#the long awaited au has finally started

[rabbits-of-habit]

𝘕𝘰𝘢𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘭 ( ˢˡᵉⁿᵈᵉʳᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ˣ ᴬˡᶦᶜᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵂᵒⁿᵈᵉʳˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵘ )

[holybibly]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt. 

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

 

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth. 

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man. 

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy. 

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin.   "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what  if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder. 

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips. 

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know.   You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself. 

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock. 

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them. 

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says.   You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out.   Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you.   It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone. 

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

[2hightocare]

UNEXPECTED NEWS!

Synopsis: Pregnant with your first child, how do you plan on dropping the news to your husband?

Genre: married au! KUWTB!

Warnings: whole lotta fluff.. cussing, mentions of sex, playful banter, found family… just fucking fluff bye.

a/n: well long awaited drabble.. I honestly adore all of them so much… Jungkook and oc were being extra cutesy (they usually play fighting all the time) in this.. enjoy🤍 ps I’m high as fuck so ignore all mistakes.

ask! KUWTB💌

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Your best friend whispers, Eunbi stares at you with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.

You had been feeling weird these past few days, from your emotions being all over the place to throwing up whenever you ate something. Jungkook was worried about what was wrong, but you just told him that you were on your period, which was a lie since you hadn’t had it in some time now.

So, here you are, sitting against the wall in the bathroom of Eunbi’s house with a positive pregnancy test in your hand. “I’m going to be an auntie!” Eunbi dances in front of you, her blonde hair coming undone from her bun.

“Oh my god, I’m pregnant.” It finally clicks in your brain that a small human is forming in your belly at this very moment, tears start streaming down your face.

You and Jungkook have been married for five years now. When you first got married, you both said you would enjoy your marriage and have fun. And that’s exactly what you did; you traveled a lot, went out to parties until five in the morning, did spontaneous stuff all the time.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Eunbi rushes to your side, kneeling down in front of you, lifting your face up. “Are these happy tears or sad tears?” She asks, her thumbs wiping your tears away, ruining your makeup.

“Both.” You sniffle, your eyes finally meeting her hazel eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?” Eunbi asks slowly, trying to read your expression.

Eunbi has been your best friend since college days; she was your dorm roommate. You both majored in the same thing, meaning you guys had almost every class together.

“It’s just that..” you pout, as the tears continue to fall.

“I’m happy, I’m really happy. But Kook and I haven’t talked about having a baby anytime soon. I don’t know how he’ll react.” You explain, as Eunbi only nods her head.

“Y/n, that man loves you so much, it’s even absurd what he would do for you. Knowing him, he would literally jump off a cliff for you. I don’t think he’ll react badly, but if he does, I’ll have the guys throw him off the cliff. Anyways, he loves you a lot with a baby or without a baby.” Eunbi says, helping you stand up before hugging.

“How do you think I should tell him?” You sniffle, as Eunbi chuckles, letting go of you.

“Pregnancy reveal plan in the making!” Eunbi says.

“And can we get out of here, this is where Yoongi takes his shits, it kinda smells bad,” Eunbi scrambles to the door, which has you laughing, following her lead out of the bathroom.

…

It’s been two days since you found out you were pregnant, but you haven’t told Jungkook anything yet. Eunbi and you planned a way of telling him the day you found out, so here you are, nervous as hell in Jungkook's car, trying to calm your nerves.

After a couple of minutes, you step out of the car with your shoulder bag and some shopping bags. You lock the car behind you and make your way to the main door.

“Hi baby, how did it go?” Your husband greets you the minute you walk in from the couch. “What did you buy?” Jungkook pauses the show he was just watching, putting all his attention on you, making grabby hands for you to go to him.

“Want a haul?” You giggle, making your way to him who pats his lap for you to sit on, which you do after dropping the bags beside him.

“Better have used my card,” he gives you a glare which you only roll your eyes playfully, reaching for your Prada bag before pulling out his black card and handing it to him. “Keep it, you use it more than me,” waves you off, giving your neck a wet kiss.

“Did the girls not go? I was on the phone with Taehyung, and he said Ari was making dinner.” Jungkook gives your thigh a squeeze, helping you adjust in his lap. “Ari said she was really busy with work, and Lora was taking care of Jiho since Jin is working.” You explain, running your fingers through his messy curls.

“You went by yourself? I could’ve gone with you, baby.” Jungkook pouts at you, which you shake your head with a smile. “Eunbi went with me, plus you had work,” You squeeze his cheeks.

“Tsk, I missed you,” He smiles, pulling your face closer to his before connecting his lips to yours. Your eyes immediately flutter closed, mirroring his smile against your lips.

“I have to show you something.” You bring up, your stomach doing a turn. “Show me,” He smiles, patting your thigh, before you climb off his lap, reaching for the shopping bags.

“Are you going to give me a haul?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, which you only wink back as a response.

“So, I got a lot of makeup,” you say, showing him every product you got, which he listened to carefully even though he had no clue what half of the stuff you bought is used for. “I got us these, so we can all match,” you pull out the biggest Nike shoe box first, passing it to your husband.

“These are sick as fuck,” Jungkook holds up the black and white high tops. “Let me see yours.” He motions to the other box in the bag; you hand him your shoe box. Instead of high tops, they’re low instead.

“Super cute, they match your outfit right now,” He says about your pink long sleeve bodysuit. “They do, don't they,” You say, cracking your fingers nervously to show him the much smaller box in the bag.

“Oh, who’s this one for?” Jungkook reached for the small box, opening it to be met with tiny matching shoes. “Are these for Jiho? I don’t think they would fit him,” Your husband brings up the only child in the family as he holds the tiny shoe in his palm.

“They’re not for Jiho..” You nervously say, as you dig into your bag, pulling out the positive pregnancy test.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Jungkook's mouth hangs open as he stares at your teary eyes. You shake your head, tears start falling down your eyes watching your husband that’s stuck in place with wide eyes.

“I’m going to pass out, baby, are you serious?” Jungkook's face scrunches up as tears fill his eyes, “baby, you’re pregnant?” He drops the shoes and moves closer to you, his hands holding your face waiting for you to say something.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” You sniffle with a smile, reaching to wipe your husband's tears. Before you know it, he jumps up, fist bumps the air, and starts screaming.

“Fuck yes!” He shouts to the air as he runs around the house as you burst out laughing, “I’m going to be a dad, oh my fucking god!” He runs back to pick you up from the carpet, smashing his lips on yours, spinning around.

“You’re going to be a mommy, you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” Jungkook says between each kiss he leaves all over your face, making you giggle. You felt stupid for even worrying in the first place how he would react.

