you before you feel his thumb poke against your untouched hole. instantaneously, you let off a pitchy squeal before the suction against his mouth accelerates. “oooh, ‘s right there, yeah. gimme a better arch though, don’t be a lazy wet girl. even i can arch better than that, sweetheart.”
you whine, shivering manically the moment he presents a sloppy kiss against your weeping folds. sliding a free finger down your cunt, he annexes two more fattened digits along to join before inserting them in slowly. your jaw hangs like an earring but more so pleasure. the sensation was so crude, mind boggling even.
you’re already so stupid, the thickness of his digits shoving inside of you prods and pokes right between your stretchy walls and your back arches. “whewww,” he whistles again against your pussy, humming at the way your ass jerks from his touch. you’re so sensitive—his warm breath, so warm that it’s almost a frigidly cold temperature. a mixture that’s got you confused but in the best way. “atta girllll, arch that ass ‘n give me a proper show. just like i taught ya, baby.” and he spanks your ass before caressing your stinging cheek seconds later.
your whines grow pitchier and pitchier to where they’re just reverberating across the walls. it was an almost echo of your voice—almost as if you were a siren. with his lengthy fingers still buried into the depths of your cunt, he collects a decent amount of saliva before spitting it against your slick heat. he spats right against your pussy and it lands like fresh paint. he chuckles, hearing you whimper for him to do it again. “t- toruuu,” you moan, bottom lip all swollen from the way it was ruinously chewed up. simultaneously, you get even more drenched as if that’s of any surprise. his nose prods against your cunt, swiping all near your slit’s opening as you grind against his face and he snickers. eating you from the back had to be one of his favorite pastimes. once he laughs, you feel the hot vibrations of his amusement pulse through your cunt and it makes you moan. “f- fuck, ‘s good. more please, don’t s- stop.”
“i probably should stop,” he groans, feeling his exposed dick twitch at the sight of you. your arousal turns him on a lot more than he thought it would. he can’t help but bring one of his hands down to stroke himself. he hoarsely grunts right into your cunt, feeling his thumb brush against that same pulsating vein. “this pussy’s so ungrateful, listen to her tryna talk back to me,” and your brows part in desire once he gives you yet another spank against your clit. your sopping wet that’s all slippery and saturated, coating his entire palm with a good amount of your slick. “rude ‘n a slutty brat just like her owner.”
“s- satoru, ‘m close,” you babble as he continues to speak to your pussy.
your voice was a cute desperate battle cry, begging for your approaching release. his tongue with the add of his two long digits sliding in and out makes you weak. your knees were shaking rabidly, so close to relatively buckling before your eyes roll far back into your hollow little cranium.
that’s when two of his fingers curl in deeper. gojo’s knuckles deep, and you’re about to lose it if he inserts one more. it feels sinfully so good, a pool of throbbing heat stirs its way inside of your tummy. he’s got a fine bowling ball grip inside of your cunt. two fingers, middle and ring, slowly easing its way in and out, in and out. almost as if it was some sort of relaxing mediation. they piston inward against your squeezing walls for a bit before the length of his digits miraculously locates your pretty g-spot. “gonna cum. o- oh my god, ‘toru. satoruuuu.”
“don’t cum on me,” he warns, his tone still playful. as he’s continuing to create a wet trail near the crevices of your thighs, his strokes against his dick increases. grunt after grunt leaves his throat before he nibbles on your clit. “not yet, sweet thing. only good girls are allowed ‘ta cum on my tongue. ‘n you haven’t been a good girl, have ya?”
“y- yes,” you stammer, the hotness of his breath making your pulsing enlarge and multiply. your head’s spinning, heart’s racing miles a minute, and your throat feels dry. the moment that simple syllable leaves from your mouth, he gives your pussy a teasing little bite. “f- fuck, ‘toru.”
he snickers. “don’t lie, girl,” and he was already pussydrunk. guilty as charged, a snail-like-trail of your own slithery slick runs down his chin. it’s shiny, and if you squint it’s almost as if it had glitter. dragging his fat thumb and other fingers out of your cunt, he finally gets up and pries his lips away. you pout at the feeling of nothing, you feel almost empty. it’s so sudden and abrupt that you barely even have time to react. “mhm,” he licks his lips, tugging on his tie from feeling a sudden wave of heat. “get up baby. ‘m finished.”
“but—”
“aw, someone unsatisfied?” he utters with a sly eyebrow compressing upward. two rough hands spin you around, pulling you into a sultry deep kiss. everything feels hot— each time you kiss him, your heart races and you can feel yourself floating. not to be cheesy, but it felt pretty cheesy. the more your lips crash with this man, the more your heart was trying to send you a signal. you didn’t know what signal that was, but you were desperate to find out just what it might be. you whine as your arms instinctively throw around his broad shoulders. he’s still wearing a suit and tie. lazily, his slacks were halfway on and pulled down. gojo runs a hand through his slick back hair before hamming your thigh wrap around his waist. “you make me crazy on purpose, huh,” he pulls away for a bit, lapping up your own flavor from your bottom lip. tasting yourself against gojo, it never failed to make you throb. you pout, not liking to be edged but it had your veins going on a rampage anyway. glowing blue eyes stare back into you before he cups your chin. “no back talk? so sad, mhm,” and a thumb of his skims against your lips, trying to spread them apart. “open that bratty mouth again, sweetheart.”
you whine, feeling his knee creep its way up between your legs. your heat, he could feel it. it wasn’t the room being hot but instead, you in particular. 
as your lips abide and part, he leans in and a cunning grin stretches against his pink lips. gojo satoru was playing a dangerous game—the more he spent time with you, the more he started to feeling something. 
was it lust or was it . . 
only time could tell. 
“atta fuckin’ girl,” and he tilts your chin upward before spitting right into your mouth. it’s damp, splattering against the tip of your tongue before he groans. you reach down to touch yourself and he grabs your wrist. “heh, you’re not gonna get off to this, baby. nice try, now swallow,” and he watches you obey, swallowing for him. you moan, feeling him create staticky friction with just his knee. “nasty woman,” he purrs, eyes flickering toward your spit-glossed lips.
you had a look of pure lust,
the human embodiment of the word actually. “we don’t touch ourselves, silly girl,” and he plants a kiss against your mouth. instantly, you taste his candied flavor and a mixture of your own before he pulls away. strands of spit pull its way back from each lip that it’s like a pretty lewd yo-yo string—but made solely of spit.
taking a moment to breathe, still panting and his chest deflating every few seconds, he pulls you close. his cologne, it’s loud and rich.
two words to perfectly describe the older man right before you. 
“careful, baby. startin’ ‘ta think you’re getting obsessed with me,” he titters, flicking a tongue against his naturally glossed  lips. he sits up, finalizing the remaining distance between you. 
a burly brawny fit body grinds up against you, the friction of his suit rubbing against you makes your heart race. it’s beating and beating, booming and booming like speakers. you can hear each individual pulse bang through one ear and out the other. gojo lifts you up with two arms, treating you like a precious doll. in a way, that’s exactly what you were to him.
porcelain.
he didn’t want to break you—at least not yet. 
instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist as he gets ahold of you. it’s slim and quite snatched and your ankle teasingly runs down the reddened lines of his back. gojo grunts, feeling the cold material of the anklet he bought you skim down his skin. engraved on a few of the chained, ashen charms had his initials of the two letters of his first and last name. ‘g’ for gojo and ‘s’ for satoru. the anklet was a resplendent silver color. thinking about how much it might have cost him made your stomach churn. 
like always, he’d shower you with anything in the world. speaking of, he’d buy you the world if he could. he’s gojo satoru, he can afford it. 
your heel and the way it roams down the areas of his tense back alone was seductive. gojo gruffly groans, crashing his lips onto you for the nth time. he couldn’t help it, he was a mere feen for you. for your taste, you were addictive like a drug and he didn’t want a cure—you were dangerous.
a whiney moan slides past your mouth once his warm body ruts against you. 
his boner, 
you felt it, his pants were already off but it still pokes at you. it was hard and pent up, you could almost feel your mouth filling itself up a nice pool of saliva in preparation. all due to your arising anticipation—you wanted gojo just as much as he wanted you. the wait was killing your, the tension was simply brutal. but perhaps the both of you had different definitions of want.  
craving . . noun, a powerful desire for something. 
the more gojo’s tongue shoves down your throat, the more he craves you. you had an sweetened taste to you, it was so sugary sweet that he just couldn’t put it into words. with tongues passionately fighting for dominance—gojo bringing a hand toward your chest to squeeze against your left tit, you tilt your head back. his touch alone was enough to get you off. you hear a low grunt run from his lips the minute he feels you grind back against him. gojo was a greedy man. 
wealthy, but very much greedy.
being with you only made him ten times greedier. he couldn’t take it anymore—your grinding makes him curse under his breath. gojo grabs ahold of his cock, aligning himself before smearing his tip against your achy entrance. so moist, so sweet, the way your slick clings against him the second he grabs his dick back makes him groan. “fuckin’ sloppy,” he huffs, bright eyes staring at the lewd sight. with jagged breathing, gojo makes you lie flat down on his desk. he didn’t really care about the documented papers now being crumbled up and scattered. “mhm, you’re so pretty when you’re pissed off. ‘s the edging irritating you baby?”
“y- yes,” you whine, and he rolls his eyes, making your leg extend further out. he slings it over his shoulder before within seconds, he’s bottoming out.
it’s snug but it fits—it takes everything within him to not break right then and there. your warmth, it makes him bite his lip, taking a moment to suck in a single breath of fresh air. fuck.
“aw, ‘s too bad,” he hums, and you let off a moan once the head of his cock delves its way more inside. one thrust, just one single thrust and you’re already dumb of cock. your walls were attatched more than anything, mindlessly clinging onto him like a koala. you didn’t want to let go, you’re holding him captive with just your insides. “s- shiiiit.” 
his cockiness wears down, feeling just how tight you were for a moment. it’s warm, almost lukewarm. he’s burying himself further into you before leaning up close to your trembling body to get a closer look of your pretty features.
with blown azul pupils, he stares at your body and gazes in awe at how you’re just a sloppy, quavering mess underneath him.
his sloppy quavering mess underneath him,
gojo’s pace starts off to be decent, then turns straight feral. once he tosses his head back, he then feels the secure lock of your legs wrapping around his waist in response. “f- fuck, pretty. c’mon, take the stretch. jus’ like ya always do,” and his words were deep but shaky. even gojo was losing a bit of his haughty momentum. your pussy had some sort of spell that’s making him go insane, he could never get enough.
each clamp makes him go mad. smacks and claps amongst skin makes you suck your teeth in desperation for more. “ugh. fuckin’ sloppy girl. niiiice stretch, yeah baby. eyes up here, wanna see those eyes roll for me,” and he grabs you gently by the neck, a kiss making its way toward your mouth. gojo’s so pretty up close, droopy eyes and white bangs covering his face. tears of sweat running from each sides of his thinly arched brows. “good girl. keep lookin’ up here, eyes on me.”
your eyes look up toward him and he cockily cheeses, pearly whites baring a single fang at you that it’s sexy. you wanted to wipe that smug, dumb grin right off his face.
“s- satoru, fuck me h- harderrrr,” and your little pleads makes his dick twitch inside of you. he’s lengthy, you feel him reach deep deep angles that’s enough to make you drool again. but you already were drooling, tiny trails of saliva pour out from the corners of your lips as your mouth dangles open. a noise was about to come out, but it halts. his tip was so familiar with the layout of your cunt that it takes him no time to reach that spot. an itch scratches itself way into the back of your brain once he reaches there. hearing your harmonic moans turn into pure symphonies. your noises alone was purely euphonic to him. a song he’d listen to on repeat all day if he could—your whines and beloved whimpers. “right there, p- please. pleaseee.”
“heh, can ya be any louder sweetheart?” he jibes, feeling your anklet hit and hit all against his arm.
your back arches against the desk, biting on your lip before you start to twitch. the moment he shoves your knees up to your chest, oh it’s over. it’s so over.
not only was it dirty, but the feeling of it all was simply euphoric . . almost indescribable.
gojo’s cock drags its way through you so good that it leaves you speechless. you’re at a loss for words, unable to comprehend anything in your brain with his zigzagging salacious thrusts. whilst his fat cock stuffs you deep—goopy walls haul and yank back and forth against his length.
with parching, grinding bodies against each other, breaths irregular and out of pace, it was a sight. you’re struggling to maintain eye contact and he finds it cute. “mhm, o- oh, are ya tryna tell me something?” and he simpers, watching you grab his arm to pierce your teeth into it. bite marks in a cute circle form—printing against his skin and he raises a brow, quickening his pace. “kinky girl. still mad at bein’ edged i see.”
sharp chiseled hips drill into you and you’re barely able to keep up with his pace—you whine, momentarily feeling his hanging sack slap against your cunt. you could taste your orgasm, it was right there. so so close, your championing legs fail to remain still the entire time. grabbing one of your legs up again, he even licks a trail near your leg to your ankle. gojo’s stamina was simply out of this world. easily, he could be compared to a stallion. his pace was rough yet deep with a sparkle of passion and thoroughness. if it was anything gojo knew how to do, he knew how to make a woman feel good. “mmf, s- satoru, lemme cum. please, please please,” you babble, feeling your body shake underneath him. the desk grumbles and roars from the pressing weight, and he’s panting—puffy clouds of air forming out from his lips. “wanna c- cum.”
with a coy grin, he moves his body further into you. he’s so close that his skin sticks against yours.
it’s hot, scorchingly hot with such intensity that it’s driving you insane. with glossed lips, gojo licks near your neck. specifically, that spot near your collarbone that makes you whine. with his lips sliding near your ear, he whispers in a teasing, gruff tone. “mhmmm, you wanna cum with me baby? ‘s that what you want?” and as he speaks, his adam’s apple bobs. with his dick still tucked into you, gojo purrs against your skin. “think ya deserve that, pretty?”
“y- yes,” you whimper, bodies moving together in syncing harmony. as you’re being fucked on his the table-like desk, a few edges of thin papers bristle up against your skin. whines shriek out from your throat before your arms throw itself around him. “wanna cum with you, ‘toru. lemme cum. ‘s close, need to cum.” 
“you don’t need shit, girl,” he grips your chin, rubbing a thumb against your lips. gojo’s pace gets quicker, mean thrusts slam into you so good that you forget your middle name. a school of pitchy moans die out from your vocal chord and you gasp once you end up finishing anyway. it’s like a flash, quick and barely able to process what happened. your body shakes in response, jerking with him still inside and you let off a cute squeal. it’s like a wave crashing through you at full speed. the moment you cream on his cock, gojo pauses. an unpredictable tsunami. “oh,” and with his twitching dick still buried into your sopping cunt, he pulls out. “did you just cum on me before i-”
and it’s as if it was right on cue— right as gojo spoke, he ends up finishing too.
talk about perfect timing. it was early, so so early.
too early.
a growling groan tears from him as he’s dumping a hot load into you. it comes out in thick cloudy spurts. your legs continue to wrap around him like a ribbon on a gift, securing him tightly and he gasps. “s- shit, ‘s too early,” and his voice shakes within each embarrassing word that spews from his lips.
gojo slumps into you, leaning in to kiss you. once you return the gesture, he groans, sliding his tongue inside. warm, feverish lips move in tavern before he whines right into your mouth. the moment you grab ahold of his now flaccid dick, he whines again.
your touch, it was fiery like electricity. gojo’s flustered, white strands of hair glue by his forehead and he can’t help but suck against your lip. 
it was dangerous. you were dangerous,
with tongues colliding and clashing back and forth, teeth gnashing all together, a hand of his snakes between your thighs. you gasp, lips parting open so he could get better access and he squeezes a hand against your soddenly wet cunt. rawly, a moan tears out from your throat as you sling your arms over his shoulders for a final time. “s- satoru,” you murmur breathlessly and he silences your words with another deep kiss.
and another, and another,
and by now, you both forgot exactly where you were. having not a single doubt in the world, totally forgetting you were in an office. as you’re still feeling a surge of emotions coarse through your veins, he lifts you up—you watch with a needy gazing glint in your eyes as he slouches back against the chair. “baby,” he whimpers, sprawling his legs out. with a sleazy, worn out grin, gojo rubs a hand against his lap—the g-shock watch that wraps around his wrist clanking against his thigh the more he moves. ushering you over with two fingers, he pouts. “c’mere. don’t be s- shy.”
he was fucked dumb, 
his lungs were strained and he wanted more.
more of you.
the moment you straddle him, your sloshing wet cunt rubs against his hardened cock and he groans. “fuck,” he breathes, clenching his jaw tight. with a glance down, he stares at the way you were all flooded with ropes and ropes of hot cum. it’s slimy, the way it oozes out of your hole and down toward your thighs, he’s so close to getting a taste himself. but instead—he’s more hungry for your lips. “mhm, gimme another kiss, baby.”
you lean in, pressing your warm lips against his. as always, gojo’s sloppy, running his tongue throughout your mouth, tracing the inside of its structure. humid breaths fan amongst each other before he squeezes your ass only to spank it afterward. time’s been lost, it’s probably been hours and gojo satoru had the stamina equivalent to a horse. another round occurs, then another, and he’s just blinded from your pussy at this point.
needless to say, you’ve never seen him so . . submissive. 
he’s whining for you to touch him more, to kiss him, even whisper sweet nothings into his ear. 
after being pumped with sloppy masses of load again and again to your heart’s content, you’ve never felt more full. literally though, it’s so much that it could barely plug its way inside anymore. the sight of his cum dribbling out of your cunt makes him lick his lips. he’s hungry for more and only you could fulfill his appetite.
gojo’s between you with your legs still grasped around his slim waist like a vice. panting heavily, a hand of his cups your face—exhaling a deep, pitchy sigh. the tips of his pointy ears burn a feverish temperature. it’s so hot, you could almost feel his heat radiate onto you. as you return his obscene gaze, he groans as his now soft dick remains idle inside of your clingy stretchy walls. seconds to miliseconds go by before gojo collapses into your neck. 
perhaps you rode him to death. 
“sweet . . thing, you’re so . . pretty,” he hiccups, moving his chin up to stare at your ethereal after state. he got lost in your eyes—your pussy did wonders because he was literally unable to speak for a good minute. with lowly hooded eyelids, you’re breathing irregularly yourself with your breath seeming like it’s gonna be your last. 
you’ve got a sheepish smile, trapping his waist with your shaky thighs. “toru, did i overdo it?” you attempt to tease, giving him a sneaking kiss near the corner of his mouth. his lips twitch, and he slumps back against his office chair. still, you feel the remnants of his hot cum pour continuously, leaking out a bit way down the inner crevices of your thighs. your full lungs could barely keep up with gojo’s pace. his pace—you were still recovering from it. you were in a mere delirious state of your own as you’re trying to compel yourself from your most recent high.
as gojo shakes his head—you could clearly tell he was lying. “n- no,” and he huffs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “fuck, ‘s still cummin’ princess.”
with an incoming whine rudely snatching it’s way from your spit slicked lips, your body slumps backward. all you’re feeling is nirvana, a feeling that was blissful and utterly hard to describe with simplistic words. gojo’s still plugging you full with not only inches of himself but lots of his feverish, velvety ropes of cum. the way you succumb into your own pleasure with him, it’s pretty to see. your eyes has a glow to them and so does his. 
your own eyes roll themselves back as you give in to the your own elation. 
each body twitches from the various elated sensations, staticky electricity piercing through your veins before your legs finally sag back. with a breathy moan, you pull gojo’s head up a bit. “f- fuck,” and as you grip his snowy strands, with half-lidded eyes, you’re met with his pussy drunk state. he looks so pretty, a mere flustered tint paints over his face as his chin’s pouring with your slick even still. “you did so good, ‘toru. so so good,” and you lean up to his ear, whispering playfully. “good boy.”
he tenses as you’re on his lap, breathing stopping and he pauses from those two last words. a gasp makes its way out of his lips before he moans.
“don’t . . let this get to your head. ‘m still gojo s- satoru,” and he squeezes your right ass cheek, yet this time. his grip’s much softer and more . . . tender.
with his head thrown back, he feels your grinding intensify. “but— say it again, sweetheart. call me that one more time.”
you press a kiss against his cheek. “good boy.”
“your .. good boy,” he pants, a growing flush on his face and he’s not only irritated but heavily turned on.
it appears that he discovered a new kink. praise.
“i’ll .. i’ll be your good boy, just for t’night, pretty girl. now finish fuckin’ me. please.”
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megamindsupremacy · 1 year
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Detail I'm toying with the Titanic Trio AU: after an alteration to the timeline, Jordan Elliot became immortal (I think Mr. Mxy did that). In this timeline, Jordan, having outlived Kara's descendants (or so he thought) and discovered that the K-Metal powers had become so adapted to him that if he entered the Sun, he could overload it depowering him and survive, and from there, he could empower the entire Solar System, thus granting it the nickname "New Krypton". This abberant timeline had so much power and knowledge behind it that it was able to survive Fivek's restoration of the proper flow of time as...
The Bottled Century of New Krypton
oh SHIT. bottle city of Kandor part 2 electric boogaloo
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jaewritesfic · 2 months
Text
Melon!AU
Actual writing now, based on this post:
“What,” Tim breathes out faintly, “the fuck is that?”
Language, Bruce thinks faintly, though he doesn't manage to get it past his lips.
He is a man who prides himself on being ready for anything, but he most certainly didn't expect something like this when responding to the Batsignal tonight.
“That is a Pit Demon,” Damian's voice asserts through comms, grave in a way that betrays his collected mask. He's unnerved. “There is nothing else that could be.”
Bruce is unnerved too, though he refuses to show it.
Gordon had half the block cordoned off so no civilians would come through by the time Bruce and Tim - the closest at the time - had arrived on scene. The alley itself is blocked in by police cruisers, though the officers are staying very firmly behind the line and not approaching.
It's no wonder why.
The…thing backed into a dead end alley looks like it's made of smoke and shadow, all long sinuous lines and dangerous angles.
It's vaguely Humanoid in the sense that it has a long torso, arms and a head. The arms are too long, the fingers curved and wickedly sharp. The face is a well of deep shadow, a smooth slate broken only when it opens its jagged mouth to show off a full arsenal of fangs.
The only other facial features are the solid, glowing Lazarus green eyes. Wide and lamp-like, they give the distinct feeling that the creature's sights will not miss anything.
There are no legs. Just the sinuous curves and overlaps of a long smokey tail. It whips about with agitation.
Floating like mist on the water is a head of white hair, edges fuzzy and undefined like it can't decide whether it's a solid or a gas.
The creature lays with its chest nearly flat to the ground, propped up only by those horrifically sharp hands and poised like a predator ready to push off into a sprint.
Glowing Lazarus water seems to pool slowly beneath it, streaked here and there as evidence of past movement.
Bruce finally finds his tongue to question Damian. He can see his youngest standing on the opposite roof of he and Tim, the two buildings that form the alley their perch.
“You've seen something like this before?”
Damian hesitates. “...no. But there are stories of things coming out of the Pits. I doubt I need to explain why this seems to be one of them.”
With that color green shining out of its face and streaked across the alley? No. No, he doesn't.
“Do your stories have any clues on what to do when one shows up?” Tim asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the creature.
Damian scoffs. “Close your eyes and hope your end is quick.”
“Lovely,” Tim bites out, voice a little higher pitched than normal.
“We won't be doing that,” Bruce responds dryly, two taps coming through the comms notifying them of Black Bat's arrival.
Bruce looks up and has to search for her for a few seconds before he can make her out in the shadows of Damian's rooftop.
“I'm still five minutes out,” Dick comms in. “What exactly are we looking at here? Can Oracle give a visual with any cams?”
“I wish,” Oracle chimes in. “Even through the mask footage I have no idea what they're seeing. The feed is corrupted to hell and back whenever it's in frame.”
“Really? In person it looks like-”
Tim is cut off when the officers below make some kind of movement the monster clearly takes issue with, the snarl that almost physically ricochets off the brick walls making everyone wince.
It's like TV static and the crackle of lightning striking a tree, like glaciers cracking and shifting underwater all rolled into one.
The hair on the back of Bruce's neck stands on end.
“Fuck. It's like a living shadow, but all sharp and wrong and angry-”
“No,” Cass cuts in quietly, silencing everyone.
“...Black Bat?” Bruce questions lowly.
“Not angry,” she responds, as sure as ever when assessing a target - no matter what kind of target.
“Scared, hurt. Guarding chest, trying to hide it. Wants to scare us away, but making no move to attack. Posturing.”
The thing about Cass is that they trust her reads implicitly - her reads of people.
She wouldn't speak up if she wasn't certain, and she wouldn't be certain if she didn't see something painfully human in the creature below.
“...what do you suggest?” Bruce asks after a moment of tense silence, trying to reassess the creature and see what she sees.
He at the very least wants her opinion, so they can weigh it in formulating a plan here.
Cass keeps looking for a long moment, before she looks across the gap at him. “Needs help. Reach out - at least try.”
Masterpost
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oukabarsburgblr · 28 days
Text
Perfect to Pamper [Pet AU]
FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC), DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader
Two hot men adopt hybrids as pets! Experience their dynamic and their antics with you as a household animal!
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little to no dialogue, fucking ur hybrid matured pet is normal in this universe
Find out more under the cut!
[LOADING SCENE...] AITO SOUSUKE!
Moving to a new neighbourhood wasn't easy for someone like him. Aito Sousuke had recently bought a new home, down in the quiet suburbs at the edge of the city. The down payment took a pretty penny out of his pocket but that wasn't the most of his concern.
With his resting bitch face, tall and muscular stature and burnt red hair, it seemed that his neighbours were reluctant to approach him. Although that specific neighbourhood was known for its residents being kind and friendly, it seemed that Sousuke had received the poor end of the stick.
He asked for advice from his small group friends and they all suggested for him to get a pet. Maybe a hybrid pet. Easy for conversation starters, a new housemate and someone to live with. Sousuke wasn't too keen on the idea at first but succumbed nonetheless since he felt so lonely.
As he arrived at the pound, he gazed at the young, old dogs, even hybrid ones as well but what caught his eyes was a young hybrid who looked to be around the same age as he was.
Bright (e/c) staring up at him behind jailed cells, his fluffy blonde ears surrounded by (h/c) hair perked up. His tail wagging behind him. A golden retriever.
Sousuke grabbed the tag taped on the cell and read its name. "(m/n)?" The hybrid stood on his feet and peered up at Sousuke, his tail wagging excitedly. The hybrid didn't look like he belonged there.
The redhead found himself bringing home a new dog, ordering a new bedframe and some wet food for the dog.
The morning after, he found the hybrid at the foot of his bed. Staring up at him as he sat plush on the carpet of his bedroom. Sousuke felt like he started to regret his adoption.
The dog followed him everywhere, nudging him when he was cooking, scratching his door when he was in his home office and even shoving his hand under the bathroom door while he was taking a shit.
Sousuke was annoyed, this wasn't the reason why he wanted a pet in the first place. But of course, the golden retriever managed to prance his way into the redhead's cold heart. Slowly, Sousuke looked forward to spend time with the dog, scratching his head, laying on the couch to watch TV, or even bathing together.
However, when he had taken (m/n) to the vet for vaccine shots, the vet had warned him about his late rut cycles. Mostly due to new surroundings and bonding with a new owner and it had been a while since Sousuke had adopted him.
One morning, Sousuke was horrified as he dashed out the door and into the backyard. (m/n) had been trying to jump the fence, climbing over the wooden boards, drooling over the cat hybrid next door. Turns out, his heat had came and his first desire was to mate with his neighbour's pet.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! BAD DOG!"
Sousuke locked him in the guest room, immediately calling the vet for advice and all he received was to wait it out or help him with his own devices. The redhead chose the former, checking in after a few hours.
Creaking open the door, the hybrid didn't notice his owner peeking in as (m/n) desperately humped the sheets. Sliding his cock between a pillow, drooling and growling to himself. He had tossed aside his shirt, sweat dripping from his skin and he was oozing slick from his ass as well.
"Fucking hell man..." Sousuke groaned to himself before entering the room. It wasn't a peculiar relationship for a hybrid to form a sexual bond with their owners, especially mature hybrids. The redhead thought he would never indulge in one.
"Hngg... mmnhh anhh..." Sousuke quietly groaned into the hybrid's ear, his pants bunched at his ankles as the redhead rutted his hips further into (m/n)'s ass. The dog only growled, mewling as he clenched tightly around his owner's cock slamming in and out of his slicked hole.
(m/n) was starting to get loud, howling and whining and Sousuke didn't want the neighbours to call the cops on him so he laid himself on top of his pet. The hybrid on his stomach at the end of the bed and Sousuke laying on top, (m/n)'s sweaty back pressing against the redhead's tight compression shirt. The fluffy wagging tail was a bother to Sousuke, that kept swishing around as the redhead pulled it back and focused his eyes on the twitching furry ears instead.
He pulled the collar on (m/n)'s neck, curling his fingers underneath it as he pulled him close, forcing the hybrid to arch his back. Sousuke put his arm around the dog's neck, putting him in a headlock as Sousuke slumped his head into (m/n)'s shoulder when the hybrid bit into his forearm.
Sousuke moaned loudly as he spurted cum inside the hybrid, (m/n) yelping as he felt semen dripping from his asshole as he milked more of Sousuke's cock, swaying his hips more. The hybrid bared his teeth again, and gently pressed it onto his owner's arm, carefully chewing the skin, not breaking it like a baby suckling on a bottle feeder.
The (h/c) came, rolling his eyes as he squirted from both ends, staining the sheets and making cum drip onto Sousuke's crotch from his ass. His ears flickering as he does so. Sousuke began to fuck himself into the dog, pounding his hips again as he pressed his tip into the dog's prostate. (m/n)'s drooling tip dragging against the messy sheets.
After cumming for the nth time, Sousuke found himself passed out in the guest bedroom, (m/n) snuggling under his arm, his face stuck in his armpit, smelling his mild scent. The redhead left him after cleaning the mess, not daring to face his pet after having sex with him.
(m/n) was confused, his ears flopping against his head as he barked to get Sousuke's attention. His owner had just warmed up to him but now he's cold again. It wasn't until the week after that the redhead began to pay attention to his adorable golden boy again.
The (h/c) was sneaky, grinding behind Sousuke, rutting his crotch against his owner's hips. The redhead glared at him while he was busy going through his files in his bookshelf. Wordlessly, he held out a hand in front of (m/n)'s crotch who immediately dropped his pants and began to jerk his cock into his owner's hands until he stained the shelves.
Sousuke wouldn't properly fuck him, only letting him use his hands or his fingers to fill his hole. Not until one night that Sousuke got drunk, insisting that if they would have sex again, he would have to get drunk for this bullshit.
"I need a drink...I can't do this sober." Downing another glass, Sousuke couldn't fathom that he was developing a sexual bond with his pet. Either it was from the shock that was inhibiting him, or it was the attraction developing in his heart that made him hesitate.
Nonetheless, that didn't stop his dog from climbing into his lap, grinding on his bulge and licking all over his face. Sousuke ripped (m/n)'s pants and forced him to ride him for the rest of the night. He never got close to his neighbours for a good month but he did get to fuck a cute puppy for the rest of his life.
[END SCENE]
[LOADING SCENE...] DAISUKE YUICHI!
"A cat...for my birthday?"
Skimming over the papers, he looked up to his father's secretary who nodded at his question. His birthday had passed a week ago, and he had fun celebrating the date of his birth but he didn't expect his father to prepare a post-event gift.
On the tables were multiple papers with pictures of kittens, young hybrids. His dad wanted to buy a hybrid from a breeder. Daisuke managed to pause the brakes on that one. He requested an older cat, one that is around his age, not a kitten. He felt a bit guilty that the fact it was from a breeder but proceeded nonetheless.
When (m/n) had arrived, Daisuke was fascinated with his hairless ears, seeing the bare skin in contrast with his (h/c) hair. A sphynx breed, but almost as tall as he is. His tail was long and skinny, the ravenette mesmerized as he tried playing with the cat with toys he bought but was ignored.
Turns out, the cat disliked Daisuke as much to his dismay. He refused to even entertain his new owner. Hissing and scratching at him, even cowering at corners of the room, although Daisuke could clearly see his stature.
The ravenette thought the best action was to give him space, acting as if the cat didn't exist, letting (m/n) smell his hands. Regularly placing the treats near him. It was working, the (h/c) purring and perking up and staring at him whenever he walked into the room with starry eyes.
(m/n) was such a lazy cat however, only eating expensive treats, he ignored all store bought food whenever Daisuke randomly bought them in a rush. Daisuke was tired but amused seeing him laying lax around the modern couches. He was still picky with people though, not liking butlers and preferring his owner, that made Daisuke's heart melt even more.
It was swell until Daisuke left the balcony door open and he came home to find out (m/n) had ran away. Immediately deploying a cat hunt, he found his pet three miles away hissing at a poodle. He was crying and sobbing when he reunited with his cat and at home, he found out that the reason he had ran away was because it was mating season and the sphynx had gone into heat.
Deep purrs reverberated through the cat's throat as (m/n) climbed on the couch to nuzzle against Daisuke's chin, his naked tail swaying seductively behind him. The ravenette stared at him with a hesitant smile. "...I'm not a bottom..." He jokingly spoke.
It wasn't until (m/n) dropped down on his hands and knees and wiggled his ass to Daisuke's direction did his dick flinch and he realised (m/n) wasn't in the mood for jokes.
Moments had passed and clothes were tossed to the side, a naked Daisuke was huffing and shivering. His bare nipples twitching as the cat purred, perched in his lip. Trailing his fangs over his shoulder, (m/n) dragged his course tongue across his owner's neck, sucking on the skin roughly. His hands were Daisuke's pecs, kneading on the soft supple skin with his trimmed claws.
"F-Fucking hell..." The ravenette cursed as he pulled the (h/c) by his collar and bent him over the coffee table. Daisuke pulled out his heated penis from his pants and slipped it inside his pet without prepping him.
(m/n) mewled in pain, scratching at the coffee table as Daisuke leaned down, pressing against his back. "That's a good kitty..." He mumbled, licking (m/n)'s cat ears and biting on his nape.
Grinding his teeth against the loose skin, Daisuke blushed wildly, a horny smirk stretching on his face as he fucked his cock deep into the meowing cat. The (h/c) had his ears flopping against his hair, his tail coiling around Daisuke's thigh as he yelped every time his owner thrusted against his prostate.
(m/n) dug his claws into the table as he clenched around Daisuke's tip, spurting cum onto the white carpet. His owner not lasting any longer as he pounded his remaining cum inside his pet's throbbing hole.
The dynamic in their household changed, Daisuke lessening the amount of staffs inside his home. The ravenette would regularly entertain his cute kitty, sometimes he would trap his pet in his bedroom for his own pleasure. (m/n) was now the most valuable treasure in his home.
His toys were all thrown away and replaced with golden versions or by the least, his favourite play-string was a Swarovski necklace. (m/n) had his own bedroom with an extended catio that stretched out into the balcony.
Although no matter how much the bathroom was renovated, (m/n) still disliked bathing. And with how frequent their sexual encounters were, it was war everyday for Daisuke since he was his pet's favourite person. However, Daisuke would battle whenever and whoever if it meant getting to spend his time with his new spoiled pet.
[END SCENE]
Afterthoughts:
not my best work
Taglist:
@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat @m4r13ll @pinxeajin @gyarukitti @syyyy4ever @pato-spoiler-27 @citrusequalsfrogs @animefan106sposts @bensontrechic @partywalker @gaynesspersonified @yanrandom @theorye @jentlesoldier @apotatoishereee @blepp0c @g0ldencl0ver @mazunzunne @basketbaal
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hongjoongscafe · 9 months
Text
Peach.
One-Shot.
Pairing: professor!jungkookxcamgirl!reader.
Genre: smut, angst, fluff, forbidden au, uni au.
Summary: where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.
Word count: 15.4k+
Warnings: age gap (oc: 21, JK: 30), masturbation… lots of masturbation, sort of online bullying(?), kind of public masturbation, toys, name-calling, sir/daddy, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected sex (Namjoon will bonk your head if you don't use a contraceptive), spanking, spitting kink, cum eating, choking, overstimulation, a little bit of degradation, pussy spanking. (and that anime-ish picture has nothing to do with the fiction. Imagine the characters however you want!)
Masterpost
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“Oh fuck!” Jungkook's voice trembled as he palmed himself through his sweatpants. The thin shining layer of sweat made his face look sexier. His teeth were gritting and his eyes could barely focus on anything but the screen.
He had sworn to make himself wait until he could not wait anymore. He wanted to tease himself until he felt like bursting through his high. He wanted the pain of pleasure to run through his muscles and explode when it was too much to fill his body.
His ears were red from arousal and his veins were popping from lust.
He waited for a whole day to end just to tune into his favourite girl's livestream and tease himself as long as she teased herself.
Through his screen, he admired how her legs were wide open with a camera between them showing her gushing core. The livestream only started about five minutes ago. And he was already so ready to burst in his pants.
He was packing (giddily) to go back home after his day was over at the university to watch her, he was smiling widely. However, his smile dropped when he saw Mr Jameson (the director of the university) standing on the threshold of his office room.
“Mr Jeon, kindly visit conference hall 2 for a staff meeting in ten minutes.”
His lips frowned but nodded and sighed thinking that he probably wouldn't be able to make home soon enough to watch his MissPeach.
The meeting went longer as expected. It was nothing but about exchange students. Jungkook had ten exchange students in total and about three in each lecture he was assigned.
He made it home just in time. While he was juggling the key in the keyhole, he opened the stream and it was on its final countdown till the stream started. He sighed with relief and finally went inside and jumped on his bed, not bothering to turn on his lights. The burnt yellow guiding lights in the hallway and in his room were enough for him which turned on automatically when the sun kissed the ocean through his window and the night began to fall.
“Today, I thought I must not make you all wait,” Miss Peach's soft voice finally speaks. “So I’m going to skip teasing and just jump right into it,” she giggled when the chat went crazy with thank yous and asking for more or some who loved to get teased were upset but so ready to see.
Jungkook’s cock twitched after hearing her seductive yet innocent voice. She never showed her face but he knew she was smiling.
“I’m tired today, so I will use my sex machine instead. I hope it is alright,” she hummed.
Jungkook quickly tapped his screen with a frown of worry.
Bigdaddyj: Baby, it's alright. Relax and just let go, yeah? Don't worry<3 If someone has any problem, Daddy will handle —$200
The ping on Peach's side made her look at the chat. “Thank you, Daddy,” she chuckled. “You are always so generous.”
Jungkook could see her pussy throbbing as she said daddy. He bit his lip and saw a fake cock attached to a machine. Peach rubbed the lube all over it and aligned it with her pussy. She started it at a slow speed.
“Oh,” she gasped as it slowly started to push in. “This feels so good.”
He whimpered imagining his cock pushing into her pussy. Lowered his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock and squeezed the head, trying to feel how it would feel if he were that fake cock. His cock would look prettier and feel better than that thing. But at the same time, he wanted to suck that toy and lick all of her sweet juices, too.
“You fill me up so good,” she rasped. “Please fuck me,” Peach panted as she raised the power and the thrusts got faster and wetter.
“Fuck,” he couldn't control and gave in. His fist picked up the pace of the toy and looked at her pretty pussy swallowing the toy. Her sweet moans and whimpers only fueled his desire.
Not much later, he came all over himself, ruining his white shirt and black pants. But it was worth it.
“That was quick,” she giggled as she panted. Her pussy was red and swollen just how he loved it. “I hope you all came as well… tomorrow I was wondering if we could do qna type of thing? Not the usual stream but just something. I kinda wanna talk. I don't get to do that enough so…”
Jungkook was quick to reply.
Bigdaddyj: aw Peaches I would love to talk to you, baby girl. It will be fun. ^^ –$300
Reading the chat he sent, she hummed cosily. “You think so, daddy? I'm glad. I'll be seeing you all tomorrow then.”
With that, the stream ended and Jungkook slumped against the headrest.
Jungkook used to share a staff flat on campus with two other professors. It was going fine until he found MissPeach. Watching her was becoming a huge task with the other two men in that small flat. It was always obvious whenever he would jerk off.
On many occasions, his roommates would catch him after looking at his flushed face after one of his “sessions”. They said that his face could never hide the fact that he just jerked.
He started to wear makeup but it was frustrating and ended up moving out and eventually purchasing his own apartment off campus. It was rather convenient.
His obsession, however, grew ridiculously embarrassing. And having his own apartment helped him live it. Whenever MissPeach would go live, he would watch without caring about someone disturbing or making fun of him.
Sometimes he felt utterly embarrassed whenever he sat in front of his gigantic TV in his living room with a football game, his one hand holding his mobile with MissPeach's livestream on it and the other hand wrapped around his aching cock. He couldn't miss either.
It all worked out for him.
The next morning, Jungkook walked into his lecture hall dressed in a black shirt and black pants, his feet clad in the infamous black boots that made him look professional at the same time a character out of a dark romance book.
“Good morning, class. I hope you all had a long night. I have a job for you all,” he cleared his throat. “I'll be handing you guys a worksheet. You have this whole lecture which is sixty minutes. Take help from your sources and complete it. It's been one month and four more to go. So I want you all to revise what we did this month. I think there is no better way than this. What do we say? Do we agree?” he asked with his bubbly smile that he knew no one could resist.
The students agreed. Soon enough, everyone had two sets of five-page-long worksheets on their desks. In this specific batch, he taught biology. But he had chemistry as well.
You loved biology. And even more now because Jungkook was your professor. You were an exchange student and joined this semester.
On your first day, when he walked into the class, you were positive that he was one of the students but when he stood behind the teacher's desk and started his lecture, your jaw was barely holding up. He looked ripped and broad. The buttons on his shirt were fighting against the monstrosity of his chest. You swore you saw his nipples poke through his shirt at some point.
Even now, when you are sitting in your seat you can't help but look up and steal some glances towards him. He was sitting on his chair, reading something on his laptop with his glasses perched up.
You felt your pussy tingling. Since the first day, you have been masturbating to him. But your pussy just wanted his finger, mouth, and cock.
He never noticed you. You preferred to stay at the corner at the back and just exist. Socializing was not your forte. You had one too many insecurities to even say hi to someone. Even when some of the girls approached you for you to join them around, you always politely declined.
And the rest were not as nice. The thing was that you were a scholarship student at a private university. You barely afford to live. And the others barely kept money in their banks but still had too much money. They were everything you could never be and sometimes they took it as an advantage.
So you preferred to stay away and not get involved with anyone.
You were focusing on your worksheet when Jungkook’s chair screeched against the floor, looking up, you saw him slowly walking around and inspecting if someone needed help. So far, it was not bad. He had taught everything perfectly.
You focused back on your work. You could hear his footsteps. Here and there, the girls asked him some silly questions. You wanted to ask, too. But your confidence was a bit above -200.
So no, you weren't going to ask.
Soon enough, the musky scent invaded your senses as Jungkook was closer to you. He stood by you and looked at your work. You hid your hands under the desk to hide the trembling. It was the first time that you saw him up close. He never took a round, most probably because it was never needed. On the other hand, there weren't any emergencies or something that would make you knock on his office door.
Your eyes met with his as he asked “Miss Park, do you need any help?”
You shook your head, not trusting your voice.
“As expected,” he smiled. He fucking smiled at you. You bit back a silly smile, cleared your throat and looked down.
He moved along and you finally took a breath. He is rather enchanting and you just couldn't rebel.
How could you? That big Professor was a god himself.
“After you are done, you can hand your sheets to me and leave,” he said and took his seat.
You had completed the worksheet about twenty minutes earlier but there was no way you were going to get up and attract any attention. So you started to go through Chemistry.
Chemistry was not your best subject but it meant another hour in Jungkook’s class.
Your concentration enveloped you and made you lose the passage of time. You slightly flinched as Jungkook called your name.
“Miss Park, it has been ten minutes since the lecture got over. You can take the worksheet home if you want and submit it tomorrow if you are finding it hard. Or I can help if you want,” Jungkook offered.
You looked around the empty class and back at your professor. “Ah,” you nervously chuckled and started collecting your stuff. “It is all done,” you said in a small voice and finally gathered everything.
You walked towards him and handed him the sheets. Awkwardly, you bowed and stepped away. However, Jungkook stopped you.
“Miss Park, please write your name and ID number over here, please,” he smiled… again.
You could feel your ears heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry,” you whispered.