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Jungkook sets you down, “Baby, it’s been two days since I found out,” You say,

“You knew for two days and you didn’t tell me?” He gasps dramatically, “I was thinking about how to tell you,” you reassure him, which he only nods, giving you a big fat kiss.

“Do you think it’s too soon to buy his crib right now?” Jungkook asks enthusiastically.

“Jeon..” you give him a look, “yes it’s too early and don’t call it ‘he,’ we don’t know what it might be,” you say, before getting on your tiptoes, leaving a kiss on his lips, leaving him in the living room making your way to the kitchen.

“You just called him and ‘it,’ that's so much worse!” Jungkook argues, following behind you.

…

“Your handwriting is shit, to say the least,” you say as your husband writes on the small index card. “You have a way to flirt with me, baby, thank you so much, I love you too,” he says as he glares up at you before returning to writing on the card.

“Do you even think they’ll open the cookies?” You pop your hip out, watching your husband. “You know they only come to our house for the cookies, right? They don’t give a fuck about us,” Jungkook bites a laugh as you pout. “Well, now I don’t want to tell them shit,” you joke, staring at the words on the card.

“Do you even think they’ll understand that? They’re a little slow,” Jungkook wraps his hand over your shoulder, messing up your perfectly curled hair. “Um, they'll figure it out, they got a Joonie to help them,” you shrug before stealing a cookie from the packet and running off.

“I’m so hungry,” Lora says, her hand on her stomach as if that would silence the growling happening inside.

“There are cookies on the counter,” you point to the kitchen, which Jungkook smirks at you.

With that, everyone stands up, dashing to the kitchen, acting like they never had a cookie in their life. You truly had no idea how all of you became obsessed with chocolate chip cookies; all of your guys' houses have a bunch of packages lying everywhere to eat. It was common and normal for all of you; for others, it might seem bizarre seeing grown adults fight over cookies.

“I swear cookies taste so much better in Kook's house,” Jimin rants as he watches Hoseok open the bag, stopping in his tracks as he reads the note. Lora and Ari try reaching in for a cookie, completely ignoring the note but getting swatted away by Namjoon.

“Y/n is pregnant!” Namjoon shouts, which sends everyone's mouths hanging open. “You’re fucking joking!” Seokjin gasps as he runs towards you and Jungkook, embracing you in a tight hug.

“Oh my god, they really got down to business,” Taehyung says, getting a swat from Lora who’s glaring at him before pointing her eyes at Jiho beside her. “Am I the only one who doesn’t get the note?” Jimin says as he reads the card, as everyone congratulates and hugs you and Jungkook.

“Eat up, mommy Y/n doesn’t want to be the only one with a belly, love baby!” Jimin reads the card, holding it up in the air after he’s done reading it.

“I told you someone was not going to know what it meant,” Jungkook whispers into your ear, only for you to hear, which makes you chuckle under your breath.

“You’re just mad I had to explain it to you,” you whisper back, which gets you a kiss on your cheek.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

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

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

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

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

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [6]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4k

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

Part 5 | Fic Masterlist | Part 7

"Please enjoy your meal, master and mistress. We hope the dishes are to your liking." The servants bowed before leaving the hall after serving dinner for the night.

Sitting up straight, hands folded on your lap, you patiently awaited Seonghwa to begin eating. The enticing aroma of the dishes made your mouth water, and your eyes gleamed as you observed your husband's hands reaching for his chopsticks.

He noticed your gaze, smiled, and rather than taking a piece of meat for himself, he surprised you by placing it in your bowl instead, "Eat up; you must be hungry."

The general sighed as he saw you hesitating to start eating until he had taken the first bite. Amused, he set down his chopsticks and watched as you slumped in your seat, seemingly disappointed that he hadn't begun eating yet.

"Why are you still sitting around? Go ahead and eat," He said, and your eyes widened, "But, my lord, how can I—"

Shaking his head, he picked up his spoon and reached for a tofu dish he had noticed you eyeing for some time, scooping up just enough before holding it to your lips, "Here, you want this, don't you?" Before you could protest, he pushed it closer to you, "Open up before I change my mind," and you couldn't resist, taking a bite.

Eunsook couldn't help snickering into her fist as she witnessed the adorable interaction. You chewed cluelessly on your food, eyes sparkling as you savoured the flavour, while Seonghwa continued to eat with the same spoon, indirectly sharing a kiss with you.

Throughout dinner, your husband focused more on taking care of you, he filled your bowl with a variety of dishes and wiped the corners of your lips whenever your excitement caused a mess. After finishing his own meal, he continued to watch you with admiration as you kept eating.

Concern crept in when he noticed your movements slowing down, and you started breathing rather heavily. It seemed like you were already full but were pushing yourself to eat more, "Hey, slow down. Are you full? You need to stop eating if you are."

You shook your head, reaching for another slice of rolled omelette. Furrowing his brows, he realised you were struggling to swallow. Why were you continuing to eat if you were already so full? It was as if you didn't know when your next meal would be, and you were trying to consume as much as possible for the time being.

"Stop, stop," He repeated firmly, gently holding your wrist and taking the chopsticks from your hand, "Look at me," You took your eyes off the food and finally met his gaze, "Are you afraid you won't get to eat again?" You avoided eye contact and that confirmed his suspicion, it broke his heart to see you still in survival mode.

Feeling like you had done something wrong, you bowed your head and nervously fiddled with your fingers, "I-I'm sorry... I just have never had a proper meal like this before, a-and..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," He assured, moving to hold your hands and rubbing his thumb over your skin comfortingly, "You're the mistress of this estate now. You can eat anything you want at any time. All you have to do is call for the servants, and they will serve you. As long as I live, you never have to worry about not being able to eat again, you hear me?"

You nodded, moved by the sincerity in his tone and the warmth in his touch and gaze, "I understand. Thank you, my lord."

However, he seemed unsatisfied with something you said, contemplating for a moment before murmuring, "Seonghwa. Just Seonghwa, please."

Your eyes widened, "Wh-what?"

He looked away from your questioning gaze, embarrassed, "You're my wife now, there's no need to be so formal. Just call me Seonghwa from now on."

"Okay... S-Seonghwa." You muttered unsurely, suppressing the blush on your cheeks as he lifted his eyes to stare at you in wonder.

Little did you know, the sound of his name coming from you melted his heart, further deepening the growing affection he had for you. Though it had only been a day or two since he met you, and despite his initial misguided disdain, once he learned the truth about you, an irrational desire to protect you took root within him. For the first time in forever, he found someone worth caring for.

As much as the head maid enjoyed watching the two of you exchange deep gazes all night, the rest of the servants in charge of the dining hall were waiting to clear up and get some rest.

With a loud clearing of her throat, she finally broke you both out of your little staring contest, "Master, mistress, are you finished with dinner? It's getting rather late now, we should probably make haste and clean up the hall before we attract all sorts of insects."

Suddenly remembering that you weren't alone in the hall, the general swiftly collected himself from his slightly flustered state, "Of course, send the maids in. Is the mistress' new quarters prepared?" He checked with Eunsook, moving to help you out of your seat with your hand still in his.

The elderly woman, with a concealed smile, nodded and bowed, "It is, master. I'll leave it to you to show mistress to her room then."

You waved to her as you followed your husband out of the hall, "Thank you for the food, Eunsook. Please tell the kitchen staff they did a wonderful job; every dish was incredibly tasty!"

She nodded with a beam, bowing again, "Yes, mistress. They'll be happy to hear that."

Leading you along, Seonghwa made an effort to appear composed, attempting to hide the joy he felt from walking with your hands intertwined. The passing servants were surprised at the rare sight of their master and mistress walking hand in hand. As they bowed, their smiles widened when you waved at them, and the general's soft chuckle didn't escape their notice.

It amused them how resolute he had initially been about getting rid of you, and now he seemed to have a hard time tearing his eyes away from you for even a moment.

"Come on, you'll love the new quarters," He said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You raised your eyebrows, "But what about my previous room? That was fine too."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at the sudden reminder of The Cold Palace, "Well, I may have broken the door, but that's not the point. The point is that you are now officially my wife, and Lady Park deserves nothing but the best, understood?" You nodded, simply feeling grateful for everything.

"We're here. Welcome to the House of Lotus."

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the beautiful private garden surrounding what was to be your new quarters. A pavilion on the right of the main chamber faced a small pond filled with lotus flowers, "You can relax over there, have some tea and read when the weather is good. This is all yours. If you ever need me for anything, I'm just down the path; we're practically neighbours."

The general panicked when he saw your eyes welling up with tears, releasing your hand to grasp your shoulders, "D-do you not like it? We can arrange a different one for you if you want—"

Shaking your head, you sniffled, "N-no, it's not that. I j-just can't believe this is really all mine. Th-thank you so much, Seonghwa..."

He breathed out in relief, pulling you into his arms as you cried into his neck, "What did I say, you silly girl? Only the best for you." He gazed around in satisfaction; he had intentionally requested his maids to arrange the room closest to his private quarters, wanting to be near you.

Aside from that, the abundance of lotus flowers in this specific area earned it the nickname House of Lotus. Known for its connection with purity, rebirth, and divinity, the lotus flower symbolises rising from a dark place into beauty and rebirth, mirroring its growth process. This was precisely what the general had envisioned for you—a metaphorical representation of new beginnings and a fresh start.

"Master, we have come to prepare mistress for bed. Do we have permission to proceed?"

"Of course, I'll leave you to it then." Your husband had no choice but to leave you as the group of servants assigned to you for the night arrived, hands carrying bath supplies, Yunho's prepared ointment for your wounds, and a fresh piece of nightgown.

"Have a good rest tonight, my dear. We're paying the dressmaker a visit tomorrow; we're getting you new clothes." He pressed a firm kiss onto your head and did not leave until he was sure you had entered the room, reluctantly heading towards his study to wait for updates from Jongho.

Reaching for the Jang family records he had hidden from you earlier, he got back to work. With the week off granted by the King for him to celebrate his wedding, Seonghwa was determined to gather as much intel as he could before setting his plans into motion, "Just you wait, minister. Savour the peace while you still can."

Just when the general believed he had prepared himself to learn the extent of the abuse you had endured throughout your life, he managed to keep his rage in check as he listened to the harrowing details. However, nothing could have prepared him for the new revelation that his aide brought to him.

His disgust for the Minister of Military Affairs, already intense, reached new heights with the secret he had just uncovered. The assistant bowed his head as his master broke into a grin of disbelief, "And here, I thought I was labelled the heartless monster. Clearly, the minister is the rightful owner of the title."

Pointing towards the copy of your family records on his desk, Seonghwa inquired, "What about this? Have you been able to confirm the suspicions I have about those three she-devils?"

Jongho shook his head, "Not yet, sir. We'll need evidence to prove your theory; we might have to dig deeper. Just getting someone to talk about it might not be sufficient for your plan to succeed."

The general nodded, "It's alright, Jongho. We still have some time. So long as we have that piece of evidence before I return to work next week, is that doable?"

After a brief moment of contemplation, his aide replied, "Yes, I think that should be enough time. If that is all for now, I'll be taking my leave, sir."

"Thank you, Jongho. You may go."

Left alone with his thoughts, your husband resisted the urge to run to you immediately. He felt so angry for you that he could almost cry. The depth of your suffering was unimaginable to him, and all he wanted was to embrace you, shield you from the harsh and cruel world, and erase the pain and traumatic memories.

Clutching the book with your family crest, he glared at your father's name, imagining all the ways he could take the old man out.

I promise you, my dear. I'll make them pay.

At the same time, he couldn't stop beating himself up for the way he had treated you on your first day here. His heart ached as he recalled you travelling this far all on your own, only to face continuous mistreatment from him. Even if you had already forgiven him—you weren't even angry at him in the first place, you had to be crazy for that—Seonghwa would never forgive himself for his actions. He would be spending the rest of his days trying to make up for it.

That night, he experienced another restless bout of sleep, tossing and turning as the endless imagined scenes of you being tortured, starved, and treated like cattle haunted his mind. At some point during the night, he couldn't resist the impulse and walked over to your quarters, standing by the entrance like a fool, contemplating whether he should knock.

But he quickly realised that you must not have had any decent rest for who knows how long, and here he was, on the verge of disturbing you just because he couldn't sleep. Gosh, how selfish could he be?

He trudged back to his own room, trying to focus on the thought of you being soundly asleep in your new and comfy bed. Thankfully, this image managed to bring a smile to his face, and just like that, he gradually joined you in dreamland.

"Good morning, mistress! We're here to help you get ready. May we please enter?" Your eyes fluttered open as Eunsook's voice reached you, and a yawn escaped your mouth after having what felt like the most amazing sleep for the first time in years.

You were tempted to hop off your bed and rush to open the door for them, but then you remembered you weren't supposed to do so. Clearing your throat, you answered politely, "Yes, you may enter."

The servants bowed, unable to hide their smiles upon seeing you sitting up on your bed, still marvelling at the grand interior of your new room despite having already spent one night there.

Unbeknownst to you, the maids had been competing to be chosen to serve you. In just your third day here, you had become the most precious figure in the entire estate, and everyone wished to work under you. This particular group of maids had been selected, and their excitement was palpable as they enthusiastically bathed, dressed, and fixed your hair and makeup for the day.