“It’s alright!” as you were writing your name and ID number on your sheets, Jungkook took notice of your hands. They looked familiar. Way too familiar.
The images of his MissPeach flashed in front of his eyes. That glistening, pink pussy. His cock twitched in his pants. He shook his head to get the images out. “There are many similar hands, JK!” He scolded himself.
“How are you keeping up, here?” Jungkook asked to distract himself.
You slid the now-named sheets back to him. “Um, it's nice here.”
Jungkook’s eyes twitched at the familiarity of your voice as well. “That’s good. If you ever have any problem, you can come to me. We have two classes so feel free to reach out. You are already so far away from your home so don’t hesitate to ask for help.”
You looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” with that, you finally left with a racing heart and wet panties.
Jungkook looked at the closed door. “Ah, I should stop watching her. She is messing up my brain. Y/n can't be her. She is too innocent for that… right?”
But who was he kidding, he was obsessed with MissPeach.
You felt embarrassed when you walked out. His mere smile and thick voice made your pussy clench around nothing and your panties wet. You could feel the wetness on your thighs.
He had an effect on you more than your body could handle without making you feel like his whore.
But you knew he would never look at you the way you wanted him to. To begin with, you were his student and if there was any chance that he would get involved with one, that certainly wouldn't be you.
There were many painfully beautiful girls around you who had maintained themselves like Queens. They had proper skin care, a pretty makeup routine before they came to university and a relaxing night routine. Whereas you, you splashed your face with water and soap and slapped basic cheap face cream on your face.
Most of your money from your “job” was sent to your parents and for your apartment rent. And not to mention, that where you came for an exchange programme, even farting costs money.
Sighing, you walked through the crowd of students and looked around. Everyone was busy with their stuff. In the canteen, groups of friends were sitting and enjoying the food. You brought your own meal but today you were running late and packed nothing. So you walked towards the cheapest of the options, a vending machine.
You bought some rice balls and a can of Sprite. Quickly, you left the canteen and sat on the empty staircase which rarely anyone visited which led to the abandoned old green room.
It didn't take time for you to finish your food. The thought of your hot, ripped professor was still fogging up your mind and probably the sane side of your brain, too. And the more it did, the more your panties became wet.
The image of his beautiful long fingers teased you. You wondered how his tattooed fingers would look while playing with your pussy. Oh, you just wanted just that.
His lip ring was the end of you. You wanted to sit on his face and feel the piercing over your pussy. You always paid attention to when he played with his lip ring with his tongue and just wanted to know how it would feel teasing your clit.
You couldn't take it anymore so you opened the secret pocket of your bad and took out a tiny bullet vibrator that you carried after realizing that Mr Jeon was a sexy man that you just wanted fuck.
Looking around the empty staircase and hallway above, you opened the button of your pants and slipped your hand inside your panties. You positioned the toy over your clit and buttoned up your pants back on.
From your mobile, you turned it on. The low vibrations of the toy shivered you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the railing, slowly turning up the power.
It was a perfect gift from one of your viewers who watched almost every stream, Bigdaddyj. You loved this toy the most. It didn't make any noises and was easy to carry around in your bag… or inside your panties.
Soon the vibrations got stronger, leaving your mouth wide open. Your hips thrust in the air and your legs trembled.
A strangled moan forced out so you slapped your hand over your mouth to make no noises. You imagined Jungkook between your legs fingering your hole and sucking on your clit. Thinking of him humming and moaning on your pussy sent you to the edge.
Not so long after, your body seized up and climaxed.
You whimpered at the sensitivity and turned off the toy. It was hard to bring your breath to normal but you somehow managed and stood up yet again questioning your existence.
“So I see many of you tuned into this live… I was not expecting this,” you giggled looking at the viewer bar. There were about one thousand viewers. They could only see your boobs clad in a black satin tank top. “Shall we start with the QnA?”
Jungkook was lounging on his sofa with a glass of whiskey. He looked at MissPeach’s boobs. He just wanted to squeeze them and pamper them with kisses and just… keep on worshipping her.
Bigdaddyj: You look fabulous, pretty. How was your day?
You looked at the chat, it wasn't as crazy as when you bare your boobs and pussy. Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of your regular who insisted you call him daddy. “Thank you, Daddy! I'm fine, just a bit tired. It was a long day,” you hummed.
Bigdaddyj: Aw, baby. You should rest. Drink something warm and sleep.”
You smiled at his chat. Playing with the top of your tank top, you replied, “I will. But I have some other things to do and study for a bit.”
Jungkook watched MissPeach play with the top. He couldn't help but pay close attention to the hands. They were similar, he was sure of that. However, he shook his head and paid attention to MissPeach’s chat.
Cummingdick: show face
Natehell: Do you meet in private?
She answered that question, “No, I don't meet in private.”
Then Jungkook asked the question that had been bugging him all-day.
Bigdaddyj: Baby, yesterday you said that you don't get to talk a lot. What is that? Do your friends don't listen to you?
You looked at the question. Your smile faded, lucky you never showed your face. What were you supposed to answer? But it was Daddy who asked it so you had to answer.
“Well, I'm not a very social person. Plus I moved to a different country recently. So I don't have friends here. I prefer staying by myself anyway. It works for me!” you tried to be enthusiastic.
Patrick: show tits, bitch
Fuckboi2000: it's always the quiet ones who whore around
Lovethatpus: I thought you had fucked the whole campus
Jungkook didn't feel good. He heard that strained voice and could tell it was deeper than that. He felt rage reading mindless chat, on top of that. He always saw that innocence in her. Even though she was a camgirl, her demeanour reflected the innocence that he wanted to protect.
Bigdaddyj: it's alright, baby. Try to get along slowly. I'm sure you will make a good friend. Don't be alone, my darling.
The chat from Bigdaddyj brought a smile to your face. Where everyone was requesting you to remove your top and spread your legs, he was making sure you felt heard.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Daddy.”
The chat progressively got disappointing and soon turned into a mess. The viewers dropped down when you didn't remove any clothes.
There weren't many questions, in fact, nobody asked a proper question except Bigdaddyj.
Cummingdick: this sucks
Fuckboi2000: Man, you wasted my time, you fucking stupid cunt.
Ridemycock: never turn up if you not gonna show that pussy
Hideme: You're not as interesting as your pussy
Lovethatpus: No wonder why you don't have friends, bitch. Other than your pussy and tits, you are fucking boring
Boobieman: I would just use you and throw you. Boring ass bitch
You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't have done this. What did you even expect? Talking on a porn website? You shook your head and just looked at the chat, not answering any questions.
Soon, there was only one viewer left. And you were certain who he was.
“Daddy?” you called in a low, soft voice.
Jungkook's eyes widened when MissPeach called him. He wasn't expecting her to know that he was still tuned in. Half of him was burning with rage because of those stupid assholes who had to degrade you instead of going somewhere else.
He quickly typed.
Bigdaddyj: yes, baby?
“Do you wanna know a secret?” she hummed.
Bigdaddyj: yes, of course, baby. What is it?
You didn't say something for a few seconds and then stood up. Taking a tissue next to you, you poured some micellar water on it. “Look here, okay?” you said and took a deep breath.
Jungkook typed a yes and looked where she had lowered her pyjama shorts, brought the tissue and pressed for a few. It was above her hip bone on the left side.
Slowly, the tissue swapped and showed a tiny coloured tattoo. It was a cute little pastel pink peach.
Jungkook's mouth parted and looked at the tattoo. He felt his cock twitch in his sweats.
“I got this when I turned nineteen. But I always hid it. It's tiny but I always feel like not wanting to show this to anyone. But I only put on concealer whenever I come live or when I wear cropped tops or something like that,” MissPeach said.
Again, Jungkook’s fingers tapped across the keyboard.
Bigdaddyj: That has to be the most adorable tattoo I've ever seen, baby. I wanna kiss it.
A soft giggle left her. “You can kiss it, Daddy.”
Jungkook smiled.
Bigdaddyj: Tell me, pretty. What other secrets are you hiding?
She sat down again. Her delicate fingers tapped the tabletop. “There are some secrets that I have that no one knows. Will you keep them as secrets if I tell you them?”
Jungkook didn't need to think at all.
Bigdaddyj: Of course, baby. I'll keep them for you.
At this point, Jungkook just wanted her to talk about things that she couldn't talk about or didn't have a friend to talk to. He loved this. Just talking and existing at the same time.
He knew he was fucked. How could he get attached to a faceless person like this?
“I used one of your toys today…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “At university at lunchtime.”
Jungkook’s cock hardened right away. She used his toy at her university.
“And you know what's worse? I've been taking it every day with me and using it often at the university. I keep it in my secret pocket in the bag. I always feel dirty using it,” she confessed.
“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed.
Bigdaddyj: You always feel that horny, baby? What do you think about when you use it?
She paused for a moment, “will you be angry if I tell you the truth?”
He frowned. “So not me,” he mumbled. “Why would she? She has never seen me before.”
Bigdaddyj: Not at all, pretty.
“Hm… I always think about my professor,” she revealed.
“Fuck me,” Jungkook moaned. Even though it wasn't him, the thought of her masturbating to a professor made his cock harder.
Bigdaddyj: You are one nasty little girl, baby.
“I can't help it, Daddy. I really can't.”
Your morning class was supposed to be Chemistry but Jungkook couldn't show up for the lecture. Instead, he sent the worksheet to the students through an adjusted professor.
The instructions were similar to what they were for biology. However, this was not easy for you.
It took ten extra brain cells to solve one damn equation. There was no way you were going to get this worksheet done in time. You scolded yourself in your mind for taking this ungodly subject just to spend one more hour with Jungkook who truly never noticed you.
Later in the day, it was your Biology lecture. And to your luck, Jungkook was present in this class and had brought back the worksheets with him.
“You all did an excellent job with this worksheet,” he said as he stood up and smiled at all. Oh, that fucking killer smile that you wanted to eat up. “However, there was one person who did an exceptionally great job!”
His eyes roamed around and stopped at you. “Miss Park,” he called, making your breath stop. “Not a single mistake. Everything was written so beautifully and accurately. I'm impressed by your work. That one diagram was drawn with perfection even in a limited time. And all those diagram with other processes were great addition. One could tell you know what you are doing. Keep working like this,” he gave you a toothy smile and thumbs up.
Your cheeks turned into rosy red. Not trusting your voice, you quickly bowed to him from your seat and gave him an awkward smile.
The lecture passed by with him starting a new chapter and passing on the introduction of sub-topics to make everything easier when studied in detail— one of his tricks for learning that was your favourite.
As the lecture ended, everybody started to leave and you were packing up as well. It was only 2:00 PM and you were planning to go back to your apartment.
“Miss Park,” Jungkook called your attention. “Do you have time for a moment? I've something to discuss.”
You nodded.
Soon, you found yourself sitting in front of your professor. The same one who made you masturbate in public and that you confessed to a stranger who watched your stream regularly.
“Miss Park, you did an outstanding job in Biology. I'm impressed, actually. When I was handed your performance chart from your university, I knew I didn't need to be worried about you. No one gets into this university without any reason. It's harder. You either need too much brain or too much money,” he said. “I was actually quite eager to go through your Chemistry worksheet.”
You dug your nails into your palm, knowing well that you had disappointed him.
“I can see that Chemistry is difficult for you. Or if I rephrase it, you are thinking that it is difficult for you,” he pulled out the worksheet. “You haven't answered all the questions and there are some mistakes. From the look of it, it seems you have a problem with your basics. I'm pretty sure it will be all right once the lab starts but I think it would be much helpful if you understand things in theory better.”
You fumbled with your fingers and avoided his eyes. Your body was tense and he could see right through it.
Jungkook removed his glasses, “Miss Park, May I ask why you opted for this subject? I see you only had Biology before. Why the sudden addition of Chemistry?”
Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke up. “I'm sorry, Mr Jeon. I didn't mean to disappoint you in any way… I just took chemistry for extra credits.”
You lied. Oh, you fucking lied to your professor and you wanted to run away. Lying to him hurts you more than it should have.
Jungkook chuckled, “I’m not disappointed in you, Miss Park. I think with a little extra attention, you will be able to perform just as well as you do in Biology.”
You looked into his twinkling eyes. “I-I’m not sure if I can be that good in Chemistry. It's- it’s stupid, I should probably get it crossed. I think I still have time for that. Yeah, that, I'll do that,” the panic settled in.
Jungkook looked at you and found you a fragile little thing. He had never paid much attention to you knowing you were all good in your studies.
But right now, he wished he did.
You were a simple girl with a straightforward goal. He never saw you messing around or heard any gossip about you other than that you do not get mixed up well with others. Considering the fact that you had just moved out and still settling in, it was normal for not mixing up. It takes time.
“Miss Park,” Jungkook leaned in and patted your shoulder. “You don't need to panic. How about we try solving this problem for a couple of weeks and then see if you get any better, hm?
You sat frozen in your seat and just took in the feeling of his hand on your shoulder trying to calm you down. “What if I don't?”
Jungkook smiled, retrieving his hand and making you want more. “Then you can get it cancelled from your major.”
You nervously asked, “When can we start?”
“If you don't have any other class for the day, we can start right now! Do you have any classes?” you shook your head. “Alright, follow me to my office, Miss Park.”
Almost an hour since Jungkook has been focused on you. He was damn sure that your hands and voice were similar to MissPeach. He has been watching her for a month and he knows her perfectly. Her moans, whimpers, begging, sniffles, everything to the point she showed or let him see, he noticed.
However, he couldn't risk any false situations.
The picture of the peach tattoo flashed in front of his eyes. How MissPeach confessed to masturbating in university and that too while thinking about a professor… right into feeding his fantasies.
Not that he dreamt of that before but since MissPeach and you blocked his mind, he couldn't help but want this to happen. As forbidden as it was, you were a fully grown adult.
His pants started to tighten, his cock begging for a touch. But he pushed the need behind his head. He shouldn't think such filthy things while you are struggling to solve the equation in front of him.
He loved how your bangs caressed your soft cheeks. He wanted to caress your forehead to get rid of the tension lines you got while concentrating. He loved it when your nose scrunched up whenever you got stuck on a specifically harder equation.
He wondered why you had tiredness kissing your face. He hated that and wanted to take you in his arms and hum you to sleep in his lap.
Oh! He would do anything just to free your lower lip from the confines of your teeth and caress it with his thumb… kiss it with his lips and taste your pretty mouth.
His eyes widened at his wild thoughts. Fuck. He thought.
But something in his mind said that he needed to know if you were MissPeach or not.
Tattoo… he needed to keep an eye for it. She herself said that she always hid it whenever she came live or when she wore something like cropped tops.
It was the fifth day of the extra classes. You were waiting for Jungkook in his office with your notebook and textbook out as commanded by him. He informed you earlier that in this extra class, you will be joined by someone. You had no idea who this person was.
After about five minutes, the door opened. Along with Jungkook, another girl walked in. Margot.
There was nothing good about her. At least when it came to you, it wasn't. She was the only daughter of a realtor father and an advocate mother. Her nose was always high in the sky and her eyes looked down on people like you.
For her, you were not worth the hassle.
“Miss Park, Miss Bell was having trouble with the topic we are going to cover today. So I thought maybe we could work on it together!” Jungkook said as he took his seat in front of you and Margot on your left.
You nodded.
“Oh, well… I would have preferred this to be a private session, Mr Jeon. You know, it's better with personal attention and not,” Margot looked at you with a side eye, “share it with a scholar.” She spat the word scholar as if it were a pesticide.
Her voice was animatedly high-pitched and it annoyed you to no end.
“Really? I don't think so. Instead, I think that this is better. If you have any doubts, it can help Miss Park as well. And if Miss Park has any doubts, it can help you. Knowledge is never private, Miss Bell,” Jungkook sweetly said. You admired his thinking. He wasn't only hot and intelligent but also highly respectful as well. “Now without wasting time, let's start, shall we?”
It was only fifteen minutes in when Margot started to shit from her mouth.
“Mr Jeon, are you single?” she asked.
Jungkook looked up from his laptop and lowered his glasses. “Why do you ask?”
“You don't look single. There must be someone just as hot as you that you are dating,” your eyes widened at her choice of words.
Jungkook chuckled. “No, Miss Bell. I'm single.” His eyes stole glances at your face. You were buried in your book but he knew you were listening.
“Such a waste of hotness,” Margot tsked. “I think you deserve someone with pretty eyes, a sharp face and an intelligent mind, and money as well— ‘cause you know, there are many who would anything for money if they don't have it themselves! I'm sure you will go for someone who looks like a princess. With dusty blond hair,” At this point, she was just pointing out her own features.
“Miss Bell, I don't think you should be discussing such stuff. Plus, Miss Park must be getting disturbed,” his reply made your butterflies jump.
“Who cares? This is not all, you know? A girl must keep herself up to standards. No one will look at her if she keeps on being like this. A girl must wear good clothes, wear shoes that have solid soles and not hang by a single thread. Get a proper manicure done. Have some sense and class with good brands. And knows how to properly use make-up and not just use some cheap ass shit that cakes up,” you fisted your hands to hide your chipped nail paint as you felt the redness and shame crawling up your neck.
“Stop, Miss Bell! Thi–”
“I- I need to go,” you interrupted Jungkook and stood up. You messily collected your books and ran out without even putting them in your bag. You felt suffocated.
Jungkook could never be yours. You had nothing. You were average-looking, had no money to buy big brands, and had the most average life. and not to mention how you chose to bare yourself on the internet in front of strangers for money instead of going for an actual job.
You had nothing against people who did this with choice but you had never been this open-minded about it. Hell, you were still a virgin.
Long ago, your parents had a small business which earned enough for a healthy living. But because of your father's sudden illness, everything went to nothing. To pay the bills, your parents had to sell almost everything little by little and in that, the business went crashing. They sold the house and moved into a smaller house. It was still expensive. Hospital bills were stacking up. Most of your money went into that. It wasn't your choice to move away and stay like this. But desperate times bring desperate measures.
Why would Jungkook like you when you had too much shit to handle? He would probably walk away. Would he even look at you like you wanted? Never. You were his student, a twenty-one years old but still a student. While he was thirty years old successful professor.
It has been a week since MissPeach last came live.
You were kind of not feeling going on live after your qna. People, other than Daddy, made you feel like a worthless object that deserved nothing but to bare herself for the world to see. They had forgotten that there was an actual person with a heart that gets hurt as well.
So when you went live without any previous notice, you preferred to not talk at all and just release your stress. Plus you needed money to send it to your parents.
After coming back from your extra class with Jungkook, you could feel your arousal running down your thighs. Even though you weren't feeling good, your pussy had its own mind.
You were going to take care of your problem in private but you needed that money.
When the notification popped on Jungkook's phone, he quickly turned off the heat under the pasta and sat on the couch. He wasn't expecting you to go live but it was more than fine. He gets to talk to you.
The live started. You were sitting on your chair, wearing your underwear. A pastel blue set. Jungkook was quick to type the compliment and donate some money.
Bigdaddyj: My pretty baby looks so beautiful as always <3 –$300
He waited for you to say something but it never came. It was odd, you always replied to him.
You didn't say hi or ask how everyone's day was. Nothing.
Bigdaddyj: Baby? Everything alright?
You leaned back and sighed. Hooking up your thumbs with the corner of your panties, you removed them showing glistening folds.
Cummingdick: thank fuck this slut decided to show some pussy.
Randomdude: wanna fuck that hole so fucking bad💦
You slid your hand between your legs and teased your folds, not touching where you needed them the most. The slick was dripping down on your bed.
A blissful sigh escaped your throat when your cold fingers finally touched your throbbing clit. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was your way to make him know that you acknowledge him and him only.
Jungkook’s cock hardened embarrassingly quickly. He knew something was not right and that MissPeach was feeling off but now when she moaned what she called him, he couldn't resist. He was sure that she was thinking of that professor but fuck he would be lying if that didn't just make him want to be delulu.
You picked up a lipstick and opened it. Dropping the cap, you picked another big blush brush with a metallic multi-coloured stick.
You pressed the button at the bottom of the lipstick and it started to buzz. Bringing it down to your clit, you gasped and moaned lewdly when the high vibrations buzzed through your veins.
“Oh my god, fuck,” you moaned.
Jungkook took out his cock from his sweatpants and stroked himself. This was one of his favourite toys that you owned paired with the brush wand in your hand. He always complimented her about it.
Bigdaddyj: Such a good girl, you are. Using Daddy's favourite toys. Hm? –$500
The ting of the donation made you look at the screen and made you moan knowing it was from Daddy. You turned on the brush and teased your hole with it. The double vibrations left you with your mouth wide open in a silent scream.
Slowly, you pushed the brush inside you. “Ah, Daddy please fuck me!” you screamed.
You closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook. He has been leaving subtle touches– not sexual. But they were enough for your weaker self.
You imagined his fingers rubbing your clit, spitting on it as his cock plunged into your filthy cunt. The vibrations against your G-spot made you see the stars.
It was embarrassing to admit that you had seen his huge bulge in the classroom sometimes.
You imagined how his hot cock would feel in your pussy as you rode him while his hands played with your tits, pinching your sensitive nipples. You just wanted him to wrap his hands around your throat and choke you as you lay under him with your knees touching your chin.
The overwhelming feeling of vibration from both the toys and the image of Jungkook ruining your cunt.
Jungkook matched the pace of your hand thrusting the damn thing in your swollen pussy. He was so close.
He had never seen MissPeach so out of it. He loved it.
His balls tightened, ready to burst anytime. Soon enough, his cock twitched and he emptied himself all over his white shirt when you moaned out loud and squirted. The brush slipped out of your cunt.
You dropped the lipstick thing and slapped your pussy as you squirted more and more with the image of Jungkook between your legs, lapping up your juices like the gentleman he is.
Your eyes and breath took time to adjust and when you felt normal, you turned off the live and sat there thinking about what just happened just like Jungkook who was hard again after seeing you squirt like a broken faucet.
You had never squirted in your whole life.
There was complete silence in Jungkook’s office. You were sitting in front of him, working on some theory. Your concentration was strong and you grasped everything perfectly.
Everything about you was quiet. You walked quietly, talked quietly, and even your breath was quiet. Not a single noise that you have ever made. However, you were even quieter after that class with Margot and that didn't slip from Jungkook’s attention.
Whenever you had any doubts, you would just slide your notebook or textbook across the table with a circle around the doubt.
He missed your voice.
Subconsciously, he noticed everything about you. You never talked to anybody. Never hung out in the canteen. Heck, he didn't even see you outside of these classes. It was as if you vanish after classes and only appear in the class.
Considering your age, he expected to catch you with a boy or a girl here and there. He had caught almost the rest of the students in such a compromising state. And he wasn't too old himself, just thirty years old, he knew what this generation's needs were.
He was, to say the least, concerned about you.
“Miss Park?” He called.
You looked up from your book and waited for him to continue. “I know it might come out as inappropriate but I couldn't help but notice how you are always on your own. Like, I've never seen you with someone else before and never outside of the classes. Is everything alright?”
You were wondering why he was suddenly interested in your pathetic life. “I don't think I get along well,” you whispered, thinking it should be enough and focused back on the book.
“Why not? You are smart and intelligent. I'm sure there are many who would want to be friends with you,” he said with enthusiasm to encourage her to have friends.
You just looked up at him again and shook your head and looked down again.
“That’s not the spirit, Miss Park. Trust me, friends come a long way. I have my childhood friends and other friends still in contact. Any need? They are right there for me,” he tried to reason.
You sighed, “Mr Jeon, I'm happy that you have such friends. But it's not everyone's thing. Not everybody is able to make friends. Sometimes it's better to be just… left alone. I would rather focus on studies, pass, and get out of here. I have no time for anything else.”
There were unspoken words left. Jungkook wanted to hear those. But he didn't press you much. He could see the wave of sadness that shifted on your face. He hated it.
He still blames himself for bringing Margot with him to the class. There was too much that these rich students (of course, not all but some) didn't understand. And he could see the maturity that you attained. He knew things were much deeper than mere relatability.
“Do you bring your lunch from home, Miss Park?” he abruptly asked.
You frowned but nodded.
“Did you bring it today as well?”
You nodded, again.
“Great! You should eat here. With me. I made some Jjajangmyeon and was wondering if I could have some company during lunch. It doesn't feel right without sharing… you can share your lunch with me!” he smiled, closed his laptop and placed the book he was going through away.
“I don't think you would want to have my lunch,” you nervously whispered.
“Oh, hush! Now pack up, it's lunchtime!”
Not even five minutes later, there were two bowls with noodles in it. Jungkook started to mix his bowl and pointed his eyes at yours with a smile, asking you to eat as well.
Jungkook had happily taken half of your sad American cheese sandwich and ate it with a huge smile. He had said that it was really good and you didn't believe him at all. But his following lines almost made you cry. They were— “You know, Miss Park, I always love food. It could be as simple as bread and butter or as complex as Korean BBQ. In the end, it's food. Not everyone gets to eat it. So I'm thankful for what I have and what I eat. No one should be ashamed of what they eat. As long as it fills up your stomach, it is good.”
This only added another reason why you loved hi–
Loved?
The moment you and Jungkook stepped into the library, he kept his eyes on you while you tried to find a specific book for your extra class.
Ever since he started giving you extra classes, he has paid more attention to you. And not from an academic perspective but as in you. He was hurt, to say the least.
You were alone. And he saw that right through your eyes.
Being away from one's home country and staying with ruthless rich young adults was not something as pleasant for someone from the working class. He felt for you. No details were needed to know that these people must have made your time here harder.
Since Margot, he had seen an utter decline in your health as well. Even in the stream, he noticed how your body had gone thinner.
Yes, he was certain that it was you, the MissPeach. But still, the odds were there.
After that lunch from yesterday, he had been thinking about you without any break. He couldn't even set the worksheet for juniors just because he was consumed by you. He kept seeing your tired eyes and the dark circles that stuck to them.
It took all the will to keep his fingers from caressing them and kissing them away. A strange wish to protect you and keep you arose within him that he never felt before.
It shook him, how much he had grown to care for you in just two weeks. He was afraid that you might break down at any moment.
You were this fragile little doll and yet so strong. He admired you. You were everything he ever wanted… scratch that, you were more than what he ever wanted. It was like he asked for an Apple but he got a basket full of apples with an apple pie. And love beside it.
Jungkook kept looking at you from where he was standing and smiled as you looked through the shelves of books to find what you needed. The tiny scrunching nose and your baby hair falling over your face… just adorable. He wished he could thread his fingers through them and tuck them behind your ears as his fingers brushed your nape, raising your goosebumps.
He smiled when he saw your eyes light up after you spotted the book you were finding. It was way above the shelf and you tried to reach it.
You looked too good to be true.
You tried reaching it with your right hand, and when failed, you switched to your left. As if that arm was longer than the other.
Jungkook chuckled and took one step to help you but instead, he froze in his place. His eyes wandered down and stopped at the naked skin just above your left hip. There it was. The pretty peachy peach sitting on your skin, taunting him.
His heart stopped for a moment and then ran faster like the wind in the thunderstorm.
Something feral ticked inside his guts.
You tried to reach for the book but it was too far up. Just as you were about to turn around and fetch the stool, a warm body pressed against your back and a hand rested on your covered right side. You didn't need to know who it was… that musky earthy scent was enough to make your heart beat like crazy knowing it was Jungkook.
You dumbly looked at his hand slowly grabbing the book and bringing it down to you. His hot breath fanned against your ear and his lips brushed against the shell of it.
And then he said in a deadly deep, low, and raspy voice, “I think, next time, you need to be more careful with your tattoo… MissPeach.”
The book dropped on the ground. Your eyes widened and your mouth parted open. Daddy. No one but Daddy knows.
Millions of haunting thoughts swirled in your head making you feel lightheaded. You were sure he was going to expose you and get you expelled.
“Meet me in my office, Miss Park,” he said and lightly kissed your ear. “Right now.”
The coldest warmth disappeared. So did your last brain cell.
You were doomed.
When you knocked on the door to the office, your soul almost left your body, trying to free itself from the humiliation.
The ever-soft “come in” made you realize that there was no going back. You fucked up.
How could he be Bigdaddyj? That shocked you to no end. You shouldn't have revealed that fucking tattoo of yours that night. But you felt a need to share at least one thing with that faceless stranger to feel something. To feel like you, too, had someone who knows your dirty secrets. Oh! The worst of all… the confession about masturbation.
Talk about sharing secrets. You scoffed at yourself.
Hesitantly, you opened the door and entered the room without looking up. You shut the door behind you extra tightly, making sure no one on the other side could hear anything. Unless they stuck their ears to the door.
Your body trembled as you stepped in front of his desk and stood there like a shivering statue. The inner screaming made you restless. This was too embarrassing to handle.
Your professor whom you have been crushing over since day one has seen you masturbate on the internet and the worst part is, he donated you good money as well.
He was going to ask for money, wasn't he? You cringed at yourself. How were you going to repay?
“Miss Park, I guess we both know what we are going to… discuss,” he started. You nodded. “Words… Miss Park.”
“Yes, Mr Jeon,” you whispered.
Jungkook stood up from his chair, “We had a nice talk in that stream, didn't we?”
The tears pricked your eyes so you kept your head down, keeping the sight of your face away from his expensive eyes.
He slowly walked around the table and stood behind you, caging you with his arms around you and placing his hands flat on the table. “It’s interesting, you know? To know that one of my students is a camgirl,” he whispered in your ear. “Do you want me to keep this dirty little secret for you, too?”
You nodded to you a few times, praying so that he could indeed keep this a secret. “Please,” you whispered in a weak tone.
“Hmm… but I want to know one thing in return, MissPeach…” his chest plastered with your back.
“Tell me one thing. Who is that professor whose thoughts make you wet, hm?” his jealousy made his brain fog up and let it out on you. “The one who gets you so fucking horny that you play with that pretty pussy in university with the toy that I sent you. Who is he? Is it Jimin? Or Namjoom? It has to be Namjoon. Big, ripped. He is the definition of hotness. I'm sure you imagine him licking your pretty pussy,” you couldn't imagine yourself. You felt dirty thinking about the image he was pasting. The only time you didn't feel dirty was when you imagined Jungkook and only Jungkook. The idea of being with any other professor made you cringe harder.
The more he talked about you being with some other person, the more tears dropped down your cheeks. You didn't want to admit that it was him. You promised yourself that you would let him paint whatever picture he wanted and never tell him the truth.
“Imaging his dick in your pussy? Isn't it? You would love that, wouldn't you? Having Namjoon’s dick in you and just ju—”
“You!” you screeched when he didn't stop. Into the well went the promise. It was too hard to listen to him.
Jungkook went rigid, “what?”
Your body trembled violently, “it’s you that I think about!” you let it out as your voice cracked.
“Y/n,” you felt his hands on your arms turning you around to face him. “Look me in the eyes, please.”
You looked up and he felt his heart break. Your face was red with tears running down. “Please, Mr Jeon. I beg you to keep this a secret, please! I will do anything you want. I-I’ll do better at Chemistry. But keep this to yourself. I can't– I can't afford to get kicked out. Everything will get ruined. Please n—”
Your words died when your face squished against his warm and hard chest. His one hand threaded through your hair and the other one rubbed your back.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered. “I won't ever tell this to anyone, baby. There is nothing wrong. I may have– no… I definitely let my jealousy take over and act like an idiot. You have done absolutely nothing wrong.”
Your eyes were wide open but they relaxed. Your shaky hands reluctantly circled around him and hugged him back. You felt warm. Not only on the outside but inside as well. The ice of burden melted for a while with the warmth he gave you. His fingers caressing your scalp made your head feel better. His hand running along your spine calmed your inner screamings.
Strangely enough, he was all you needed at that moment.
You just wanted to melt into his warmth and become a part of him.
As ridiculous as it looked, it was magical. Healing even.
You felt his nose against your head and he sniffed before pulling himself away just a little to see your face.
Jungkook gently wiped your cheeks and tucked your loose locks behind your ears. Your soft gaze softened his heart and he kept looking into them.
His hands cupped your face and pulled you closer to his face. Your nose touched with his and his minty fresh breath fanned your face.
Without using any words, he asked for your permission. As much as your brain was screaming to push him and run away, your mind made your head nod.
His eyes smiled.
And then he let his soft lips be on yours. Everything about him was warm and soft.
His lips lapped yours in a slow kiss. It was not lusty or heated but the one where he expressed more than he could say. The care, the love, the admiration. He didn't only kiss your lips but your soul. Dramatic but made sense.
Your lips moved in sync.
Jeon Jungkook was your first kiss.
He was careful trying not to hurt you. He held your face as if it was made of glass. Your hands were clutching his shirt as if you let go, you might actually break. It felt like a fever dream, the one from which you never wanted to wake up.
Your lips parted away from his and your forehead rested against his. You opened your eyes unhurriedly and saw him already looking at you.
“Jealousy?” you asked.
Jungkook’s hands slid down and held your waist, “you might have stolen my heart, Princess,” he deeply whispered. “Let it be MissPeach or Miss Park… your both of those sides snatched my heart. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to be with you, baby,” his thumbs drew circles on your waist. “At first it was the fascination of MissPeach but since I have started to get to know you, I've been dying to make you mine, Princess. You fucked up my mind… And I love it. I love it more than I should,” he breathily chuckled.
“How did you know it was me?” your mind was blurred with proximity.
“Believe me or not but it was your hands that made me realize and when you talked, I knew it was MissPeach,” he said and kissed the tip of your nose.
“My hands?” you frowned and looked at your hands. You turned them around to see what gave them off.
Jungkook chuckled and held your hands in his large ones. Bringing them closer to his lips, he pecked them. “Everything you allowed me to see and hear, I know them. A single look and a single noise of you will always make me know that it's you, Princess.”
You were at a loss for words. “But why would you pay attention to a girl who fucks herself for everyone to see?”
With two fingers, he lifted up your chin and looked into your eyes, “You are not just a girl, Y/n. You are my girl. And don't think of yourself any less just because you are a camgirl. I know you and know that you are better than anyone I have ever known.” You could see the concern swimming in his pebble eyes. “I want you to be mine, baby. Is that too much to ask?”
“You are my professor,” you voiced your fear. “What if someone finds out?”
“Not forever,” he kissed your forehead. “And no one will find out. Just one and a half more years, baby. Then we can be free and be ourselves. Give it a try, okay?”
You had nothing to lose.
“Okay.”
Little peeking and pecking kept going on between Jungkook and you. Small smiles and reassuring pats on the back were a new routine that the two of you followed.
There was no need for any extra classes anymore but it only felt right and it was the only way to spend some time without anyone interrupting or feeling highly alerted.
You were sitting on the chair, working through some practical problems on your own. Nothing was better than this. Sitting in your professor's office, studying peacefully, stealing some kisses and praises, and just existing together— no more existing alone.
Jungkook was leaning against the table next to you, running his fingers through your luscious locks. It was his newly found habit that he loved the most.
His fingers traced your forehead, moving along your temple down to your chin, he raised your head and looked deep into your eyes. His thumb grazed your lower lip. His eyes were taking in the softness of your lips.
Leaning down till your foreheads touched, he said, “Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are, Princess?”
“Like ten minutes ago,” you closed your eyes and took in the closeness.
“Really?” he gasped. “I should tell you that more often than that,” you giggled. Something in his chest warmed up. “You are the most perfect person I have seen, baby.”
“Yeah?” He hummed in answer. “But don't you think that other girls are perfect and I’m nothing in front of them? They have perfect features and perfect bodies. Their hair is always well-styled and their makeup is seamless. And their skin looks baby-soft all the time.”
It was odd to unfold your insecurities like this.
Jungkook inhaled, “look at me, baby,” he asked in the softest voice. When you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes, he began, “They are pretty and perfect. Just not for me. Everyone is pretty and perfect in their own little ways. And you, my darling, are the most perfect and breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life. They are pretty in my eyes, but you are prettier. They might have the softest skin but I only want to caress your sweet cheeks. Their hairstyles take much effort, probably but yours are the ones that make my heart flutter. Everything you do is far better than them for me. So, never say that ever again. Of course, if you feel insecure, you tell me. I'll make sure to make you feel like the queen that you are. And if anyone touches you to tell you otherwise, they will be seeing a version of me that nobody asked.”
Your heart quivered. No one has ever made you feel the way Jungkook did. Older men like him always know how to be a gentleman. Nothing compares to him. You were sure that he was a cleaner version of Zade Meadows.
Something else has been bothering you. “Mr Jeon…”
“Yes, baby?” he caressed your cheek.
“I–I masturbate on live streams. Doesn't that bother you?” you looked everywhere but his eyes.
Jungkook straightened up and walked back to his seat and sat down. “Come here,” he patted his lap.
You stood up and shakily walked to him. His hands clutched your sides and made you sit on his lap, your legs on his either side and back against the table.
His hands rubbed your sides to calm your trembles. “Why do you ask that?”
“I don't know,” you whispered.
“You didn't go live since that day, baby. Why is that?” you rested your palms on his shoulders.
“I wasn't sure if you would like that, me going live after everything happened between us,” you hated to talk about this but it was necessary. And the sooner you talk about this, the better.
“Do you enjoy doing lives? Tell me honestly, okay?” he asked. His eyes held nothing but understanding. That made it easier for you. But you still took some time. Were you really into this whole ordeal? “Baby?” Jungkook shook you out of your head.
“I don't,” you blur out. Jungkook's eyebrows raised in half surprise and half question. “Well, not as much. I guess the more I did the more I became used to it. There are things I don't like about it. And if I had other options, I would have never gone this way.”
His hands moved to your back, and seeing your shiny eyes made his heart ache. He pulled you closer to his chest, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Then why are you doing this, pretty? Why is there no other option?”
You inhaled his intoxicating scent before you began, “My father had a business. It had about two million worth of average turnover. It was going perfectly. My mother was a housewife. We were living a perfect little life like any other middle-class family. We had a two-story house in the city and two cars. Nothing else was needed. However, everything came crashing down one day…” Jungkook felt wet against his neck, it squeezed his heart but he kept listening as he rubbed your back.
“He was rushed to the hospital and we got a call. My father had a brain tumour. It was bad. It affected such parts of the brain that made his body non-functional. I was still a minor and wasn't aware of much. Things took a great turn and in a span of a few years, everything that my father built from scratch was gone.
His medical bills were amassing up. We had to sell everything. We sold one car. A year later from that incident, we sold our house,” you choked on your words. Your hands clutched Jungkook's shirt tightly in your fist. “We moved closer to the hospital but outside the city. It was a one-room apartment. It had no rooms. Just a space which had one kitchen and one door that led to the bathroom. Nothing else.
We lived there. My parents still live there. I worked hard every day to get a scholarship. I forgot what it was like to sleep or have fun. In that little space, three of us were… we were just there. Not really alive. But just three beating hearts. I passed my exam. I got the scholarship,” you took a deep shaky breath.
“I got into the University I always wanted. I maintained my grades so that I could change my and my parents’ lives. My professors there were impressed with my performance so they persuaded me to give my name in the student exchange program. I wasn't sure before but they said that it was only going to help me and make my resume look like a quote-unquote shining star
“Good things come with their own bitterness. Even if the fee was forgiven, I still had to reach here. We didn't have enough funds for that so we ended up selling our second car. I preferred to live off-campus. It wasn't the most sane idea but it was harder to be in a dorm.
“So when I came here, I found a job as a barista but that didn't pay any of my bills. And my parents needed money as well. My mother couldn't work because she needed to look after my father all the time. So, I took responsibility because they spent too much on me for me to come here. And I didn't want to be a burden.
“So the only option I was left with was live streaming. It pays my rent and the rest goes to my parents. For hospital bills and all. Nothing else earned me enough but this. So I had to do what I do now.”
It was a dead silence. Jungkook's hands on your back stopped moving somewhere in between. You wanted him to say something or at least run your back to comfort you. But when you raised your head and looked at his face, silent tears were running down his closed eyes. He was biting his lip so that no voice escaped him.
He wanted to comfort you by staying strong but it was harder than it was in his head.
“Jungkook,” you first time took his name. It made his heart flutter. He opened his eyes and just looked at you. You looked tired and it all made sense to him. You stayed away from everyone and closed yourself off just so you could work hard towards your goals and make something out of your life. To make a difference in the family and help them.
You took steps out of your liking and comfort zone just so your parents could have a little bit of ease on themselves. You were beyond perfect. You were more than an angel.
You were too good to be true.
He choked on his words, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn't mean to cry but I just can't help,” his last three words were almost inaudible.
Your heart clenched and fresh tears poured out of your eyes. Holding his face in your tiny hands, you wiped his tears and kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you,” you whispered.
“For what, baby?” he sniffed.
“…just take it,” you kissed his cheek.
He smiled and pecked your glossy lips. “You know that I’m so proud of you, baby. And you just keep on making me prouder every single day. I admire your will and strength. There is nothing that can stop you from chasing your dreams, pretty girl. And I'll be right next to you to make sure that you have everything in the world you need to keep you happy. I'll take all of your tensions and work on them with you. You don't have to worry about anything. Let me know the bank details and I'll take care of your parents’ expenses from now on.”
“No,” you said. “I don't want you to do that at all. All I want from you is to be here. Let me take care of my parents, please. I don't wanna take anything from you. The only thing I want is you and nothing else,” you were aware of the blind money that this university paid to their A-listed professors and Jungkook happened to be one of them. But you weren't here for money but for him.
“I will be always here with you just like right now,” he whispered against your lips before joining them.
He bit your lip lightly making you gasp. The innocent kiss turned into a heated one. Taking the opportunity, he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. You let him explore your mouth as you did his. He sucked your lower lip and let it go.
Your jaw was littered with kisses and licks as he found his way to your neck. It took him two seconds to find your soft spot and sucked on it, making you hum. Your hands threaded through his hair and fisted them.
Your nails against his scalp made his cock twitch in his pants and it got harder the more you moaned. He looked into your eyes. “Baby, we need to stop before I do something else,” he warned you.
You whined, “No, please don't stop now,” you begged.
“But you are not fine right now,” he tried to reason.
“I won't be if you don't touch me! Make me forget everything but you, Mr Jeon! Make me feel free… Please fuck me!” you begged.
Something ticked inside him. His eyes went feral. The blood left his brain and rushed straight into his cock. He swiped everything from his table and dropped you on it. He hastily removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He came closer and attached your forehead with his As he looked into your eyes.
In a low, deadly voice, I’m going to fuck you senseless, baby. I'll make sure we leave this campus with you in my arms and not on your feet.”
Jungkook removed his shirt and shortly his pants followed behind. He lets you take in his body. Your jaw slacked open. He had a murderous figure. His chest was big and his abs were defined. What made your pussy throb like a bitch was his right arm which was adorned with tattoos. You knew about the hand tattoos but you never knew about the arm. He was full of surprises.
His thighs were big and stiff. You knew it. Every time he made you sit on his lap, you knew they had their own glory and you wanted to ride it anytime.
It looked like God himself— no, the Devil himself carved this man. There was no way that God would create something this sinful.
“Like what you see, Princess?” if you knew his voice could go any deeper, you would have controlled yourself better. But you let out a loud moan just by hearing his voice while shamelessly looking at his body. The outline of his humongous cock didn't go unnoticed.
“Oh my God,” you shakily whispered.
Jungkook didn't wait any longer, his patience was already running low. His fingers played with the hem of your blouse, waiting for you to give him the green light.
It took a shy smile and a nod from you for him to go wild. He removed your shirt and captured your lips between his. Your tongues fought for dominance.
The bra was next to go. Your sensitive nipples hardened as the cool air touched them.
Then his eyes fell on that little tattoo that made him untamed. That little peach above your hip teased him. “That is going to kill me someday, baby,” he grunted.
Jungkook cupped your tits and kissed his way to them. He pushed you down on the table and lapped on your left nipple. His left hand cupped your other tit and his right hand fondled with your pants button.
He opened it and slid his hand in your panties. His fingers touched your leaking pussy and slid lower to your hole. He brought his wet fingers to your clit and rubbed it slowly making you moan out his name.
He chuckled darkly, “Look at you, all wet for me,” he teasingly bit your nipple as his eyes were fixed on your face. He loved how your face scrunched up with pleasure.
He took the other nipple in his mouth and repeated the assault on them. Slowly, he kissed down your sternum. His warm lips hovered above your tattoo and then he kissed it. You thrashed under him as he kept licking and sucking the spot. He was satisfied when the pastel colours of your tattoo had a deep red and purple hue around it.
He waited for this, to see your face while the tremors of pleasure ran through your body. None of your lives could compete with the real thing that you had. And Jungkook worshipped it.