On the other hand, the less fortunate few found themselves assigned to prepare the general for the day. Especially now, with Jongho, the only one capable of handling Seonghwa, engaged in special duties elsewhere, they had no choice but to put up with their master, even as their hearts yearned to be in the House of Lotus.

The morning unfolded with remarkable ease, thanks to your presence. Your husband proved more manageable than usual, his typical grogginess dissipating as he witnessed your excitement over breakfast. It made him both happy and sad—happy to see you so easily satisfied but sad at the realisation of the deprivation you had endured. Your genuine appreciation for even the most basic necessities was a testament to your difficult past.

Repeatedly, he had to remind himself that your history was just that—history. There was nothing he could do to alter it. But he was your present and future, and he would do everything to ensure you had nothing but the best moving forward.

Having already provided you with the best quarters on his estate, the next step was to adorn you in the finest clothes in all of Joseon. Whether or not you arrived with clothing from your old home was irrelevant to him; he would have burned every piece of it to the ground regardless. His goal now was to ensure that, at first sight, everyone would recognise you as the esteemed and beloved wife of the terrifying General Park.

Waiting for you by his carriage, he was not disappointed by your reaction to the vehicle as he assisted you inside. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you took in the spacious interior. Usually, he kept the carriage's small windows closed, but anticipating your excitement, he left them open. A subtle smile played on his lips as you gazed in awe at the passing scenery.

Cute.

The dressmaker's shop was situated in the middle of a lively street in town, requiring the two of you to cover the remaining distance on foot while the carriage and its coachmen awaited your return. Accompanied by two servants trailing closely behind, the four of you began making your way through the bustling crowd.

While Seonghwa found himself irritated by the unending stares drawn by both of your extraordinary visuals, your attention was captivated by the surroundings.

This marked your first visit to the town, evident from your childlike fascination, a source of amusement for the observing servants who shared delighted giggles. Throughout the journey, your husband ensured a tight grip on your hand, apprehensive about the possibility of losing you in the busy crowd.

The commoners, oblivious to your identities, continued their activities nonchalantly. Little did they know they were looking at the famous General Park and his new wife. If your true status were known, the street might have cleared within seconds.

Growing weary of the continuous gazes, the general promptly guided you towards the shop he intended to visit.

Upon entering, you were captivated by the array of colourful and elegant hanbok on display. The servants remained close by, engaging in lively discussions about their preferred designs. Typically, Seonghwa would disapprove of his employees being so casual around him, but witnessing the joy on your face as you excitedly joined in on their conversation, he couldn't bring himself to reprimand the two maids. Sighing, he moved further into the establishment, searching for the owner.

Spotting the familiar back hunched over work at the rear of the salon, he couldn't help but roll his eyes before saying, "I still don't understand why you won't hire a helper. You could be robbed in broad daylight, for all we know. You weren't even aware you have a customer, being busy back here."

Turning around with a raised brow, the dressmaker countered, "You're wrong, Park Seonghwa. I didn't bother heading out because I knew it was you. That's how good I am, and that's why I don't need to spend unnecessarily on a helper."

Before the general stood an old friend from his early military days, one who had decided the life of a soldier was not his path and had pursued his passion in fashion, "Yes, yes. It's nice to see you too, Kim Hongjoong. Good to know you haven't changed much."

The shorter man grinned deviously at his friend's sarcastic response, glancing at you, "Aye, I haven't. Unlike you, General Park."

Hongjoong set his tools down and continued, "Heard you finally got married, and I didn't believe it, not until today. That lovely woman over there, that's her, isn't it? She must be quite the special one for you to accompany her all this way. This isn't like you at all. The Seonghwa I know would never waste his time coming here."

If there was one thing your husband did not miss about his friend, it was his relentless teasing. He rolled his eyes again when it went on, "You know, I really thought I'd never get to see you again, but here you are, all because of her."

Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "One more word from you, Hongjoong, and you can kiss this business deal goodbye. Don't come crying to me when I end up employing another dressmaker for all of my wife's clothing."

Jaws falling slack, Hongjoong exclaimed, "Hold on, did I hear that right? All of your wife's clothing?"

The general smirked, "Yes, you heard correctly. I'm hiring you for the long term, enough for you to shut down your shop and work exclusively for my estate."

Hongjoong chuckled, "Closing my shop might be a stretch, but a steady income is tempting. I'm on board. You have good taste, Seonghwa. I assure you won't regret hiring me. I'll make Lady Park the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, mark my words."

"Excellent. I'm counting on it, Hongjoong."

As pleased as your husband was to have secured a reliable dressmaker for you, there are moments when he regrets such decisions. He experiences a sense of déjà vu as he observes you interacting with his friend, recalling the uneasy feeling he had witnessing your reaction to Yunho.

"My lady, it seems my task is already defined. Your beauty is already exceptional, and I'm afraid I won't have to work too hard to enhance it at all." Hongjoong has always been quite the charmer, and Seonghwa disliked that he was using it on you, his wife, of all people.

The blush on your face, as adorable as it was, irked the general at the moment, as he wasn't the reason for it. He watched, unamused, as the dressmaker smugly took your measurements.

Contrary to your calm and oblivious demeanour, the two maids were keenly aware of their master's internal fury, manifested in the glares he shot at his friend. They trembled at the thought of his wrath, unaware that Hongjoong was the only one audacious enough to tease the general without fearing severe consequences. The two had always shared what people termed a love-hate relationship.

Other than you, your husband and the servants felt a sense of relief once the dressmaker completed noting your measurements, checking your design preferences, and determining which colours suited your skin tone best.

"Alright, it looks like we're done for now. I'll do my best to deliver the first batch of dresses to your estate by next week. Is that okay?" Seonghwa softened as soon as he recognised his friend's serious and professional side, nodding quickly, "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Hongjoong."

The shorter man gave him a sincere smile, "No, thank you, Seonghwa. I mean it in a good way when I say you've changed. Your wife is lovely, by the way. I'll be seeing you soon, my friend."

As the four of you made your way out of the shop, the general's irritation resurfaced as quickly as it had dissipated just moments ago when Hongjoong sent you a flirty wink, "Have a safe journey back. I can't wait to see you again, Lady Park."

Cutting short your innocent wave, Seonghwa swiftly wrapped a strong arm around your back and guided you away, not missing his friend's annoying laughter, "Let's go; the carriage is waiting." He grumbled, jealousy and petty anger flooding his veins.

But those emotions vanished as soon as you both got into the vehicle, the rhythmic rocking motion lulling you into drowsiness. In your sleepy state, your head landed on his shoulder, and you whispered, "Thank you, Seonghwa. I had fun today."

He pulled you closer, ensuring your comfort, and pressed his lips against your hair.

"Anything for you, my wife."