He pinched your clit and made your back arch, pushing your breast more into his hungry mouth. He loved how your body reacted to his touches. And the forbidden nature of the relationship made him hornier.
It was so wrong yet so right.
“This needs to go, baby,” he rasped. His hands impatiently removed your pants along with your panties. “Fuck,” he grunted.
No, seriously… the real thing could never match the screen.
Jungkook took a seat and pulled you closer by your legs. He dropped your legs on his shoulder, kissing his way up to your pussy. Your legs trembled around his head as he got closer.
Supporting yourself up with your elbows, you looked into his mischievous eyes. You had never seen such a look in his eyes. Your heart felt glad that it was that way. Not in a million years, you wanted him to give this look to someone else.
He teased your pussy by giving light kisses on your folds. But he gave in as you started to whine. The moment you felt his hot lips pressed onto your pussy, your eyes rolled back as you fell back. His lips wrapped around your throbbing clit and sucked it.
Your nails scratched the wooden table as his tongue played with you. He lapped your dripping hole and moaned as your sweet taste coated his mouth.
The vibrations of his moans made your legs wrap around his head harder but he slapped them away. “Be a good little kitten for me, baby.”
“Please,” you moaned.
“Please what?” he bit your clit.
“Please, sir.”
“Oh, fuck!” he grunted as he found out his new kink. His cock got harder, which surprised him. “What do you want, Princess? Tell me, baby. Tell your professor what your needy cunt wants.”
Another wave of sinful shocks travelled your belly as he talked dirty making you cry out in bliss, “Your fingers! Please, sir!”
He smirked at you and licked your clit just as he pushed two of his fingers in your cunt. Your brows scrunched up and your mouth fell open.
His long, thick fingers filled you up. They moved along with the rhythm of his tongue and did come hither motion, teasing your g-spot.
His fingers picked up the pace and fucked you. He could feel your climax coming closer as your pussy throbbed around his fingers. He didn't stop and soon enough, your back arched, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and came all over his fingers.
Jungkook almost came in his boxers when your needy cunt squirted all over him. He didn't stop sucking on your clit and plunged his fingers until he got everything you had for him.
He removed his fingers and looked into your eyes as he licked his fingers clean. He bent over you with his arms next to your head, “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess. So fucking pretty.”
You pulled him in and smashed your lips against his lips and tasted yourself. “You know, that day on live, it was my first time squirting and I was thinking about you doing exactly this.”
“Baby, you are going to fucking kill me,” he said as he cock twitched and begged to be released. He made a quick move in discarding his boxers and freed his cock as it smacked against your pussy.
You pulled apart and looked down at his angry, throbbing cock. Your eyes bulged out at the length and the girth of it. His cock was bigger and fatter than any of your little toys. You weren't sure if he was going to fit.
“I don't think that will fit in,” you whispered, still glancing at his monstrosity.
He chuckled darkly and pecked your lips, “Baby, my dick was made to serve your pretty little cunt,” he hummed in your ear as his hand slid his cock on your slit, making it slicker with your cum. “So, your cunt will take,” he aligned his cock with your hole, “this,” he pushed his angry head in, “fucking,” your eyes rolled as his cock practically ripped your insides, “dick,” he shoved it to the hilt.
His breath came out in pants. He kissed your lips as you got used to his size. “So fucking warm and tight,” he mumbled against your lips. “It’s all mine… all mine.”
“More,” you gasped. “Fuck me like I’m your slut!”
Jungkook smirked as his cock twitched in your cunt. He slowly pulled out a few inches and shoved his cock back, making you moan. His veiny cock rubbed your walls perfectly and the curve of his cock made his hot head caress your G-spot.
It was an overwhelming feeling but in a good way.
Slowly he picked up his pace and fucked you. His right hand went between your body and rubbed your clit. “Oh my God!” you moaned.
He looked between your bodies where you were sucking him in. His cock twitched seeing how your pussy was all spread open around his cock. The velvety warm walls of your cunt made it harder for him to stay sane. He was trembling just like you.
“So perfect for me, baby. So perfect,” he whispered as he kissed your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you do good. I'm gonna fuck my pretty little slut so good that she forgets everything but me.”
“Jungkook!” your moan turned into a gasp when you felt a sting on your ass cheek. Jungkook rubbed the area where he had just spanked you. He looked you in the eye with a murderous glare. He stopped his thrusts.
“What do you say, slut?” he growled. “I think you are asking for a punishment. Hm?” you screamed when his heavy hand landed on your sensitive clit.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered as another hard blow landed on your other asscheek. Your pussy clenched around his cock. He loved it. He loved how you took everything he gave you. Such a pretty little slut for him.
“You like being spanked, don't you?” His thrusts were slow and hard. Your tits jiggled with each stroke. “Look at you, your cunt is practically suffocating me.”
You cried, “Please, sir. I'll be a good girl. Please, harder.”
He leaned in, shoved his tongue down your throat and pushed your legs up. He picked up an animalistic pace and fucked you to oblivion. The sound of skin slapping got louder. His balls slapped your ass.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
Like an obedient little slut, you opened your mouth and slipped your tongue out. He collected the spit in his mouth and spat on your tongue. “Swallow,” he moaned as you clenched so badly around his shaft. You swallowed his spit and showed him your mouth. “Good Girl.”
He wrapped his free hand around your neck and squeezed it just enough for you to breathe properly but tight enough to make your pussy throb like a bitch.
“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he grunted. “So fucking kinky and dirty. Just as I love it,” he pinched your clit.
“Only for you!” you gasped.
“Yes, baby. Only for me. I'm never gonna let you go. Do whatever you want, pretty. Do as many lives as you want but only I can touch and fuck this pussy. Only mine,” he bit your lips.
Jungkook could feel you throb around his cock, telling him that you were close. “So close,” you whimpered against his mouth.
“Cum, Princess. Cum for Daddy,” your legs trembled and your back arched as let you cum all over his cock and helped your ride through it.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you screamed.
Jungkook held your legs and fucked you ruthlessly as he chased his own high. He could feel your cum coating his cock. His head felt light as he finally came inside your pussy.
His hot cum filled your pussy to the brim. You felt a small wave of orgasm hit you as he came.
He panted and hugged you closer. His head rested on your chest and listened to your running heartbeat. He loved it. He loved feeling you all naked on his desk. Your hands found their home in his hair as they caressed his scalp. “Baby, are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you panted. You took in the closeness and appreciated every moment with him.
After a moment, Jungkook pulled and looked at your pussy leaking your and his mixed cum. If it were someone else, the thought would never have crossed his mind but looking at your pussy, he wanted to eat it clean. It looked so delicious and creamy. It was as if she was inviting him and taunting him. He needed to eat you.
So he did that.
He sat on his chair and pulled you closer to him and without a warning, he licked your sensitive pussy from your hole to the clit.
You whimpered as he overstimulated your pussy. “Too sensitive.”
“Give me one more, Baby. Just one more. I know you can,” he said and shoved his tongue into your hot cunt and ate till you came on his tongue once again.
You were a trembling mess. You could still feel his cock in your stomach as he got up to clean you. When he gently wiped your pussy with a wet tissue, you flinched but he rubbed his free hand on your side, down to your leg, soothing you and getting you through this.
You looked at his face which was glowing and had an admirable smile on his pretty face. His cheeks and ears were red. He looked at you with stars in his eyes and felt like crying.
Nobody had ever looked at you the way he did. But again, nobody was Jungkook but him.
“Let's go to my place, yeah? I don't want to leave without you. I need you to be closer to me. We can cuddle, watch movies, have dinner, and do anything you want, okay?” he said as he cleaned his softening cock and got dressed up.
You thought for a moment, “Okay…” you didn't want to be alone either. You craved his touch and warmth. This was your first time, it only made you want him more.
“Let's get you dressed up as well,” he smiled.
Jungkook held your hands and helped you off the table but your trembling legs gave up. He caught you and hugged you against his chest. You looked up with your mouth open as you felt sore. He gave you a knowing smirk.
To say the least, he ended up carrying you out of the university to his car.
“Oh my God!” you sulked in the corner of the couch as you curled into a ball. “Someone could have walked in!”
It was amusing for Jungkook to watch you just realize that you two had sex in his office at the University. He wondered how only now you registered it and not before while he was buried in your pussy.
“I had my door locked, sweety. Don't worry,” he chuckled as stood by the dining table, mixing the chocolate cake batter.
“Some could have knocked or worse,” you looked up at him with eyes wide open and your expression morphed into horror, “heard us!”
He left the bowl on the dining table and sat beside you, pulling you on his lap. He cupped your pouting face and kissed your lips softly. “Nothing happened, right? So don't worry, my love. Come help me bake the cake and then we will have dinner.”
You hummed and pecked his lips. “Okay, Mr Jeon.”
“Jungkook. It's Jungkook for you, Princess… or Daddy. The choice is yours,” he winked, making you laugh.
Later that night, Jungkook kissed every inch of you. He started from your forehead to your toes. He loved the idea of having you in his bed. He lent you his shirt that was too big for your frame. You wore nothing else under that shirt. He fanboyed over you and worshipped you.
“You look effortlessly beautiful,” he mumbled as he kissed your jaw. “You have me wrapped around your pinky finger in just a couple of weeks, hm.”
You giggled as you rubbed your hand along his tattooed arm. “I never knew you had tattoos.”
Jungkook laid beside you and in his arms and looked at his right arm. “I never show them in the University. When I had recently joined, everyone used to stare. It was a distraction so I started wearing full sleeves.”
“Of course, they will be distracted. And now I will, too! Now whenever I'm going to see you, I will see what's beneath your clothes,” you said.
Jungkook smirked, “Yeah? You will imagine me naked in the class now?” he teased. “I’m your Professor, Princess. Have some shame.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Where was your shame when you ripped my pussy with that sinful thing you call your dick?”
His chest rumbled with a laugh, making you smile. “Touché… I can't really complain, can I? I'll be seeing you naked, too,” he kissed your lips tenderly. “You fucked me up, Princess. I thought it was just lust for MissPeach but fuck, I would be lying if I didn't say I feel more than that and feel like protecting you from everything… Thank you for giving me a chance, love. I'll make sure that you are happy from now on. I'll take care of you from now on.”
“But—”
“Shh,” his finger on your lips shut you up. “I know that it is too soon but please move in here with me, yeah? You don't have to worry about the rent, I own this place. I don't feel good about letting you live alone. It is too soon but you can try, please. As I said before, you can stream as much as you want and support your parents. But let me take care of you. It hurts me to see you tired and not taken care of. So, let me do it. And if someone suspects something. Just say that I rent you a room in the apartment and if they still have any issues, bring them to me and don't hide if someone is rude to my pretty girl, okay?”
“I don't deserve your kindness, Jungkook,” you smiled with watery eyes. “But I'll be selfish for once and take it.”
He smiled and kissed you again. “That's my good girl,” he whispered and turned you around.
Your back was plastered with his warm chest. His arm circled your body and his hand pathed its way between your legs. He cupped your pussy and shoved his two fingers in. His other hand slid under your shirt and groped your breast.
You gasped, “what…?”
Jungkook kissed your shoulder, “you will sleep better. And I get to be closer to you,” he whispered. “Now sleep, Princess.”
You bit your lip and melted in his chest. Your insides exploded with giddiness. It did indeed feel good to have his fingers in your pussy as you fell asleep.
It was the best night ever.
“You deserve all the kindness in the world, Baby.”
Epilogue.
12 years later.
The heel of your red bottoms tapped on the floor as you walked down the corridor and you reached your apartment door.
You weren't supposed to go but there was an emergency at the hospital where you were an Oncologist. Luckily, everything was under control and you got to leave sooner. But it was still late.
You entered the passcode and opened the door. However, you were left surprised.
The lights were off but the living room was blooming with candle lights. The floor was covered with roses. There was a lingering scent of your favourite candle along with the mouth-watering aroma of the food.
You walked in and saw Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room. His face was glowing with a perfect toothy smile. “Happy 10th anniversary, Princess.”
You dropped your bag and ran into his arms. He chuckled as you jumped on him. He caught you, spinning you around. Yours and his giggles filled the happy place.
“Happy anniversary to you too, love,” you whispered in his ear. “You didn't have to do any of this.”
“But I wanted to,” he smiled. “Did I tell you that you are gorgeous?”
“About billions of times,” you giggled.
“Ah, still not enough,” he kissed your lips with passion. “I need to tell you that even more.”
“You will go crazy,” you cupped his face.
“I went crazy the day I actually looked at you, Baby,” his nose touched yours. “I love being crazy for you. I love being crazy in love with you. The day you let me have you was the day you made me go insane. I still cry thinking about how the fuck I got so lucky to have you. You are so intelligent, smart, and strong. You did everything for your parents and I don't know how I got you but it's all I ever wanted. Being in love with you makes me realize how addicting you are. All I want is you for me to settle my cravings.
A shy smile tugged at your lips as your eyes watered. “I love you so much, Jungkook. I have no words for it.”
“I see it, Love. I know it,” he hugged you tightly. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”
In these years, you have come so far. You were no longer a streamer but a well-known Oncologist.
You worked hard towards your dreams and Jungkook stood by your side and supported you. You had nothing to worry about because he was there. Everything fell into one place.
Your father got operated on. Things turned out to be better. He was recovering. But he was fine. When you were settled enough, you asked them to come here. They did. It was the best feeling ever.
Through physical therapy, your father was able to move his body and showed a huge difference in a small amount of time. However, he was still suggested to keep the wheelchair around outside. He was weaker but better.
They were living at the apartment where you lived with Jungkook in University. Along with them, Jungkook’s parents moved into that apartment to help them around. It was fun to have them around, all four of them. They formed a perfect bond in a blink of an eye.
You both bought a new apartment when you found out about your pregnancy four years ago. Jungkook was over the moon and stuck by you like a monkey. He took care of you and the baby.
Two years later you gave birth to another baby. It was a complete family and nothing else was needed.
Jungkook always wanted two kids, a girl and a boy. Now that you had them, he was satisfied with his life. He bragged about you and the babies to everyone. Even at University, he would show baby videos to all of his colleagues.
He proposed to you for marriage right after you completed your degree. He was excited to make you his. He spent hours planning for the wedding that you both wanted.
Everybody teased you about how crazy he was for you.
In the beginning, everyone was disgusted and unaccepting of your relationship. However, everything settled when they saw how genuine you two were. It was as if you two couldn't breathe without each other.
When you became a Doctor, Jungkook cried happy tears and told you how proud he was and that he knew you were going to do big things in life.
That night he showed you so much love.
“Where are Seol and Jae?” you asked about your kids.
“I dropped them at our parents’. I wanted to have you all by myself. In the end, it is our anniversary,” he winked at you with a devilish look on his face.
“Is that so?” you smirked.
“After dinner, be a good girl and go into our room… naked and ass up for me,” his hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it as you looked at him with a slutty look.
“Yes, sir.”
…..
Taglist:
@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae
Have a nice day/night💓
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promisingyounglady · 7 months
Text
accident. | JP x Reader
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PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader
SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.
WC: 3.6k
WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst
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A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.
He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.
Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.
Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.
He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.
Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.
Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.
“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”
“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.
“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”
Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.
Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.
“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.
She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.
“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.
“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.
“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.
Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.
Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.
“Fucking hell.”
_
You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.
Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.
Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.
“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.
Javier was supposed to pick you up too.
But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself
You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.
Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.
What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.
You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.
You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.
You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.
Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.
When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.
Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.
The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.
Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”
Thwack.
An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.
“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.
Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.
“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.
Thwack. Thwack.
The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.
“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”
You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.
Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.
He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”
The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.
You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.
“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.
“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”
“Mi-”
“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.
Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.
You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.
“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.
“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.
You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”
Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.
You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”
The words pierce through Javier’s heart.
Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.
“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."
Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.
A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.
“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.
“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.
A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.
Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.
“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.
“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.
You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.
You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.
But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.
Now it was your turn to fuck things up.
Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.
Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.
You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.
You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.
“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.
Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.
“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.
That wasn’t what scared you.
What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.
“Javi, I’ll go get the-“
“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.
You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.
“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.
Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.
You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.
”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.
Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.
“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.
You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.
He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.
“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.
“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.
“Answer me, mama”
A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.
”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.
Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.
“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.
Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.
“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.
You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.
”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.
”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”
You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.
“Yes, Javier” you repeated.
He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.
It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.
You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.
“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.
“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.
You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.
“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.
“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.
“I know.” He says back gruffly.
Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.
“Merida”
You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.
”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.
Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.
You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.
Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.
“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.
Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.
You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.
It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.
Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.
“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.
“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.
He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.
He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.
“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.
You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.
Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.
You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.
“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.
You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”
You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”
You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.
You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.
Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.
3K notes · View notes
theetherealbloom · 3 months
Text
I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY
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Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.
Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort, 
Word Count: 7k
A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D” 
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
| Main Masterlist |
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September 26, 1967.
The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.
You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?
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Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.
When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.
You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.
As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.
"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.
You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"
Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.
You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"
"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.
Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."
"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.
You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."
Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.
You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."
Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.
You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.
"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."
"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.
Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.
"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"
But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.
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The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.
"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."
Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.
Tess, your friend died that day.
But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”
You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.
Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.
The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls. 
Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.
You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.
You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.
You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.
Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.
"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.
You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.
Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.
You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.
Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.
It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.
You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.
As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.
Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"
You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.
Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"
You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."
"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"
You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."
Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"
You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.
Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.
"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."
You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.
"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.
"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"
Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."
Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."
You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."
Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"
You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"
Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.
Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."
As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own. 
Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
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You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.
"Hey, darlin’."
The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”
He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”
You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”
Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”
A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”
“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”
You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”
Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”
You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.
He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”
Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”
You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”
Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”
He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”
The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”
Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.
“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”
“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.
Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”
“You too, Joel,” you said softly.
He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.
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The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.
As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.
“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.
He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”
As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.
“Found the problem,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”
Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.
“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”
You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.
“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”
He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”
Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest. 
His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”
Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.
“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”
Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.
“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”
Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.
“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.
“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.
Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”
As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.
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The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.
“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.
“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”
But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.
The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.
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It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.
Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.
Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”
Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.
Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.
Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.
He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.
Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.
The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.
The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.
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Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.
The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.
Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.
As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.
Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.
“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.
“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”
But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.
The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.
By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.
Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.
“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.
“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.
Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.
The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.
“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.
“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”
Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”
Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.
“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.
Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.
Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.
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Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.
One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.
In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.
“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.
“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.
“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.
Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”
You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”
“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.
The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”
Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.
Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.
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1K notes · View notes
crdteezv · 16 days
Text
Privacy - Haechan
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Paring:  !childhood friends/best friend’s brother/roommates to lovers !! haechan x afab! reader
Genre: non-idol! au, smut
Synopsis: You've been struggling with money ever since you lost your job. You even got kicked out of your apartment, so you asked your best friend if you could stay with her for a bit. However, with her being out of town, she insists that you stay with her older brother, Haechan. The two of you were inseparable as kids, but it's been years since you last saw him. Now, living under the same roof, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be able to resist the perverted fantasies you’ve slowly begun to develop about him…
 Warnings: smut. !teasing/hard dom! haechan, perv reader, he is slightly a perv too but it’s mainly the reader, reader loves the smell of his cologne for some reason…, the reader humps his what???, reader takes videos/pictures of him, invasion of privacy, dirty talk, HEAVY HUMILIATION, teasing, praise/degradation, voyeurism, light nipple play, mirror sex, use of sex toys, kissing,  fingering, oral (giving), facefucking, manhandling, lots of hair pulling, masochism, light spanking, edging, overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex
Word Count: 6.6k words
A/N: Y’all just have to hear me out on this one… I’ve had this idea for over a year now and just didn’t know who I wanted to write it for, but now inspiration struck and I finally wrote it!! I have rarely seen any fics like this before with the reader being a perv, so I wanted to try it out. I did get a little carried away with this, so understand that this isn’t for everyone. So, If you don’t like it, don’t read it. I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I plan on writing a bonus drabble related to this soon! Whenever I do, I’ll make sure to add it here!!
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You lost your job and now can't afford your apartment's rent. You used to have a steady office position that covered your expenses, but the company went bankrupt and had to lay off all its employees. You've been trying to find a new one for weeks, but with bills piling up, you had no choice but to move out of your place.
“Aw, I’m sorry they’re kicking you out of your apartment. That’s so unfair. Can’t you ask them to extend the lease and promise to pay them back next month?” your best friend asked you over the phone.
“I already did, but it’s been two months, and they can’t extend it any longer.”
“Damn, well, I’d say you could stay with me, but I’m going to be out of town for the whole month. Hey, maybe you can stay with Haechan!”
At first, you didn’t know what to say. You’ve always had a secret crush on her older brother, Haechan, but you never told her, for obvious reasons. You basically grew up with both of them, and you didn’t want to risk ruining the friendship the three of you shared. Haechan used to tease you all the time, and you used to hate him for it. As you got older, you got used to it. You can’t even remember when you started developing feelings for him, but you knew you were head over heels.
“I don’t know… I haven’t seen him since college, and now you want me to just live with him?”
“Oh, please, you’ll be fine! Besides, he’ll be more than happy to help you out since you’re going through a rough time right now.”
She had a point. He’s always been a good guy, and he wouldn’t say no, especially since you don’t have a place to live at the moment.
“You’re right. I just didn’t want to be a burden, you know?”
“You worry too much! I’m going to let him know you’ll be staying with him. He’ll probably call you after I talk to him, so heads up!”
“Okay, and thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it!”
She was pleased and hung up to call Haechan. You hadn’t spoken to him in years, and you started to realize what was about to happen. You were about to live with your best friend's brother, who also happened to be your childhood crush.
Your stomach churned with instant stress and nervousness. You started to panic, wondering what to say when he called and whether you might come off as annoying. You always overthink things when it comes to him. You began pacing back and forth in your now-empty apartment, waiting for his call. You had already put all your important belongings and furniture in a storage unit until you could find a new place.
Your phone rang, and you saw it was Haechan. You answered nervously.
“H-Hello?”
“Hey you, it’s been a while, huh?”
His voice sounded just like you remembered—soft-spoken and gentle.
“Yeah, it has! How have you—”
“We haven’t seen each other in years, and all of a sudden, you want to live with me. Don’t you think we’re moving a little too fast?”
You rolled your eyes at his comment, knowing that he was only saying that to tease you.
"Oh, shut up. You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to. I would’ve stayed with your sister, but you know what happened with that."
You heard him let out a sigh and stretch his body in the process.
"Yeah, every year she goes on these exotic trips with her boyfriend and goes MIA for a month. I was shocked that she even called me."
"Damn, she still calls me whenever she goes on her trips."
"Whatever. Anyway, I’m sorry to hear what happened with your job. You’re more than welcome to stay with me until you can get back on your feet and support yourself again."
"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were going to leave me hanging for a second."
He let out a laugh and said, "What? No, I would never do that. What makes you think I would?"
"I don’t know. It’s just... we haven’t spoken or seen each other since college, and now here I am, begging you to let me stay with you."
He laughed again. You always loved the way he laughed—so carefree and happy. It gave you so much comfort.
"Ah, you’re killing me here. I’ve always loved how funny you are. Now, I’m on my way to you. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up."
"Dude, it’s almost midnight. Aren’t you tired?"
"Yeah, but your lease technically ends today, right? They’re going to be knocking at your door to leave anyway, so you might as well move in tonight."
He made a fair point. It would be best if you left now. You already had all your clothes and personal items with you, so you could just leave tonight if you wanted.
"Alright, come pick me up. I’m basically packed already!"
"Great! I’ll leave my place now. See you soon!"
You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone. You started to feel nervous about seeing Haechan after all this time. You realized all you were wearing was a loose tank top and some joggers, but you were too tired to even bother changing into something else.
20 minutes later...
You heard a knock at the door, and lo and behold, it was Haechan. He still looked the same, except he was a little taller than the last time you saw him. He wore a black hoodie with a baseball cap and sweatpants.
He looked so attractive.
Even now, in something as simple as a hoodie, you instantly felt yourself go insane seeing him like this. You noticed the sleepiness in his eyes—he had definitely lied earlier about not being tired. He just didn’t want you to feel bad for him.
You greeted each other with a simple hug, and as you did, you caught a whiff of his cologne. It had a warm, sweet, and woody scent with hints of spice and musk that lingered in the air. You wanted to hold onto him longer, but of course, you couldn’t.
As you let go, he asked what he could do to help. You told him to grab the box of miscellaneous items while you carried your clothes. You both made your way to his car, packed everything in, and after bringing down the last of your things, you climbed into the passenger seat. Every now and then, you glanced over at him, watching him drive. He looked so attractive doing something as simple as that.
You found everything he did attractive—even something as mundane as driving. The way he kept one hand on the steering wheel while leaning back in his seat made you press your thighs together. You wished, at this moment, that you could—
“Do you plan on staring at me the whole drive or what?”
You snapped out of your thoughts, realizing you'd been staring at him for a while.
“Oh, I’m sorry, just daydreaming is all.”
“Uh-huh... Anyways, we’re here now. I’m too tired to carry all your stuff up, so just grab what you need for tonight.”
You agreed, feeling sleepy yourself. You grabbed your night essentials and followed him up to his apartment. The space was sleek and minimal, with little to no decoration. He liked to keep things simple. He led you to the room where you'd be staying for the time being.
“This is where you’ll be staying. My best friend used to live here, but he moved in with his girlfriend, so it’s been empty since. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
You nodded, watching him leave before you got settled and began getting ready for bed. You left your tank top on and changed into pajama pants. After brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, only to realize how cold the room was. The one blanket he gave you wasn’t nearly enough.
You knew you couldn’t sleep through the night—it was just too cold. So, you knocked at his door. Haechan was sitting at his desktop, playing videos, but paused to look at you.
“What’s up?”
“Sorry to bother you, but the room is really cold, and the blanket you gave me isn’t enough. I was wondering if you had something else. I thought I brought my sweatshirt, but I couldn't find it.”
“Ah, I don’t think so... here, just take my hoodie for now—”
“No, I can’t. You’ll be cold for the night—”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’m used to it. My heater doesn’t work, and I was supposed to get it fixed this week, so I apologize for that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I guess I’ll take your hoodie, but I’ll give it back as soon as I find mine.”
He agreed, standing up from his gaming chair to take off his hoodie. As he pulled it over his head, his shirt underneath rode up slightly, revealing a glimpse of his waist—and a newly grown happy trail.
It took everything in you not to lose your mind at that moment, but you managed to keep your fantasies in check. He handed you the hoodie, and you left his room, putting it on as you walked back to your temporary space.
As you lay down, the smell of his cologne clung to the fabric, distracting you. You couldn’t stop thinking about when he first picked you up—how you hugged, your bodies pressed together, and how you didn’t want to let go.
Feeling lightheaded from the thought, you pushed it aside. That was a worry for another day. For now, it was time to sleep. And tonight, you slept peacefully...
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As time passed, you and Haechan grew even closer. You noticed he had become more comfortable around you. At first, when you both sat in the living room, he kept his distance out of respect, but now, you were always near each other.
He had grown so comfortable that sometimes he’d walk around the house without a shirt on. It drove you mad when he did that—you could barely look him in the eye anymore because of it.
He walked out of his room wearing only black professional slacks and dress shoes, completely shirtless. He held two different dress shirts in his hand and asked for your opinion.
“Hey, I have that big interview today and I can’t decide whether to wear the black or white shirt. Which one do you think would be better?”
You were so captivated by his features that you couldn't even focus on what he was saying to you.
“Um, hello? Is there anyone in that pretty head of yours?”
You jumped at his compliment, feeling heated with embarrassment. He let out a slight chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction.
“S-sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What was the question?” you asked, your voice tinged with nervousness.
“God, what am I going to do with you? I asked which shirt looks better for the interview.”
“I think the black one looks nice.”
He nodded and went back to his room to get dressed and prepare to leave. You felt flustered by the affection he’d been showing you lately. He had started using various nicknames for you like "love," "darling," and "pretty," and it was becoming overwhelming.
Being in a confined space with him all the time has made it worse. It’s so bad to the point where now whenever you masturbate you can only get off to the thought of him touching you. It’s a recurring thought that crosses your mind. This all started one day when you came home early from job hunting and wanted to hang out with Haechan. As you were approaching his room, you heard some noises coming from it.
Curious, you realized the sounds were his moans. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see him through the crack. His head was thrown back against the pillow, eyes closed, lost in pleasure. You were stunned and felt a wave of arousal.  You couldn’t bring yourself to stop watching him. You told yourself to walk away, reminding yourself that watching him like this was a serious invasion of his privacy.
 But this whole situation made you even more wet. 
You wanted to touch yourself while he did, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself together. So you know what you do instead?
You recorded him on your phone to have this to look back on later. You felt so gross and guilty for even doing this, but everything happened too quickly, and you couldn't resist. He looked so good, and you didn’t want to forget any of it.  As he neared climax, you weren’t sure how much time you had before he noticed you, but fortunately, he didn't. He finished, spilling over his hands and sheets. 
You quickly stopped recording and quietly made your way back to your room, trying to act as if nothing had happened. You stayed hidden until you saw him leave for his evening walk. As soon as he was out of the apartment, you immediately went to touch yourself with the video you had just taken of him.
Ever since then, you could only get off by thinking of Haechan. No one else could come to mind. You couldn’t explain this insatiable desire you had for him, and it just kept getting worse. Sometimes, when he wasn’t looking, you’d sneak a picture or two of him while he was changing. You used those to get yourself off, too.
You had started to become such a pervert for him, and you hadn’t even realized it.
Fast forward to now. As he leaves the apartment for his interview, you finally have some much-needed alone time. He recently had to quit his old job to find a new one, and he’s been home all the time. It’s nice and all, but you haven’t been able to masturbate in forever. It’s the first time in a while that you’ve been able to cum. You knew today was going to be the day.
You do what you usually do: go into your room and use your vibrator. Before you lay down on your bed, you notice you left Haechan’s hoodie, which he lent you when you moved here. You place your sex toys on the bed and go to grab his hoodie. You don’t know what possessed you, but you begin to press it against your face and realize you can still smell his cologne.
You start to think back to how he would walk around the house with that cologne. You couldn’t stop smelling it and thinking about him being with you right now. You wished he would wrap his arms around you and pull you close. You lay back down on your bed and start to touch yourself, pulling your panties to the side and rubbing against your clit while keeping his hoodie pressed against your face.
You don’t know why you lose all self-control when it comes to him. You felt like you wanted more, and just his hoodie wouldn’t be enough. Then you came up with one of the most perverted ideas yet.
To go jerk off in his bed instead.
His room would be the perfect place, as it would automatically smell like him. You felt disgusted for even thinking about it, but you did it anyway. It wouldn’t take long for you to finish at the rate you were going. You grabbed all your stuff and headed straight to his room. You immediately started to feel light-headed from the strong cologne in his room. It made sense since he had been there not too long ago.
You jumped into his bed, and even the sheets smelled like him. You placed your vibrator on his bedside table, waiting to use it when the moment was right. You went back to touching yourself, throwing your head back in pleasure. You felt a sense of bliss just being in his room. You knew you shouldn’t be there, and he would probably kick you out if he found you touching yourself in his bed. But you were at the point where you didn’t care; you were just chasing your orgasm. You started thinking about that one time you caught him touching himself in this exact bed that you were now using for yourself.
You came up with another idea.
You quickly grabbed your phone and started playing the video you recorded of him jerking off. You only use it for yourself on special occasions, and this was one of them. Lost in your own pleasure, you closed your eyes and listened to his moans. You imagined him right next to you, touching himself with you. You grabbed your vibrator from his bedside table and turned it on. Pulling your panties to the side, you pressed it against your clit. 
You moaned out loud, the sound almost like a scream. Tears started to form in your eyes as you threw your head back with pleasure. You felt so alive and didn’t even care about the consequences. You even moaned his name, unable to stop yourself.
You had come to accept that you were indeed a pervert for him…
So deep in your sinful endeavors, you failed to notice that Haechan was watching you with his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.
“It was only a matter of time before I caught you doing something like this,” he said.
You immediately stopped what you were doing and were too stunned to move. All you could do was turn off your vibrator and look at him. Words couldn’t even describe how humiliating this was for you.
Being seen in his room made everything so much worse.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account, love. You seem to be really enjoying yourself in my bed of all places.”
You wanted to die in that moment. You had never felt so ashamed in your life.
“It’s not what it looks like—”
“Oh, don’t start with that shit.”
He walked over to you, and you tried to close your legs. But he stopped you with his knee and grasped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.
“These walls aren’t that thick, darling, and I can hear you every time you touch that pretty cunt of yours.”
He started to slowly place his fingertips against your clit. You instantly began to melt and whimper at his touch.
“Every time you do it, I always hear you moan and beg for me to touch you.”
He inserts a finger into your squelching pussy and rubs his thumb against your clit, maintaining a slow but steady pace. The look on his face sends shivers down your spine. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him, especially with the state he has you in right now.
“Don’t even get me started on the night you watched me jerk off. God, sweetheart, have you ever heard of the word “privacy”?”
You didn’t realize your phone was still beside you, with the video paused on the screen. Hoping he doesn’t notice, you try to slide your hand towards it and push it under the pillow beside you. However, he beats you to it. With his other hand, he grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching for your phone. He then grabs your phone and sees that you recorded him.
“You even fucking recorded me. God, you’re so pathetic.”
You feel yourself tighten at his degrading words, and he notices.
“Aww, you like the way I’m talking to you. Did you use this video of me to jerk off just now?”
You’re too embarrassed to admit it out loud, so all you can do is nod your head. He kneels to face you and makes direct eye contact. With a low, sultry tone, he says:
“You really are such a little pervert for me, huh?”
You don’t know why, but when he calls you that, you instantly want to cum right then and there. You’re shocked that he’s even giving in to your perversion. You let out a moan and instantly regret it because he starts to laugh at you.
“Wow, you must really like it when I call you that. I won’t give you what you want, though, so you’re going to have to earn it.”
You hate how much he’s enjoying this right now. You decide enough is enough and speak up.
“W-why are you doing this? Aren’t you going to kick me out?”
He lets out a smirk, grabs your chin once more, and says:
“Why would I do that when I’m just starting to have so much fun with you?”
The way he says it is genuine, and he doesn’t want to stop any of this. You can’t believe that this is real and not one of the fantasies you dream about.
You bite your lip at his comment and can’t even think of a response.
“Now it’s time for you to pay for all the things you did behind my back. I want you to get on your knees for me.”
You were a little taken aback by his forwardness and didn’t know how to react. He positioned himself at the edge of the bed with his back facing you.
“I won’t repeat myself again. Get on your knees in front of me now.”
You quickly obeyed his demands, got onto the floor, and made your way towards him. You knelt in front of him, feeling intimidated. He was still wearing the dress shirt and pants from his interview, looking so attractive. He had left a few buttons undone at the top of his shirt, revealing a hint of his chest. You pressed your thighs together to try to compose yourself, but he was only turning you on. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked down at the floor. He then grabbed your jaw with his hand aggressively and forced you to look at him.
“You better keep your eyes on me the whole time if you know what’s good for you.”
His tone was scary and harsh. You kept your eyes locked on him as he released his grip on your jaw.
“I want you to take off your shirt.”
You felt a little flustered by his sudden demand, but the way he was looking at you sent goosebumps all over your body, and you didn’t want to upset him. You lifted your shirt, standing there half-naked in front of him, with nothing on but your panties.
“Of course, you're not wearing a bra.”
With one hand, he groped your tits, twisting the nipple of the other. You let out a loud whimper in response.
“Who would’ve known I’ve been living with such a slut this whole time?”
You threw your head back in bliss, loving the way he was touching you.
“You think I haven’t noticed you walking around the house with no bra, your nipples showing through those tight tank tops you always wear?  If you ask me, it’s like you’re begging for this to happen, love.”
He squeezed your boob harder, and all you could do was moan. You had to admit, you stopped wearing a bra at home, hoping he’d notice you. 
“It’s embarrassing to see you trying so hard to get my attention.” His cold, harsh words only heightened your arousal.
He eventually stopped, then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. You could see the bulge in his boxers. When he took out his cock, it slapped directly onto your face, making you flinch.
“Oh, sorry about that, sweetie. I guess I got a bit carried away.”
You told him it was fine and that you didn’t mind. You started to lick your lips and were about to use your hands to wrap around his dick, but he stopped you.
“Did I say that you could touch me? Remember, you have to earn it.”
He shoved his cock back into his boxers. You didn’t like how much he was teasing you, and you started to get irritated, but you were still glad that any of this was happening.
“So what do you want me to do for you then?”
“I want you to hump my shoe.”
There he goes, trying to humiliate you again. You were surprised by his request. You were already feeling embarrassed, and now he seemed to enjoy seeing you like this.
“I-I don’t think I can do—”
“Don’t get all shy on me now, darling. Just a second ago, you were spread open on my bed, ready to get off to me, and now here I am giving you what you want, and you want to back out. Maybe you’re not as much of a pervert as I thought you were.” 
There goes that trigger word of yours.
You instantly felt your body heat up all over, and you decided to sit on his dress shoe. You began to hump against him back and forth, and Haechan couldn’t believe that you were actually doing this. At first, he was just teasing you to see how far you’d go for him, but he never expected to see you act like this because of him.
This was really stroking his ego, knowing that you were this obsessed with him. He started to rub the bulge forming in his boxers and kept eye contact with you the whole time.
You were humping yourself at a steady pace and didn’t want to get too carried away. The friction of your clit against him was driving you crazy. You couldn’t believe that you had fallen this hard for him. Just a month ago, you had an innocent little crush on him that had now turned into an unhealthy, perverted obsession. 
You were enjoying every second of this.
You started to moan from how good you felt. He would lift his foot every once in a while just to mess with you, adding more to your stimulation. He had the biggest smirk on his face and enjoyed every second of this. You wrapped your arms around his leg for support. As your boobs pressed against him, he felt an intense urge to cum right then and there. It was getting harder for you to hold back, so you rested your head on his thigh as he gently patted your head.
“Mhm, you’re so pretty like this, love. Please don’t stop for me.”
This all felt like a dream to you.
You whimpered at his praise and continued to keep up the pace without stopping.
You saw him notice the mirror facing his bed and could tell he had an idea. He proceeded to grab his phone from his pocket and started to record you and your backside, which was facing the mirror.
He began to bounce his leg up and down, adding more to your stimulation. You threw your head back in pleasure and let out a sinful scream. You started to breathe heavily, and your vision was becoming blurry.
“Mhm, look at the camera for me, love. Show me how much of a slut you are.”
All this humiliation was really affecting you. The fact that he was recording you meant he would surely bring it up and tease you about it forever. You avoided looking at the camera and looked down.
Haechan didn’t like that.
With his free hand, he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look directly at his phone.
“Don’t act like you don’t like this. You were so eager just a second ago to do this, and now you can’t even look at me. It’s pathetic, really.”
You let out a low moan at his degrading words. He knows how much you love being treated like this. He pointed the camera at the mirror, revealing just how much you were enjoying this.
“God, I can’t wait to get off with this later.”
You start to tense up at his words, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. You don’t know how long you could last if he keeps talking about you in such a vulgar manner.
“Mhm, you’d love that, huh sweetheart? Me getting off just from the thought of you. You love all this attention I’m giving you. I bet you’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”
All you could do was nod in response. Sensing that you were getting close, he didn’t want you to cum just yet. He stopped recording and said,
“Okay, I want you to stop now.”
You were so into it that you didn’t even realize he was talking to you. He was starting to get annoyed by how many times he had to call your name for you to stop what you were doing. Eventually, he had enough and yanked your hair, making you look up at him.
“Don’t you hear me telling you to stop?”
You snapped back into reality and realized that he was talking to you.
“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
Still gripping your hair, he dragged you across the room and pressed you up against the wall, standing in front of you while you knelt on the floor. As you looked up at him, you began to feel even more intimidated than before. The angry and disgusted look on his face sent shivers down your spine.
“Don’t give me that excuse. You’re such a little slut and couldn’t help yourself. But remember, I’m the one allowing all of this and giving you permission.”
He released your hair and began to unzip his pants, letting his cock fall onto your face. He patronized you by lightly slapping your face with it.
“I could stop all this right now and leave you here—”
“P-please d-don’t do that… I need you so bad.”
He likes how desperate you were becoming for him, a huge smirk spreading across his face.
“Mhm, I love it when you beg for me. Now be a good girl and stay still.”
Confused about why he wanted you to stay still, you were suddenly surprised when he began to slowly push his pulsing cock down your throat. You tried to protest, but he simply said, 
“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full—”
He immediately shoved his entire length down your throat and threw his head back. 
“It’s rude, love.”
He began to face-fuck you against the wall. Tears streamed down your face as you closed your eyes. He aggressively fucked your mouth, relishing the sensation of your throat wrapping around him so tightly.
You were about to reach down and touch yourself, but he quickly stopped you and pinned both of your hands above you. You felt trapped underneath him with nowhere to run or hide, though you didn’t want to escape anyway.
“This isn’t for your pleasure anymore. I’m doing this for my own.”
You moaned around him at his words, and he noticed.
“You love that I’m just using you now? You really are such a pervert.”
Your eyes began to roll back, reaching your breaking point. With so much happening, you felt yourself gasping for air, feeling like you were fading. As he neared climax, you tasted his pre-cum. Just before he came, he pulled out of your mouth. You coughed and heavily breathed, feeling even more lightheaded than before.
“Haechan, I don’t think I can do this—”
“Oh, I’m not done with you, pretty girl.”
He grabbed you by the hair and threw you onto his bed. Removing his shirt and the rest of his clothes, he made sure that both of you were facing the mirror. He pushed your face down and angled your ass into the air. Without hesitation, he shoved his dick into your aching pussy. You let out a moan that was practically a scream.
You looked directly into the mirror, seeing how rough he was being with you. He was starting to lose himself in you. He didn’t know what possessed him to fuck you like this, but he began to enjoy how amazing your pussy felt. You started to grip the sheets on his bed and said,
“P-please don’t stop, Hyuck.”
It was rare for you to call him that, but whenever you did, he absolutely loved it.
“Aww my little pervert starting to become more desperate for me-“
He let out a loud smack against your ass and you shriek in pleasure. He pulled on your hair and whispered into your ear
“You’re absolutely fucking gross for being turned on by this.”
You loved how all your fantasies about him were coming to life. You had always imagined him fucking you hard and deep into his mattress. In this blissful state, your eyes rolled back as your moans became more breathless and ragged. Driven by desire, you aggressively fucked yourself back onto his cock, moving so passionately that he fell back onto the bed, and you rode him.
You were in such a horny state that you couldn’t stop yourself. He wasn’t complaining about how needy you were; in fact, seeing you so desperate turned him on even more. The fact that he was witnessing this raw side of you made him want to come even harder.
“God, baby, you can slow down, you know… I’m going to cum if you keep going like this.”
“F-fuck, I can’t. I wanted this… I’ve wanted you for so long, and I-I can’t hold back anymore.”
His dick twitched in response, and you felt it. You let out a loud whimper and threw your head back. You leaned your back against his bare chest and grabbed your legs, pumping his cock vigorously inside your core. You were practically screaming, not caring if his neighbors heard your moans.
By the end of the night, everyone would know who you belonged to.
“Hyuck, I’m getting close—”
“Mhmm, is that so, baby?”
He swiftly changed positions, now pressing your back against the bed with him on top. He pulled out, and you whined in agony from the emptiness. He laughed, enjoying how needy you were for him.
“God, you’re so cute. I almost don’t want to go back inside.”
“P-please, Hyuck… I want to cum so bad.”
He glanced at the other side of the bed and noticed your vibrator still there. An idea struck him. As he slowly inserted his cock back inside you, he turned on the vibrator and placed it against your clit. You arched your back in pleasure, begging him to bury himself deeper inside you.
He complied, thrusting his cock back into your squelching pussy with relentless force. His strokes were hard and sloppy. He set the vibrator to a faster setting and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your cunt was so wet from the overstimulation that you began to make a mess all over him and the bedsheets. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the scent of his cologne. It reminded you of all the times you hugged him, and you didn’t want to let go.
He kissed and bit all over your neck, and you moaned out in sheer pleasure.
“F-fuck, keep doing that.”
You felt him smirk against your neck as he continued. He moved away from your neck and began to kiss you on the lips. Both of you closed your eyes, lost in the gratification you were giving each other. He realized he was hitting your sweet spot, and you started to yell out in ecstasy. He set the vibrator to the highest setting. Tears welled up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Both of you were on the edge, unable to last much longer.
“Are you close, darling?”
You nodded in response.