« Preview of Part 7 »

"Can you all believe this? Just a few days into marriage, and the general has already sent word to His Majesty that he has an important agenda to discuss in our next assembly?" The minister guffawed, downing a glass of rice wine in amusement.

His wife grinned slyly, "Do you reckon it has anything to do with her?"

"Oh, I bet it has everything to do with her!" Jinah chortled.

"He must have been so disgusted by the sight of her bare from all that makeup," Jinhee shook her head before panicking, "Wait a damn minute, what if he asks to swap her for one of us?"

Jinjoo whined, "Father, you better not agree to that if it happens!"

"You silly girls, your father would never let any of that happen. Right, honey?" Their mother drawled, curling up to her husband seductively. The mere thought of your potential misery brought them satisfaction.

Minister Jang nodded, "Don't worry, girls. Knowing Park Seonghwa, he most likely would not entertain the idea or ask for anything like that. We'll just have to wait and see what he wishes to talk about. This should be interesting."

"That better be the case." Jinhee muttered, arms crossed.

Jinah smirked, "Or who knows, he's already disposed of her and decided the only right thing to do is to report it."

Cruel laughter echoed through the dining hall of the Jang estate as your family speculated on the possible whereabouts of your remains. None of them noticed the mole within their staff, attentively listening to every word.

I know you're all probably dying to know Minister Jang's secret but what fun will it be for y'all to find out so soon, am I right?😝 Not to worry though, I promise it'll all be revealed in due time.

Thank you so much for 900+ followers! As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (2/2): see comment/reply section

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.

fandom. formula one

pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer

content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread

notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others

yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️

mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3

⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!

⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)

user you're incredible, y/n

user oh my god these pictures are insane??

user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!

⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others

yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!

mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!

⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹

user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true

⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!

user marking the day on my calendar!

user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us

user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...

⤷ user who??

YOURUSERNAME

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others

yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸

mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!

⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗

user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post

user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!

user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD

user mother is mothering FR

user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??

⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????

⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..

⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭

oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏

⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!

⤷ user oh he's brave

⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀

OSCARPIASTRI

liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others

oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."

yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶

⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡

user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!

user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this

landonorris congrats mate!

logansargeant FINALLY!

⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...

⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough

user my new fav wag

⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid

user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!

⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud

user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID

⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH

⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???

⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true

⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)

⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)

user my god the delusion some people have 💀

taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[xiaoseminence]

I’m not sure if you do these but

An imposter!sagau with a creator (gn??)who just keeps resurrecting when they die, like their body disintegrates and reforms in the same spot like a minute later

Anyway Zhongli’s reaction to killing the creator, then watching their golden blood spill everywhere and realise with horror what he did

Only for creator to resurrect not even five minutes later, but with massive obvious trust issues (and Zhongli’s subsequent extreme guilt)

It’s a guilt fic im asking you to write a guilt fic

𓆩♡𓆪 Divine Retribution 𓆩♡𓆪 (Genshin SAGAU Scenario) (Imposter AU!)

Summary ➵✬ Mislead by a false idol, Rex Lapis commits the ultimate act of heresy. It’s only when the blood of the real creator stains his hands a golden color that he realizes what he just did. 

Warnings ➵✬ Heavy Yandere, Mild depictions of blood/violence, Worship/Religious practices, Dark Topics, Depictions of emotional distress, Reader dies but not really

Despite how much your legs ached and your lungs seemed about ready to combust, you were slowly but surely starting to realize that you’d never be able to outrun him. If anything, it was as if he was toying with you, his disembodied voice whispering fury filled words into your ears as tears streamed down your face. 

“Sinner, Miscreant! You vile creature will meet your justice at my hands today”

You never asked for any of this. The initial excitement of discovering you’d awoken in the world of your favorite game, surrounded by the many characters you’d grown to know and love, soon turned into icy fear once you saw the look in their eyes. From the very first moment any of them met you, they looked at you with such disdain and malice, they’d curse at you, call you “Imposter” or “Monster”, and chase you away. So far you managed to outrun them all, hiding in the rural regions of Liyue without showing your face to a single soul. But as soon as he was informed about your existence, your life was running on limited time. 

“Their eminence will be delighted to see your head on a stake, hung above the walls of their palace. Demons like you should know that only death awaits you in the land of the creator”

A loud cry erupted from your throat as you felt a piercing pain in one of your legs. One look back revealed a golden spear embedded deeply in your flesh. Although you tried to keep running, it resulted only in a pathetic limp before you collapsed to the ground shortly after. The black cloak you had grown accustomed to wearing hid your form from the archon that was drawing closer and closer to your shivering body. The countless scrapes and bruises that covered you from head to toe after running for such a long time felt more painful than ever before. The golden blood flowing through your veins ever since you first came to this world was absorbed by the dark cloth, remaining as nothing but a barely visible stain. 

His steps were slow and silent as he lazily stalked up to you. To him, you were wounded prey - and he was the predator about to devour you whole. Finally stepping in front of you, his gloved hands reached out to harshly grab your chin, forcing you to look straight into his amber colored eyes that were burning with resentment. 

“It seems as though the little pest has finally been caught in the trap. Speak, Rat. Dare you defend your actions of besmirching the divine creator’s name with your hideous attempt to copy their form?” 

He always seemed like such a grounded and wise character, yet as you were met with his perfect features pulled into a dangerous snarl, it was difficult to believe that this was the same person. An involuntary whine spilled past your lips as his grip on your jaw grew stronger to the point that you thought your skull would break apart. 

“I don’t know what crime you keep accusing me of. I never hurt anyone!”, it came out as a desperate plea for mercy, yet something inside you told you that it didn’t matter whether you were to beg on your knees or spit in his face - the archon of geo remained as unmoving in his resolve to kill you as mountain, ever unfazed by its surroundings. 

“Pathetic.” - He all but growled this word as his eyes seemed to grow as hard as gold. Before you could even realize what was happening, a harsh push had your back painfully colliding with the muddy ground below. The tip of his golden spear dematerialized from its place embedded in your thigh, instead appearing only inches from your (e/c) eyes. You were scared to blink, even scared to breathe - in fear that the spear would come crashing down on you before you knew it. Your face - the face that everyone seemed to resent you for - was staring right at the archon who would be your killer. 

For only a fraction of a moment, his amber eyes seemed to soften, their color appearing gentle and warm like molten pools of caramel. Yet this moment was soon over, as an even harsher scowl appeared on his features. 

“How dare you? You really thought you’d be able to fool their grace’s most devoted worshiper?”, he hissed, as if it was somehow your fault that you looked similar to the deity they revered. 

“You don’t deserve to utter any last words”

Before your mouth could open to let out one last defiant scream, before your muscles could contract and roll you to the side, away from danger, a sharp pain shot through your forehead - all but seeming to split your head in half as the spear found its place in your skull. The last thing your tired eyes noticed was a single splatter of shimmering, golden blood - before finally… your vision faded to black. 

In all his years of seeing war, bloodshed, famine and death, the archon of Liyue never once faltered in his conviction toward his creator. Even after losing those who held close to his heart, his faith gave him the strength to carry onward - his body seemingly fueled only by sheer devotion. Yet in this very moment, as a single splatter of golden blood hit his face, he never felt more pathetic. Not a single muscle in his form dared to even so much as twitch, as the only feeling aside from his own heartbeat thundering painfully in his chest was the warm liquid sliding down his cheek. It seared him, felt so hot against his skin that he was sure it was a warning of what hellfire would await him after what he had done. 

“I- Your grace?”, his words were barely above a whimper, hand outstretched as if to touch them, assure himself that he hadn’t done what he feared he had. Although he tried to convince himself that he must be mistaken, the endlessly empty feeling in his chest confirmed what he deep down already knew to be true. He had killed them. 

ɢᴏᴅꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ - ʜᴇʀᴇᴛɪᴄ - ᴅɪꜱꜱᴇɴᴛᴇʀ

The words kept repeating themselves endlessly in his mind. With a broken sob his knees gave out under him, allowing his body to fall onto the cold ground. He felt like he was burning from the inside, hellfire coursing through his veins, yet his shaking hands still reached out for his creator’s limp body. His gloves had long since been discarded, thrown aside and forgotten in the damp grass. “What a fool I am, your grace. What hubris led me to believe that I could be your most devoted servant, the one to lay the world at your feet when in the end… it was I who fell for a false idol?” 

He wanted to cradle his deity in his arms, let the tears that spilled from his eyes wash away his sins and their blood. His face felt tainted, dirty - sullied with the blood of his one and only god. Blood that he had spilled. When his hands should have touched the body lying motionless on the ground, he was met with nothing but shimmering dust. The creator had disappeared. 

It mattered little to Rex Lapis what would become of this world, of the inhabitants of Liyue and all those he swore to protect. Nothing in this world would ever matter again without the gentle guidance of the creator. 

“Please, I beg you! Please punish me! I deserve a punishment worse than death”- He bowed down so deeply that he could feel the cool ground against his face. He was ready to beg and atone for as long as it took for you to punish him. He would accept anything, anything at all - but he couldn’t live knowing he’d been abandoned by you. A life without your presence was a greater torture to him than his mind could even fathom - if you stayed gone… he would break apart. 

“Please… come back”, he had yelled and cried to the point his lungs started to hurt, and by now his voice was nothing above a raspy whisper. What a pathetic shadow of himself the archon had become. 

You often wondered what the afterlife would be like. Would you end up waking up in yet another game world? Or… would dying perhaps give you a chance to go back home? Home, where you belonged and many friendly souls were waiting for you, people who wouldn’t curse and spit at you, forcing you to go into hiding for so long. Yet death did not come to you as easily as you expected, as when you opened your eyes again…

A cloud of shimmering golden dust was surrounding you like a cocoon. When it all at once burst open, you were met with a rather startling sight. Before you knelt Rex Lapis - or Zhongli as you’d first come to know him in the game. Yet to your surprise, nothing seemed to remain of the unshakable mountain he appeared as before. He was shivering, near silent sobs racking his body uncontrollably. 

The slight golden shimmer in his peripheral vision made him freeze. His teary eyes raised themselves at a snail’s pace - too scared was he that it was a mere illusion of his desperate mind. Yet when he met your mortified gaze, he couldn’t help but cry out in relief. 

“Your grace! I will repent! Whatever you want, for however long you see fit-”, the male practically flung himself at your feet, hands grasping all too eagerly at your stiff legs. His touch was gentle, but you knew it would be impossible to get him to let you go if he saw it fit to hold you in place. He was looking up at you with such… passion? It felt as though you could see right through his eyes, into a burning fire of devotion. This was far different to how anyone ever looked at you before in this world. They tended to gaze at you with either disdain or a twisted kind of pity that made you feel sick to your stomach. It scared you far more than if he had been angry, swinging at you with that spear of his. 

“L-let me go! Don’t touch me!”, you frantically cried out, moving backwards so quickly that you fell over.

His expression immediately fell, an almost empty look replacing his formerly so fiery expression. 

“I understand, your grace”, his breath shuddered as he instantly let you go, hands retracting so fast, it seemed as though your skin had burned him. 

“I will prove my worth to you. Command me as you wish. No matter what you order me to do, who you want me to kill. If you want me to mutilate and torture myself I will be happy to do so, I’d burn all of Liyue down in a heartbeat if you so desired -  if only to cleanse myself of the sin I have committed” 

His fervent, desperate devotion was far more terrifying than his wrath could ever be.  Word count ➵✬ 1850 Note ➵✬ Thank you for my very first request

[iovesia]

𐚁֙࿐ SNOWED IN.

tbosas mlist.⠀ 𑇓 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ⠀ex-bf!coriolanus snow⠀𝑥⠀f!reader.

synopsis. the last thing you wanna do is share a cabin with your ex— let alone be snowed in together.

contents. modern au. headcanons. established relationship?. forced proximity. implied infidelity. toxic!coriolanus. brief nsfw. not proof read.

⋆ 𓂃 ﾟ .⠀josie's little note: merry late christmas my lovelies! here's some holiday themed smut from yours truly.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ⠀you and coriolanus had conveniently broken up in the coming weeks before the annual ski-trip with your friend group. your paranoia got the better of you when you notice him and a certain brunette songbird getting closer.

"nothing's going on— you're being crazy," he sighs, rolling his eyes as he suddenly gets out of bed. safe to say, your accusations had killed the mood according to his haste in putting his pants back on.

"would it even really matter as long as i come home to you?"

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ safe to say, you put your foot down that night and called it quits. coriolanus being a stubborn bastard couldn't help but badmouth you to your mutual friends— creating an awkward tension for the upcoming trip.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ the trip was doomed from the start when you realised you would be squeezed against him in the tiny travel van to the cabins. none of your friends were willing to trade, choosing to sit with their own lovers— so there you were, pressed up against coriolanus' side. the blond made no effort to even acknowledge you, keeping his head facing the frosty window for the entire 6 hour drive.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ to make matters worse, you completely forgot that you two had initially booked a cabin to share. you were too embarrassed to ask your friends to trade, while coriolanus shamelessly demanded his friends to swap with him.

your friends shared brief glances before shaking their heads no. coriolanus lets out a scoff, like a spoiled brat not being handed his present— while you tried to maintain some level of humility. there was no need to spoil your friends' vacation as well.

you could handle a week with your ex.. right?