He leaned down to your ear and whispered in a deep, husky tone, “Then come for me like the dirty little pervert you are.”
That was the breaking point for you. You moaned louder than ever that night and came incredibly hard on his cock. He followed suit, filling you up with ropes of his cum. He turned off your vibrator and, without pulling out, placed you on top of him once again and let you rest on his chest.
Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to calm down after everything that had happened. You were practically seeing stars, still in disbelief that this was real. He gently stroked your back and asked, “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“To be honest, this was the hardest I’ve ever come. This is the best sex I’ve had in a very long time.”
You immediately regretted saying that, realizing it gave him a huge boost to his ego. He had the biggest smirk on his face.
“Oh really? I will admit I am pretty good, aren’t I? Especially the part when—”
“On second thought, I take it back. It was terrible.”
You both laughed, and he pretended to be offended. Even now, you could lighten up after everything that had transpired between you.
“You weren’t saying that when you were riding my dick.”
There he goes again, making you feel all embarrassed. You hated how much of a chokehold he had on you.
“Whatever.”
He lowered both of his hands to your hips and gripped them tightly.
“A thank you would be nice, you know?”
You rolled your eyes and said, “Fine, thank you. I’m surprised you still want to be my friend after this—”
“Friend?” He said with a distasteful tone, almost as if he were annoyed.
“Honey, after all that happened, I think we're past just being friends.”
Your face started to heat up as you wondered what he meant by that.
“So what are we then?”
“That, I don’t know. But I’m willing to explore and find out with you.”
“So you have feelings for me?”
“I mean, duh. My dick is deep inside you right now, and I don’t do that for just anybody, you know?”
Even in a heartfelt moment, he had to make everything so sexual. You started to wonder if you were the only pervert here.
“But in all seriousness, I’ve always liked you. I just didn’t want to tell you. Plus, my sister would freak out knowing I made a move on you.”
You completely forgot about your best friend.
“Eh, I’ll just tell her I confessed to you and you liked me back. What can she do then?”
You had a point. Besides, your best friend would trust Haechan to be a good boyfriend to you.
“You’re so right. Also, who would’ve known that you were secretly a little pervert for me this whole time,”  he said with a condescending look on his face.
You shuddered at the word.
“Please don’t call me that… it’s embarrassing.”
He laughed at how flustered you were. He noticed he was still inside you and slowly pulled out. Both of your mixed fluids began to seep into his sheets, and he loved it. You rested your head on his chest again, and he patted your head like before.
“Aww, but I love calling you that. You look so adorable.”
“You’re evil, you know?”
“And you love it.”
You hated that he was right. You both spent the night cuddling and enjoying each other's comfort. Eventually, you got a job and decided to live with Haechan since you were now dating. You told his sister about the relationship, and she obviously supported it. You still couldn’t believe that he felt the same way about you after all this time. 
Even after everything that has happened, you would always be a pervert when it came to him…
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thedensworld · 11 days
Text
Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: arrange engagement au
Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?
Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters
Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.
"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.
Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.
"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.
Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.
"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.
You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."
Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."
The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.
A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.
From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.
It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.
"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"
Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.
"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."
Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.
Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.
You were wearing one of his shirts.
"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.
You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.
"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."
Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."
An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"
You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."
Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.
"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"
"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."
You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.
As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.
"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.
He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.
Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.
You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.
Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.
That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.
"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.
"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.
And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.
"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.
You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."
Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.
You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."
Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.
"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.
Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.
When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.
"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.
*
After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.
At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.
One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.
"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"
Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."
The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"
What?
Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."
Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.
They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.
He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.
You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.
Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.
"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."
Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.
But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."
Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.
Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.
"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.
"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.
Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.
Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.
"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.
Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.
Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."
The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.
After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.
As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.
The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.
When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.
As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.
"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."
"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.
He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.
You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.
"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”
He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”
"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.
"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”
You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.
"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.
Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.
As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.
As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.
You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”
He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”
You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.
The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.
There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.
Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”
You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”
Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.
Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”
You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.
He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”
You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.
He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”
Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.
“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”
Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”
You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”
With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.
As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.
*
“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.
“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”
“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”
“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”
It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.
“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”
A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”
Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”
The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”
Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”
You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”
In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.
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i-cant-sing · 16 days
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Time Traveller AU part 12
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
You and Silas stared at each other.
"What do you mean "okay"?"
You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."
He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"
"Why not?"
"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."
Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!
Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."
"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"
He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"
"You dressed as a man."
What?
"What?"
He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"
Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?
"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.
"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"
"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."
"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"
He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."
Murders? Murders-
"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"
"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"
"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."
Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.
"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "
Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."
Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.
-
Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.
When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.
But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.
Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.
Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.
Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.
What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.
"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.
"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.
"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"
"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.
"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."
Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-
"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"
Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.
"Fine."
You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.
"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.
"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"
You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."
"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.
"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.
"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"
"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.
-
After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.
You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.
The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.
You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.
"Please, I just need to-"
"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.
Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.
"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."
He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.
"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.
Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.
Or incombustible.
"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.
You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"
"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"
He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.
Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.
And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.
"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.
"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."
That... sounds like a big coincidence.
"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"
"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.
Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.
"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.
"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.
Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"
You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"
Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.
Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.
So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.
"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-
"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.
Dont be late, missus."
The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?
"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"
You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"
"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.
"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."
"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.
-
You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.
Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.
"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.
You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.
"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.
Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.
"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.
"You gave her a knife?!"
"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"
As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.
"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.
"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.
"This late?" Colin raised a brow.
Ben gave a nod.
"He... he needs a haircut urgently."
Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.
"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."
-
Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.
You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.
Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.
Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.
The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.
It was Silas.
He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.
He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.
"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.
"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"
"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."
"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.
Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."
"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.
So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.
But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.
A palace you're seen quite a few times.
Buckingham palace.
"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.
As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.
Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.
Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.
Why am I here though?
You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?
Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?
Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?
Silas, what game are you playing?
You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.
Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.
Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-
"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"
Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.
You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-
She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.
She looked absolutely beautiful.
Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.
The Queen began speaking.
"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."
"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.
"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."
She turned around and a servant handed her a document.
"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."
Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-
This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.
But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.
And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.
This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.
You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.
"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."
What?
The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.
So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?
Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.
Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."
The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.
"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.
The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.
With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.
"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.
"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.
"This is Y/n, my darling wife."
With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.
Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.
"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.
"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.
-
Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.
Clearing his throat, he got their attention.
"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"
"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."
Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.
"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.
She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.
"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."
"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."
"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."
Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.
But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.
Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?
The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.
And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?
Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.
And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.
-
Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.
"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.
"I um... I'm married."
"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"
"I went on a date with my husband-"
"And who is that?"
You took a deep breath.
"Silas FitzGeorge."
Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.
"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"
You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."
As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.
"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.
"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."
"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"
"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"
As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.
-
Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.
Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.
"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.
Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"
You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.
Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.
The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.
Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.
"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."
You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.
Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.
"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."
Silas's girl?
"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.
Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.
When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.
Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...
Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.
I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.
Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.
Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.
Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.
Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.
-
Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.
"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.
You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."
Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.
"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"
He looked you dead in the eyes.
"Yes."
"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."
He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."
"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.
"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"
Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."
Okay. Fair enough.
You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.
"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.
"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"
"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."
You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"
He shrugged. "Sure."
"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"
He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."
"Where?"
He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."
"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"
He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."
You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"
"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.
"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"
"Silas."
He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."
"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."
"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."
You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."
"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.
"Um, Silas?"
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.
Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.
You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"
"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-
Thud.
You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.
"There." He pointed before returning to bed.
"You want me to sleep on the floor?"
With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."
"Well-"
"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"
"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.
Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.
And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.
-
The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.
"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"
Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."
"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"
Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."
A message?
"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"
Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."
"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"
Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."
"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"
"What now?"
"Can I have some money?"
"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"
"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"
"And why do you need a house?"
You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."
"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.
"What?"
Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"
"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."
"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.
"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?
He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."
Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.
The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."
Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.
"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"
I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."
He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.
Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.
Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.
-
"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"
You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."
Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.
Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.
"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"
You blushed, looking down. "No-"
"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.
"Listen you twat-"
Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"
"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."
Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.
Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."
"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.
"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.
Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.
Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.
When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.
Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.
You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.
As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?
As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.
"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.
You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-
You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?
The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.
-
Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.
"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.
"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"
Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."
"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.
"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.
Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"
Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."
Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."
"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"
Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"
Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"
"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"
"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.
Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.
-
A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.
"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!
You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?
"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.
Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.
"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.
"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."
"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."
"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.
"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.
Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."
Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.
Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."
You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.
"What is it, Silas?"
"The queen is onto us."
"What?"
Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."
You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"
"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"
Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"
"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."
You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"
"We get a Nikkah."
A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-
"No. Silas-"
"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"
You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"
Lose everything? Everything?
You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."
10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.
This is happening. This is really happening.
With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.
Am I really getting married?
You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.
"Are you a Muslim?"
You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-
"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."
No. Oh no-
"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"
"I do."
"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.
"I do."
"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.
"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.
"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"
"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"
Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.
"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!
"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."
House? He gave me a palace!
"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!
And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?
"I do."
Does he believe that this marriage will last?
"I do."
Does he trust you?
"I do."
You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
"Thank you."
-
Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.
He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.
The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.
You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.
You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.
He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.
A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.
Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.
"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.
"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.
Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-
Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."
You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?
The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.
Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."
Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-
"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."
"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.
"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."
"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."
He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"
Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.
"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"
"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."
He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."
"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.
"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.
You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"
"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!
"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!
Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.
"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."
Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.
And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"
As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"
Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"
"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"
"Not with that attitude-"
"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.
"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."
You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?
He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.
Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.
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Thoughts????
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ew-selfish-art · 1 year
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DPx DC AU: Danny learns that he can change his summoning ritual and decides to go chaos mode with it i.e. A viral tiktok trend.
Danny ascends the throne and it's honestly pretty alright as far as new jobs go. He states a few opinions, makes sure no one goes to war and is slowly integrating a community service sentence to Walker's prison. It's not a bad gig, and considering the troves of gold he's now owner of, it doesn't pay too shabby either.
His main problem with the job isn't even his constituents (he likes to think they would vote for him over pariah), it's all these loony death cults! They keep summoning him with Pariah's old cold sign and it's driving him insane- After a very unhelpful smirk by CW, a long study session in GW's library and some help from Ember (she knows drama like no one else) Danny finally has a new summoning ritual.
Of course he swapped out the blood and bone for like, sour gummies and random shit he had in his backpack at the time. A TI-84. And yes, the Latin chant is that one super-fast bit of Rap God preformed to a BTS dance at speed.
But rather than keep this to himself, he gets Sam (who has a thriving plant and protest community following) to record her completing this ritual and Danny being summoned. Why? Cause it was a very specific to Sam skill that they didn't know if people could replicate and it gives Danny some plausible deniability that he tried to make it difficult when CW asks.
Posting it makes it very quickly go viral as people attempt to call it fraudulent but sure enough, Danny is now traveling the world at a moments notice.
Which is great cause it's summer and he's bored in Amity anyway (He's going to change it before he starts university in September, duh), and its even better because the second a lame ass death cult brings him forward to, like, destroy the planet, a slumber party or influencer has already summoned him away. Shit, he even met a few celebrities this way! Plus, turns out that most death cultists aren't able to rap!
Reality hit him pretty hard when he got summoned to an office space that is clearly a base of operations and the summoning spell locked him in. Literally, he has no idea how to get out of this binding spell- Danny definitely hadn't realized that was an option. Taking in the Justice League members in front of him, plus one trench coated menace, Danny groaned for a moment before thinking to ask:
"Wait- Which one of you was able to do Rap God? And the dance? Please tell me someone thought to film that!!"
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andypantsx3 · 5 months
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 3 of 4
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Then
“I want to climb trees, this is so boring,” Touya complained, face down on the sofa.
You flung a piece of plastic pizza at him, laughing when it bounced off his back. Touya turned to give you the evil eye, daggers in his gaze.
“Keigo and Rumi will be here soon, can you just wait?” you asked.
On your other side, Shouto made an unhappy grunt, leaning out from behind you to give Touya a narrow-eyed little gaze. “Y/N is busy. Do not interrupt,” he said primly.
Touya grunted. “Y/N isn’t yours, you little shit. Y/N is my friend.”
Shouto puffed up next to you, little hand gripping your shirt. “Y/N is mine, Touya.” His mismatched gaze was intense where it fixed on his older brother, like he was trying to set him on fire with his eyeballs.
You shifted in between them with years of long practice, blocking their line of sight. Brothers.
“I really want to play house, if only someone would stop arguing and play with me,” you said, making sure to sound extra pathetic. That always got Shouto.
As expected, he immediately abandoned Touya, patting you as if to reassure you. “Of course I will play with you, Y/N,” he pronounced solemnly, like he was declaring some oath of office.
You snorted, turning back to Shouto’s kitchen playset with him. It had been Touya’s first, several years ago when you first visited the Todoroki house. Back then he still deigned to play with it, bossing you around like the alpha of the house, though you didn’t quite think he was going to grow up as one. Then you’d gotten too old for it, preferring video games or board games or ranging around the neighborhood, up to little good.
Today was a rare day that Keigo was permitted to come out and run around the neighborhood with you, but you had to wait for him to get here first with Rumi. And so you’d allowed Shouto to drag you over to the kitchen set while you waited, he its final owner.
“What shall I make you, Mr. Todoroki?” you asked Shouto, shifting the little plastic frying pan around on the wooden stove top. “I make a mean sliced banana. Or a sandwich, or chicken.”
Shouto moved to sit next to you, peering at his options. “I want to make it with you.”
You smiled. “You don’t want me to cook it for you?”
Shouto shook that mop of scarlet and white hair. “I want to do it together.”
You laughed. “Alright, then how about you cut up the veggies for our sides and our sandwich, and I’ll cook the chicken.”
Shouto laid out a myriad of plastic vegetables on the counter, levering his plastic knife through the velcro in their center with great concentration. You tried not to reach out and pinch his cheek for how cute he was. You didn’t understand how Touya got so annoyed with all his younger siblings when they were this sweet.
You got to work frying your plastic pile of chicken, laying it out on fake plates across the carpet when you were done. Shouto carefully placed the sliced vegetables next to it, and then the two of you bent over the pieces of a sandwich, layering in the plastic onion, tomato, lettuce, and bread.
“Shall we make you up a plate, Touya?” you asked. Touya just flashed you a rude gesture from the couch.
“This is only for you,” Shouto insisted, pushing your plate at you. You grinned down at him, passing over the fake cutlery.
“Well thank you, chef Shouto. I am honored to be worthy enough of your cooking,” you said.
Shouto’s little cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed. He pretended to take a bite out of his sandwich, and then a swig out of his fake bottle of milk.
“So, how was work?” he asked, out of nowhere.
You blinked at him, then startled into another laugh. Oh, so he wanted to play real house, like you were married. So funny.
You pretended to take a thoughtful bite of your own meal. “Very busy and tiring,” you said. “I couldn’t wait to come home.”
Shouto scooted a little bit closer to you, pushing some of his fake veggies at you, their velcro innards rolling. “You need to eat a lot to keep your energy,” he pronounced. “Until I can make enough money that you do not have to work so hard.”
You grinned. So he thought he was going to be the breadwinner, huh? Not super traditional for an omega, but times were changing. You couldn’t imagine an alpha who wouldn’t want to provide for sweet little Shouto, though, so that was something he and his life mate were going to have to negotiate.
“We’re already rich, idiot,” Touya said from the couch. “Mom said we all have an inheritance.”
Shouto’s eyebrow twitched, like he was annoyed Touya was intruding on this private domestic discussion.
“Then you can have my inheritance,” he insisted to you, though you knew he had absolutely no idea what that meant.
You pretended to think on this.
“What if I use some of it to open my bookstore, and then pay you back the profits?” you asked.
Touya thought your dream of a bookstore was stupid, so you anticipated his annoyed grunt from the couch. But you still liked the idea of it. Ever since you were little, you’d wanted to own one of the brick-faced shops right along the waterfront, somewhere you could walk to from your house. You’d pile it high with thousands of books and plants and string-lights and have all your friends come over after hours to hang out.
You didn’t want to leave your hometown like so many people did. You wanted to make a home right here on the coast, where you could watch over your mom and hang out with Shouto and Touya and Keigo and Rumi.
Though these days you’d become aware that starting a business required upfront money first. Hopefully you would figure out how to get some by the time you graduated highschool. But the Todoroki inheritance would work nicely for your fantasy bookstore.
“You do not have to pay me back the profits,” Shouto insisted. “If we are married.”
You laughed. “Right, right. Then they’re our profits.”
“This is sickening,” Touya said, his voice muffled into a pillow.
You wiggled your eyebrows at Shouto, considering saying something that would bait Touya, but then the doorbell rang. Touya shot up off the couch, rushing over to let in his saviors.
“Looks like Keigo and Rumi are here,” you told Shouto. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”
Some tiny flicker crossed Shouto’s serious little face, something like annoyance, which you so rarely saw on him. “I want to make it together again.”
You nodded, patting his fluff of multicolored hair. “Yeah, we’ll do it again. Next time we’ll even do dessert, okay?”
Shouto looked momentarily appeased. “And you’ll eat it all. So you have energy.”
You laughed, yanking on one of the strands of his hair fondly. “Absolutely. You take such good care of me, Shouto.”
A pleased little smile turned the corner of his mouth. He placed a hand on your knee as you heard Keigo and Rumi spill into the house, the rustle of Rumi and Touya immediately tussling.
“I will take good care of you always,” Shouto said seriously. “You have my word.”
“I trust it,” you said. And you knew he meant it.
Todoroki Shouto was such a sweet boy, and he was going to make someone a very good not-pretend husband one day. You waved to him as Rumi looped a nut-brown arm over your neck, pulling you outside.
These days, you’d been aware that life was not going to be as stable as you’d always assumed it would be as you grew up. But you hoped you’d still be around to see Shouto grow up too, married and happy like that with his own real life partner some day.
You wondered where you would be when that finally happened.
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Now
The next few days proved a test of your resolution to be normal about Shouto.
Everywhere you went, it seemed like Shouto was there—or maybe you were the problem, finding yourself drawn to wherever he was.
You took meals at the Todoroki house a couple more times, eating them out of house and home like you had as a teen—Shouto always stopping by too to eat something on his way on or off a shift. Twice your morning runs had taken you by the fire station, only to see a pair of mismatched eyes tracking you curiously from the engine bay, burning hot on your back as you quickly scurried away, feeling insane.
Shouto joined Touya when he met you and Rumi and Keigo for drinks one evening, Touya looking just as chagrined to have his baby brother tagging along as he had when you were kids.
“Shouto-duty,” he’d growled, the same as when you were little and he was charged with Shouto’s care. Shouto’s face had gone carefully blank, the paragon of innocence, and you’d laughed as he angled himself into the booth across from you.
Of course you’d quickly shut up when he’d pressed his calf up against yours, his long legs unfurling under the table. You’d quickly jerked your leg aside to make space for him, but he stretched out further, an ankle pressing to yours. He didn’t seem to mind, although it made your face warm for some reason.
Shouto had been good company, and had patiently endured Rumi’s hair ruffling and Keigo’s incessant teasing. He’d even walked you home at the end of the evening, like a protective alpha, even though you were not an omega and could damn well take care of yourself. And he’d lingered as you’d unlocked the door, smiling his tiny, careful little smile, and looking almost like he was waiting for something.
You’d bitten out a strangled good night and quickly barricaded yourself inside the house, lest you do something stupid.
That had the unfortunate effect of making you feel even more like a girl returning home from a date, however, and your mother had been almost beside herself with glee when she’d caught a hint of Shouto’s scent as you’d jerked the door closed behind you.
“An alpha?” she’d prompted again, abandoning her soap opera to lean over the couch arm eagerly.
“It’s just Shouto,” you’d explained hastily, waving your arms, a little loose with the drinks you’d had. “It’s not anything.”
Your mother’s eyebrows had gone up. “I thought he was your child bride.”
You hissed, shushing her, casting a stricken glance at the open window. You hoped Shouto had turned around immediately and gotten out of hearing range or you were going to have to kill your own mother.
“He is like my orderly, helping me off the shuttle back into the retirement home,” you said, turning and emphatically shedding your jacket and shoes, effectively ending the conversation.
But that hadn’t been the end of it. You’d seen Shouto a million times more since then, culminating in a final sighting the night before the run.
You’d ducked out to the grocery, intent on gathering up a day’s worth of supplies for the run. For most people it was over within a few hours—omegas had a thirty minute head start but usually went no further than a mile out, the ritual no longer the strict test of a mate it might have been back before things like showers and wifi and nine-to-fives were invented. But you always went to the coast, a hike of at least an hour or two, and you needed to stay up your tree for at least a few more while the more daring omegas who’d come out around you were summarily hunted down and properly bedded.
With the hike back accounted for, it usually took up most of the day, and you’d long learned your time was best spent with a book, a few bottles of water, and several snacks on hand.
You recognized Shouto’s distinctive mop of hair and broad shoulders as soon as you turned onto the produce aisle. He’d seemed somehow to sense you already—though betas were notoriously harder to scent than omegas—mismatched eyes already pinned to you as you rounded the corner.
You startled, your basket jerking in your grip.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, sidling up to him.
Shouto watched you approach, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Y/N,” he intoned, peering curiously into your basket. A long-fingered, elegant hand reached out to touch the snacks you’d gathered there, everything but the apple you’d been targeting when you’d turned into this aisle.
“For the run?” Shouto guessed, eyes darting back up to catch yours.
You could feel your face flushing in acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of your participation. “Yes,” you said, dredging up a grin. You were happy to see him. “With any luck, and a heaping dollop of guilt, hopefully my last ever. I’m going all out.”
Something flickered behind Shouto’s eyes, a sort of glint you’d never seen before. For some reason the hair on the back of your neck raised. Maybe an alpha thing.
“With any luck,” he repeated, his voice rich, strangely deep.
You wiggled your basket of snacks at him. “What about you? Making preparations for the big day?”
Shouto’s eyes followed the basket as you dropped it back down to your side. “Yes. I was hoping to make something, for after.”
Your eyebrows shot up, a wave of helpless affection for him rising in you. “For your life mate? To take them home to?”
Shouto nodded, his scarlet and white strands falling into his eyes. He was so, so good.
You couldn’t help but reach out and pinch him, right on his rib cage. “You are too pure to be related to your family.”
Shouto blinked, eyelashes fluttering. His gaze was a little darker where it caught yours again. “I would not be so sure.”