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ unfortunately, coriolanus had other plans. now that you two weren't together anymore, you finally started to notice all his little .. quirks that you were ignorant to before.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ like his incessant need to keep everything organised, keep everything clean. can you brush your teeth quieter? it's annoying to listen to. organise your clothes! don't leave your suitcase sprawled out. you knew he was acting out because he was bitter. but to avoid another argument, you begrudgingly obeyed his complaints.

"i nearly tripped and broke my neck. twice," he mumbles venomously, purposefully shoving your suitcase to the wall with his foot. mimicking his tone under your breath, you stand up from your bed.

"since when did you become a tightass?" you retort.

"since when did you become a slob?"

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ thankfully, during the majority of this hell-week you managed to avoid coriolanus while skiing, and choosing to sit at opposite ends of the table during dinners. you can feel his piercing glare occasionally, but when you turn to meet his gaze, he turns his head away.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ your mutuals friends pry the two of you for information on why you split up. while you remain vague, you overhear coriolanus smugly conjuring up some story about you being insecure and over possessive. what a hypocrite.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ just on the evening of your final night in the cabin, you hear a sudden thud that shakes your nightstand. the wind and snow were bad during every night of your trip— but this .. this one was especially bad.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ much to your horror, the only thing that awaits you the next morning is not your friends in the van packed and ready to go.. but a thick sheet of white. pure, hard snow. the snow almost reached the top of the door frame, successfully trapping the two of you inside.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you huff, your shoulder pressed against the door. coriolanus has his back against the door next to you— the two of you banding together to try and shut the door again.

the heavy snow barely makes a dent as you both huff and puff, pushing with all your might. "maybe if someone used their eyes before opening, we wouldn't be doing this," coriolanus rolls his eyes.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ the hours are painful and awkward. according to your group chat, you're gonna have to wait out the snow til the next morning. so much for hotel service. it wasn't all bad in the beginning, with you and your ex just sitting in opposite ends of the room, scrolling on your phones.

you were giggling at a random video on your phone when you felt a nudge on your shoulder. furrowing your brows, you turn to see coriolanus standing oddly close behind you, his face blank.

"what do you want?" you shrug him off.

"phone died," he replies, annoyingly taking a seat right on your bed. you raise a brow, suspiciously eyeing his nonchalant behavior as if he hadn't been throwing himself a pity-party the last few weeks.

"so read a book," you scoff.

"didn't bring one."

"take a nap."

"not tired."

"then imagine me caring," you roll onto your side of the bed, back facing him as he continues to invade your space. coriolanus tilts his head, his face still expressionless as he watches you scroll on your phone.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ you couldn't avoid coriolanus's intense stare. it was penetrating into the back of your head. he was always like this. an observer. practically monitoring every little thing you were doing. it was one of the reasons you fell out.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ coriolanus kept edging closer to you, trying to sneak a peek at who you're texting and you keep shuffling away, trying to preserve an ounce of privacy in this cabin.

"can you not?" you close your phone, setting it to the side. coriolanus' blank face breaks into a sly smirk, as he shrugs his shoulders. "you're so nosy."

"don't want me to see your texts to sejanus?" coriolanus pouts mockingly, his head tilted. "you've always had a thing for him.. everyone knows it— it's probably why you couldn't commit to a real relationship."

there's mockery laced in his tone, but you notice the hint of bitterness. your blood boils at his insinuation. coriolanus's habit of nonchalantly bringing up everything he deems "wrong" with you irks you to no end.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"you know what i mean."

"that's so rich coming from you," you quip, sitting up from your position. you glare down at coriolanus who was sprawled over your designated bed, like a cheshire cat. "you're used to be all over lucy gray when we were together— didn't see you complaining about commitment then," you throw the pillow at the blond.

"that was different, and you know it," coriolanus scoffs, dismissing your valid point as he gets off the bed, tossing the pillow back at you.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ coriolanus's little quips were just fuel to the fire, as the two of you fall into the vicious cycle of another argument. this tiny cabin keeping your loud voices bouncing off the walls.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ his cold blue eyes glaring down at you, a finger in your face and condescension leaking from his words. you spit back throwing accusations after accusation that coriolanus dismisses easily.

"fuck you, coriolanus," you whisper coldly. his warm breath hits your face, his nose a few inches from yours as his deadly gaze mimics yours. a pregnant pause fills the room, as if all the air has been sucked out the cabin.

"fuck it," coriolanus hisses. his pale fingers pinch into your jaw as he tugs your face close, his lips smashing against yours. you let out a soft squeak in surprise and anger. you slap at his chest, trying to shove him away as he moves his free hand to your waist, pressing you up against his lean figure.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ your venomous words were consumed by the echoes of moaning and panting. his cruel jabs swallowed by your lips, but his anger evident in how hard he pinches your waist.

"sorry.. did you say something?" coriolanus croons, his forehead against yours. you pant and whimper softly, unable to bite back as your nails dig into his shoulders. his hips were unrelenting as they rutted against you, almost like he was trying to hurt you. your words come out garbled as coriolanus's fingers toy with the bundle of nerves between your legs. "that's what i thought."

coriolanus snow taglist. to be added !

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀join/remove from my taglist.

© 𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀, 2023. do not copy, repost or translate my works.

[ginnsbaker]

it's just dinner

Summary: Another installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to the follow up; You and Wanda enjoy a quiet dinner at your home--or so you thought

Word count: 3k | Tags: Fluff, Some Blood (lol), Wanda being clumsy

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: There will be one more installment after this. It's been really fun writing something so wholesome :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

-

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

Two hours earlier

Every attempt at a date with Wanda Maximoff is a tragicomic misadventure.

The first attempt was promising: a quaint dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant. Yet, on that very day, your apartment's plumbing decided to rebel, turning your living space into a mini lake. You remember Wanda's sympathetic chuckle on the phone, suggesting a rain check. The next date was set, but it still wasn’t in the cards. Just as you were picking out a shirt, Wanda’s phone buzzed. An urgent mission. She sent an apologetic message, punctuated with a little red-faced emoji. “Next time,” she promised.

Your third attempt seemed foolproof. A coffee date, something short and sweet. Yet, irony dripped as you got a call from the dental clinic. An emergency extraction that couldn't wait. As you gloved up, you couldn’t help but think of the universe’s odd sense of humor.

(Maybe it's trying to send a message, and you've been too stubborn to listen.)

But resilience is your middle name. So, here's attempt number four.

A cozy dinner and a film at your place. Simple. No grand expectations. If, by chance, this date still falls through, at least you're already home. Your bed awaits, just steps away, to provide solace for any potential disappointments.

As the clock ticks closer to the agreed-upon time, you arrange the table, blending classic dinnerware with contemporary accents. Wine glasses shimmer under the subdued lights, their elegant curves catching the candle's dance. The gentle melodies of a classical piano accompany the inviting aroma of the goulash, creating a setting that might just captivate Wanda's heart.