You took a step back, slightly startled by this assertion. Another flush heated your cheeks, and you pinched him again for good measure. “Respect your elders’ opinions, brat.”
Shouto’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, catching your fingers in his before you could do too much damage. Your heart hammered to a stop in your chest, your hand suddenly burning beneath his.
“Let me make you something,” he said, his tone dipping low again.
A surprised breath escaped you. “Like lunch? For tomorrow?”
Shouto watched you for a long moment before answering. “That, as well.”
“Oh, then you meant like, for dinner tonight?” You frowned, wracking your brain for his meaning, and coming up short.
That wry little smile played about Shouto’s mouth again. “Yes, dinner tonight, too.”
You squinted at him, unclear what he was trying to do here. “Touya says you’re a shit cook and that’s why you come eat all Rei’s cooking.”
Shouto’s face went pointedly blank. “I am passable.”
“I’ve heard conflicting reports.”
“Then perhaps you can help me.” Shouto’s fingers curled around yours more tightly. “I will purchase, and you direct the operation.”
Your mind suddenly flickered back, catching the wisp of an afternoon years ago, bent over Shouto’s fake plastic cookware, a tiny, round-faced Shouto insisting he’d provide for you. Cooking together, you directing Shouto to cut the plastic veggies along their velcro strips while you diligently fried your plastic chicken. Your heart swelled.
“In the interest of you not food poisoning your life mate your first night together, I’m willing to show you a thing or two,” you said, peering up at him, feeling slightly giddy.
Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I will watch carefully.”
You grinned. “Alright. What are we thinking for meals then?”
It turned out Shouto already had a plan in mind—fried chicken karaage, with marinated vegetable sides, and for lunch some jam-packed wanpaku sandwiches to keep your energy up out in the preserve tomorrow. He made a second pass through the snack aisle, seeming to pull in doubles or triples of everything you’d collected in your basket so far. Then he even snuck in two pieces of chocolate cake in the bakery section, crowned with little dollops of fresh whipped cream.
Shouto dumped your entire basket into his as well, holding you off with a strong arm when you made a grab for it, and ignored your protests all the way through checkout.
“Shouto, that’s my lunch, I should pay,” you insisted, getting a little hot in the face again when he was easily able to fend you off with one arm despite your genuine efforts. God, that was—you needed to not think about that.
“I once promised to take good care of you,” Shouto said, leading the way out of the store. You followed, realizing you had no idea where he lived now.
“You were a baby. You also promised me your entire inheritance,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Plus starting tomorrow you are going to have a life mate to provide for.”
Shouto turned to look down at you, eyes dragging down your face. “I will.”
“Okay then we’re agreed,” you said, digging around in your bag for his change. Shouto’s stride lengthened, however, like he was trying to dodge you. You hurried after him, swearing like Touya, and found yourself all but chasing him towards the waterfront, suddenly freezing when Shouto turned onto one of the shop-lined streets, stopping just before a familiar little brick building.
“Shouto—you live above this?” you asked, creeping forward to look in through the window.
The shop stood empty, as it had the day you’d graduated high school, but you could see it was well-maintained, new flooring installed in a warm light wood and windows shined to crystal clarity. “I used to be obsessed with this place, this is where I thought my bookshop was going to be!” you said, unsure if you were talking to Shouto or yourself.
The soft clink of Shouto’s key paused in the door. “I know,” he said. “I remember you telling me.”
You turned back to him, smiling. “That was a million years ago and you were like, barely out of the womb.”
Shouto’s eyes pinned you with an alarming intensity, grey and blue points burning through you. “I remember everything you have ever told me.”
Your breath wooshed out of you, leaving you startlingly vulnerable. You desperately scrambled for verbal cover. “I—you are so full of it. You weren’t even speaking words yet when I met you.”
Shouto’s mouth quirked again, and he gestured you inside. You followed behind him, trying not to admire the way his broad shoulders filled up the breadth of the stairwell, the way his thighs bunched in his jeans as he took the stairs.
No. That way lay danger.
Shouto’s apartment had the same lovely blonde wood across the floors as the shop downstairs, and a huge bay window overlooking the coast where you imagined you could see the sun come up over the water in the mornings. The rest of the apartment was modern in style, though strangely minimalist, as though Shouto hadn’t filled it with very many of his own things.
“My life mate will need room,” he explained, unloading the groceries on the counter.
Your heart twisted at that, and you purposefully set about drinking in your fill of Shouto’s space before someone else filled it in for him. You admired the large, cushiony couch, chosen as if Shouto had imagined a thousand nights cuddled up on it with someone else, what appeared to be a super old but working fireplace, and the neatly arranged rows of hanging copper pots, which you could tell almost never got used.
It smelled like him, his alpha scent everywhere, like sweet campfire smoke on a cold breeze. It made you want to curl up in here and never leave.
“It’s amazing, Shouto. Your mate is going to just die over this,” you said, totally charmed.
You tried hard to ignore the little tinge of jealousy souring your gut.
Shouto’s gaze flashed up to yours, his long fingers arranging the groceries neatly on his countertops. “I would prefer if no one died,” he said solemnly.
You laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“I had hoped you would like it,” Shouto said, something pleased in his deep tone.
“I love it. You’ll have to invite me back over next time I’m in town,” you said.
Shouto’s fingers hesitated over a tomato, and a small, shy sort of smile pulled at his mouth as he peered down at it. “Perhaps even sooner.”
You blinked, mystified. You weren’t going to have time before you left for the city again, not with the run tomorrow, and definitely not if Shouto spent the traditional several days curled up here with his life mate afterwards.
“Yeah sometime,” you said vaguely, trying not to think too hard on it.
You had sort of enjoyed being Shouto’s favorite when you were kids, your time and attention prioritized even above Touya’s. But Shouto was all grown up now and it was time for him to have a new favorite—you probably hadn’t been his since you’d graduated and disappeared into the city to generate parental support money. It had been years.
“Anyway let’s get this stuff prepped, sous-chef Shouto,” you said, coming around the counter to his side. “I’m thinking the old plan of attack—you slice the veggies, I’ll fry the chicken?”
Shouto’s mouth pulled in a wider smile than you’d seen in a long time, a heart-stoppingly handsome flash of white. You gripped the counter carefully.
“I’d like that,” he said.
He set himself up with a knife and a cutting board, and set you up with a few small bowls for breading, flour, and egg. You noticed he sliced his vegetables a little more dexterously than the velcro veggies of years past—though certainly not expertly. The two of you worked in easy tandem as you whisked the egg, then laid all your chicken pieces out as you waited for the pot on the stove to warm.
The peace was only broken when Shouto suddenly leaned over you, bringing with him a puff of that delicious campfire scent. Your breath reflexively seized in your lungs as you froze, hyperaware of him as his hand went to the side of your hip. He gently pulled you out of range of one of his drawers, moving you like you were an expected piece of his kitchen—like his life mate he was long-used to dancing around, pressing close enough that you could feel the heat of him.
Something like electricity spiked across all of your nerve endings. You tried not to shiver with the feeling of Shouto’s soft exhale over your shoulder, the heavy weight of his hand on your hip as he slid open one of his drawers.
It took you a few moments to recover enough that you realized he’d been pulling out plastic wrap. He hadn’t been curled over your back just for the intimacy of it—god, you were such a fucking creep.
You peeled yourself out of Shouto’s hands and beat a hasty retreat to his fridge, scrounging around for the ingredients you’d need to make the vegetable seasonings. The warm kabocha and fried chicken were going to make perfect leftovers for Shouto and his mate to scarf down after a windy run along the coast tomorrow.
Maybe you’d try to make something similar when you made it back to your mom’s tomorrow. Although, come to think of it, you didn’t really want to be reminded of Shouto stuffed up back here with someone else.
A frown pulled at your mouth, and you pinched your thigh, gathering yourself back together. What Shouto did with his own life mate was none of your business. You needed to remember that.
When Shouto finished cutting up the vegetables you helped him arrange everything into two enormous sandwiches, then covered in plastic wrap and stowed in his fridge to set. He watched you carefully as you fried the chicken, hovering closely behind you like a tall, handsome shadow. You fought against some strange impulse to lean back against his chest, watching the chicken burble in the oil with an intense focus. Shouto didn’t seem to mind the sudden quiet, smiling a small half-smile when you turned back to him.
When it seemed ready, you fished the chicken out, setting it on paper towels to absorb the excess. Shouto followed you, taking hold of your face as you turned back to him.
You froze for the second time, pulse racing, as his fingers came up to brush along your cheek, just under your eye. The touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze swept over you assessingly. He seemed to linger for a long moment—until he came away with flour across his thumb.
A weird sense of disappointment twisted your gut as Shouto looked it over. How embarrassing.
“Oh, thanks,” you managed to say, swiping at your face yourself.
Shouto’s mouth quirked softly. “As I said, I did once promise to take care of you.”
Your face went warmer, and you deliberately did not think about how much you liked that. The only person taking care of you was you, and it was going to have to be that way for the foreseeable future. Flour was only flour.
“Again, you were a baby. You needed taking care of more than me,” you accused.
Shouto shifted closer, an intent look settling over his features. “I am not a child any longer.”
That much was upsettingly clear these days. But that was beside the point.
“Neither of us are,” you agreed. “And I assure you, other than the occasional flour mishap, I am excellent at taking care of myself now. You on the other hand, with all these unused pots…”
Shouto’s eyes lingered on your face. To your horror he absently brought his thumb to his mouth, tongue barely flicking out to lick the flour—and that ended the discussion immediately.
Your face immediately flamed, overcome with shit you absolutely should not be thinking, and you shooed him away to fetch plates. Shouto let himself be shooed, looking contemplative.
When he returned with plates, you busied yourself serving up two large portions of rice, followed by crispy golden fried chicken, cucumber salad, and soft, steaming kabocha. It all looked excellent, if you did say so yourself, practically Michelin-starred compared to the plastic meal you’d made together all those years ago.
Shouto led you over to the coffee table and you both took positions on the floor, your back against his couch.
“This reminds me so much of when we were little,” you said, grinning. “Except the couch is mercifully devoid of any complaining.”
The indent at the side of Shouto’s mouth deepened. “I prefer the lack of Touya as well.”
You laughed, biting into your chicken, pleased when it tasted as good as it looked. Hopefully Shouto’s life mate was going to love it. Shouto looked like he liked it too, his long eyelashes fluttering over the tops of his cheekbones as he chewed. Your stomach flipped.
“So how was work?” you asked Shouto, flipping the script on him from when he was younger.
An electric blue eye cut sideways towards you, like he remembered too.
“Very busy and tiring,” he repeated, almost an exact parroting of your words, if you remembered correctly. “I could not wait to come home.”
“You really do remember a lot,” you said, impressed.
Shouto took a mouthful of squash, chewing neatly. Was it normal to look that pretty when eating?
“As I said,” he said, something slightly smug in his voice.
You rolled your eyes—Todorokis—and took your own mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully.
“You’re so similar and yet so different,” you informed him when you’d finished. “I’m sad I missed you graduating school, and the academy. You’ve really grown up into an amazing person, Sho.”
Shouto’s chopsticks wavered over his plate, and a pink flush stained his cheeks.
“I had always wanted you to think so, when we were younger,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on his plate.
You smiled. “You were so cute. I was always going to think so. Even when I thought you were going to grow up an omega and had no idea what career you might have wanted. You were just good, I think.”
The tip of Shouto’s ear went red, almost matching the left side of his hair.
You couldn’t help but continue, warmed by how much the praise clearly meant to him. “Touya was my best friend but I liked spending the time with you, even though you were that much younger. I am sorry I haven’t been able to stick around and spend more of it with you.”
Shouto took a deliberate bite of rice, like he was calming himself.
“Your job in the city,” he said, when he finished. “Do you like it?”
You shook your head, snorting. “It’s fine. If I had a say I’d be running that storefront just below us, but my job is at least guaranteed money for mom. I don’t mind, though I do regret not coming back here enough.”
Shouto seemed to take a moment to think on this. “But you would quit it, if you could,” he said.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But like I said, it’s not so bad. And it’s pretty good money for a single income if I do say so myself.”
Shouto turned to watch you. “It would be easier if you had your life mate,” he said.
You paused, considering the weight of this statement. “Well yeah. But as you know, not everyone finds theirs. And as a beta I’m sort of stuck waiting for my life mate to find me—I’ve sometimes wondered if any of those alphas I hid up a tree from were actually it, all those years ago. But something tells me no. So I’m doing my own thing in the meantime.”
“Do you hope to find your life mate, this time?” Shouto asked, pinning you with an intense look. He’d abandoned his food it seemed, watching you with singular focus. It was slightly unnerving.
You wondered how best to answer without making him pity you.
“I’ve always hoped, but I’ve never counted on it,” you said. “But one thing is for certain—I wouldn’t accept just anyone. I’m not going to end up like my parents did.”
Shouto’s fingers shifted on the table top, and he seemed to be holding them out to you. You carefully placed your hand in his, gratified when his hand closed over yours, thumb smoothing your skin.
“You are not,” Shouto said, sounding sure. “You will have a life mate who has cared for you and will care for you his whole life.”
He sounded like he meant it. He was so sweet all these years later.
You flushed, embarrassed by his declaration. “Okay. I’ll—trust you on that.”
Shouto looked satisfied, letting your hand go so you could return to your food. You both scarfed down the rest of your meals, like the two of you were storing up enough energy for tomorrow, and then Shouto pressed a slice of chocolate cake on you, too, insistent.
He watched you eat it with the supervisory focus of a mother—or an alpha with his omega, a thought that you immediately put back out of mind.
You let him feed you too much, happy for the extra time in his company, laughing and chatting and reliving shared memories. You insisted on helping him with the dishes, too, washing everything as he packed up the leftovers, and then sorted out your prepared sandwich and the snacks he’d purchased for you. He didn’t let you out of his sight even as he did so, moving in front of you to block your access to your bag when you remembered you owed him money.
Shouto kept hold of it on the way to the door, too, so you couldn’t dig out cash and fling it before running out—he really did know too much about you after all these years.
Once he surrendered your bag to you, he leaned forward, fingers finding the side of your face again, cupping it and turning it up to his.
You went perfectly, embarrassingly still in his hold, breath coming short. His thumb smoothed across your cheek, and a private little smile pulled at his mouth.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, his tone rich and dark, like the chocolate cake you’d just had.
You barely resisted a shiver, having to manually kickstart your lungs again, breathing in and out deliberately.
“Only if your life mate goes so far,” you said. “I hope for your sake they keep things easy.”
Shouto’s smile widened a bit. “They will not.”
You tried not to be too irritated at whoever it was. Only an idiot would make it so hard for an alpha like Todoroki Shouto.
“Well then, good luck,” you told him. “I’ll be on the lookout for you from my tree. And I’ll have snacks if you need them.” You rattled your bag.
Shouto’s eyes roved over your face, something warm in his gaze. “You will see me,” he said. “Though I do not plan to need any luck.”
Okay that was—he was not allowed to be that confident. That damn omega had no idea how lucky they were.
It took everything you had to wrench yourself away from him, only the knowledge that he was meant for someone else carrying you away. You made yourself salute him, smiling. Then you bid him good night, promising to text him when you got in, and scurried off to your mother’s house, trying to put yourself on the right track again.
You scolded yourself as you readied for bed, dropping a kiss on your mother’s head as you passed her asleep on the couch. You would not be a weenie about this. You were, at least, glad that Shouto was going to find his happiness tomorrow.
Even if you envied them even more tonight after seeing the life Shouto had built for them to share. Even if you wished, despite all odds, that you could find a life mate to share yours, too.
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lujingheswife · 11 months
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eyes of silver and gold
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soulmate au! everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural colour the other is your soulmate’s natural colour. once you meet eye contact, all eyes return to its natural colour.
featuring: neuvillette
word count: 1075
cw: soulmate!au, reader is a liyue adeptus, gn!reader, reader’s eyes are GOLD because GOLD, traveler can be lumine or aether (they/them pronouns), intentional lowercase, not proofread
author’s notes: super duper rushed IM SORRY,,,, this could be written better but yeah 😭😭 i’ll do better next time !!! (i love soulmate aus)
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
neuvillette blinked at the reflection of himself on the mirror for the nth time. it was not the first time he had done so, but every time he observed the eyes of the citizens of fontaine it made him question what made his soulmate so special.
because one thing for sure, he was almost certain his soulmate was not human.
the chief justice knew the eyes of a human when he sees one. their round iris, and the common eye colours of brown or blue could easily tell that they’re merely human.
however, his soulmate’s eye replacing his left one did not look like the eyes of a human. it was an unnatural colour, usually similar to the eye colours of those who wield a vision. what caught his attention though, was the pattern of his soulmate’s eye that stood out amongst the others. like how his eyes are of a dragon’s, and lady furina’s eyes are of dewdrops, his soulmate’s eye, igniting a warm colour, shouted gold.
the first thing he had in mind was the land of gold where the geo element usurper resided. he knew liyue was a land of the adepti, where many immortals who once battled in the archon war still lived in the mountains of amber.
yet for centuries living as the hydro dragon, he had never once encountered his soulmate.
was it because of the distance between them? it was understandable, after all, for an adeptus to remain loyal to their homeland.
he had visited liyue a few times but failed to find this soulmate of his. maybe they were not residing in liyue after all?
neuvillette chose to let fate decide.
he heaved a small sigh as he turned away from the mirror, back to his office desk to continue checking the documents for the next trial.
“monsieur neuvillette!” a loud, squeaky voice which he knew belonged to a certain floating alien chimed through the door. he watched as surprisingly, only paimon, flew her way into his office with an excited expression.
he blinked confusedly at her unusual demeanour. “miss paimon,” he called, “how may i assist you today?”
he allowed her to take her time as she panted heavily. “your—“ she looked up at him and he swore he saw her eyes sparkling a lot brighter than usual. “my?” he asked.
“soulmate! we found your soulmate!! they’re outside!” paimon exclaimed excitedly.
neuvillette’s world stopped for a millisecond, for he had not known that his soulmate had just traveled kilometres from the southern liyue to the northern fontaine. he did not realize his legs moved on his own, allowing paimon to drag him by the sleeve towards the outside of the opera house.
“monsieur?” he heard paimon called before snapping himself out of his thoughts. he noticed her looking at him in concern, realizing he had stopped his tracks right by the door. “are you okay?” she asked.
is he okay? he wondered the same.
he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, as if someone— or something, was banging the drums inside. he felt the drums getting louder and faster, and he could not feel his legs anymore.
he inhaled sharply. “i’m perfectly fine, miss paimon,” he paused in between, “well, let’s meet my… soulmate, shall we?”
his gaze turned towards the entrance of the door, sensing the melusine looking at him eagerly as she patiently waited for him to get ready. “monsieur neuvillette! are you going out?” she asked.
he nodded. “yes, i am. thank you very much.”
the melusine by the door clapped her hands excitedly as she immediately skipped towards the door knob before opening it for him. “well then, enjoy meeting them, monsieur!”
neuvillette watched the door opens before the light outside instantly came greeting him in an embrace.
and the first thing that entered his vision was a pair of heterochromatic eyes that matches his.
you were there with the traveler, dressed in foreign attire not befitting of fontaine. your vision clinging onto your waist like a proud medal. you were by the entrance, surrounded by melusines who were saying how your eyes match their chief justice. he watched how your confused expression tries to have a conversation with the little melusines while the traveler laughed next to you.
the cute moment did not last when the melusines notice the presence of their chief justice, immediately rushing towards him excitedly wanting to ask him about his soulmate. yet his widened eyes had locked with yours, watching your eye adorned with his blueish-purple colour slowly changing back to gold— the familiar gold that greeted him every morning in front of the mirror.
“monsieur neuvillette! your eyes!” he heard a melusine exclaimed, their hands holding his sleeve as they jumped happily.
he blinked confusedly at the tugs of his sleeves when a melusine appeared with a mirror in their hands. they showed a reflection of himself where his eyes were back to his original form— the mixture of silver, blue and purple.
he averted his attention to his soulmate who seemed to be doing the same. you were looking at your own reflection, realizing your eye has reverted to its original form. he watched your surprised expression until you noticed his attention had diverted towards you.
your flushed expressions felt a little foreign to the iudex of fontaine, but he was certainly relieved at the sight of your comfortable state in a foreign region.
he gave you a sincere smile as he placed a hand over his chest as a form of greeting.
“greetings. i’m neuvilette, chief justice and iudex of fontaine. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
since birth, neuvillette never understood the concept of soulmates until he was given a chance to experience such phenomenon. from when he had awoken to a change in his appearance to encountering the partner that was given to him by fate, it was a surprise that a being like him could have one too.
in fact, his own soulmate was not mortal either. an adeptus originating from the land of gold, you began your exploration in the continent with the fellow traveler when they could not stop persuading you to follow them to meet someone.
a smile was formed on your lips in return as you introduced your name to him, which sounded nice to his ears. “and it’s a pleasure to meet you too, mister neuvillette.”
maybe he could give this concept a try.
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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kookslastbutton · 6 months
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii
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✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)
series masterlist | next >>
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You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.
A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.
Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.
More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.
What is wrong with you?
You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.
That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.
‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’
‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’
These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.
You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.
Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]
Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.
You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]
You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.
Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.
Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.
Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.
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“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."
The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.
“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."
Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”
You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.
"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"
Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.
"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."
"Because of the divorce you mean?"
"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.
Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.
"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."
When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.
"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."
"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."
You pause to take a breath before continuing.
"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."
"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."
The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.
"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.
"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"
"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."
Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.
"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."
"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."
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It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."
Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.
Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.
Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.
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"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.
"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."
Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.
As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.
Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.
How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.
You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.
Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.
"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.
"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."
You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.
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The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.
Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.
Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.
Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.
Reluctantly, you complied.
Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]
"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.
"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"
"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"
"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"
Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?
You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.
You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.
"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.
But wait a minute.
You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.
Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?
Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.
You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.
“Tae-” you begin.
He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.
“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”
Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.
“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”
“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.
“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.
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With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.
You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.
Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.
Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.
“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”
Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.
“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"
"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."
You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.
“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."
Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.
“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."
“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"
Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.
This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.
“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.
Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.
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As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?
"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.
You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.
His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.
"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."
You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.
"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"
You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.
As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."
"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.
The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.
"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.
"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"
"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"
Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.
"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.
"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."
"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.
"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"
Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"
"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."
Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."
You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"
His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"
"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.
"I'm sorry, __. I am."
You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?
"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."
You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.
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a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍
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