Not that you’re already aiming for her heart. That'd be rushing things, wouldn't it? Only a week ago, you and Wanda were each wary of the other—you, daunted by her powers, and her, intimidated by, well, you.

A mere dentist.

In your bedroom, you've changed outfits multiple times, finally choosing one that finds the right balance between casual and slightly dressy. Every detail matters, from the watch you're wearing to the cologne you've spritzed.

Sure, there's a hint of anxiety, but above all, you're buzzing with anticipation. You can picture it—Wanda's appreciative smile as she digs into the goulash, both of you snuggled up during the movie, and then chatting about everything and nothing as you both start to get sleepy.

Your phone buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You see a message from Wanda: “On my way. Can't wait!” accompanied by a heart emoji. Your spirits rise instantly. You send a silent plea to every god out there who’s watching, hoping for no more mishaps tonight.

Time seems to move both too slow and too fast. Every tiny noise from outside makes you jump, wondering if it's her arrival. You go over your preparations one more time: the temperature of the goulash, the volume of the music, the soft glow of the candles.

A soft knock sounds at your door. The moment has arrived. Your heart races as you move to answer it, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You open the door, and there she stands—Wanda Maximoff, perhaps the most powerful Avenger, clad in skin-tight jeans, a long coat over her shoulders and the same nervous smile you’re wearing right now.

“Hi,” she murmurs softly, that European lilt making it sound almost musical.

“Hey, Wanda,” your voice quivers ever so slightly. “Please, come in.”

She steps inside, and you instinctively reach out, helping her slip off the long coat. The soft fabric is warm from her body heat, and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you suggest with a gesture towards the plush sofa. She gracefully obliges, her eyes scanning the room.

She takes a moment, head tilted ever so slightly, her nose twitching as it picks up on the scent wafting from the kitchen. “Is that... goulash I smell?” she says, eyes twinkling in delight.

A pleased chuckle escapes you. “Someone's got a good nose.”

In the midst of tweaking the table's placements, you're painfully conscious of every inch of space between you and her. Wanda Maximoff, right in your apartment, seated gracefully on your sofa. The room temperature is already set at the lowest, but you feel unexpectedly warm in your clothes. 

You take a few deep breaths. Center. Ground. Every preparation led to this moment.

Distracted by your own thoughts, you almost miss the soft rustling from the living room. Wanda's eyes are now fixed on the elegantly wrapped gift resting on your coffee table. The parchment paper, crinkled just right, holds a tag with her name in your neat handwriting.

She arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “For me?” she asks, her finger running over her name on the tag.

“Uh, yes,” you stammer, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I thought...well, it's our first, you know, date... and I wanted to get you something.”

She gives you a soft, appreciative smile, her fingers deftly unwrapping the gift. The sight of the Sokovian cookbook draws a genuine, surprised chuckle from her. “You really did your homework,” she teases.

“You're worth the effort,” the words slip out before you can reign them in, and suddenly the room feels a few degrees warmer. But Wanda doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she seems... pleased.

“The jasmine rice will be ready in just a few minutes,” you mention, as you drape the apron on a hook by the kitchen entrance. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It's just dinner. With Wanda Maximoff. No pressure.

You then make your way to join her on the sofa, deliberately choosing a spot that's comfortably distant. Not too close to be presumptuous, but not too far to seem distant. Or so you think.

However, Wanda doesn't let the spacing go unnoticed. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?” she asks with a playful pout.

You blink, momentarily lost for words. “Oh, I just... thought I'd give you some space?”

Wanda smirks, tilting her head slightly, “You're sweet, but you can sit a bit closer if you'd like.”

Swallowing your nerves, you slide a tad bit closer, closing the gap. Now, your knees are almost touching. The proximity introduces you to more intricate details: the scent of her perfume, the subtle shadow on her lids, the faint tint on her lips.

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Much better, don't you think?”

You gulp, trying to swallow down your body’s reaction to her voice. “Yes,” you breathe out, attempting to find your bearings again. “Definitely better.”

“So,” Wanda starts, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “How does someone like you end up as a dentist?”

“Well, my dad was one. After high school, I honestly didn't have a clear path in mind.” You shrug, your gaze distant as you recollect. “It was kind of a 'fall into the family business' scenario.”

“But do you enjoy it? Being a dentist, I mean.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” you confess, a far-off look in your eyes. “I had other hobbies—gardening, painting. There was a time when I thought of diving into the arts.”

“But you didn't?”

You shake your head. “Practicality won over passion, I guess. Dentistry is stable, and I do like it.”

She studies you for a moment. “Do you ever regret it?”

You ponder for a second, thinking about all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. But then, your eyes find Wanda's, and a smile creeps onto your face. “Well, being a dentist did allow our paths to cross. So, in that sense, I can't really complain, can I?”

Wanda's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, the faint blush enhancing her striking features.

You’re not entirely sure how you’ve survived so far on this date.

Clearing your throat to ease the building tension, you attempt to shift the topic. “Speaking of paths, how did you end up becoming an Avenger? If you don't mind me asking.”

Wanda's expression quickly darkens, and an immediate regret washes over you. You wish you could retract your question, hating the thought of being the one to bring such sadness to her eyes.

Wanda tells you her story with a distant look in her eyes, like she's replaying a bad dream. She tells you about the Battle of Sokovia, how she lost her twin brother in the midst of it, and how she felt totally alone afterward. With no family or close friends left, she ended up with the Avengers. At first it was a choice of convenience, but she soon started to think of them as her new family.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you say, not knowing what else to say. You’ve never experienced such pain and loss, especially with your parents and sister living in different states, leading their own lives.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the edges of her eyes glistening. “It's... difficult. Sometimes more than others.”

The soft beep of the rice cooker slices through the heavy atmosphere. You turn towards the kitchen, then back to Wanda, offering an apologetic smile. “Looks like the rice is ready,” you mention, almost sheepishly.

She laughs softly at your politeness and says, “Good. I’m starving.”

-

Wanda Maximoff has a big appetite.

This becomes amusingly clear when she polishes off her plate and shyly requests more rice, eventually consuming the entire portion you'd prepared for the evening. Honestly, you hadn't anticipated this outcome, especially since you weren't entirely sure how goulash was supposed to taste. But seeing Wanda devour nearly all of it not only boosts your confidence in your cooking but also in how the date is progressing.

Honestly, it's been ages since you've been on a date. You keep wracking your brain for topics, wondering if you're saying the right things. But thankfully, it's Wanda who takes the lead, her inquiries steering the chat in various directions. And each time she poses a question, that unique Sokovian accent of hers tugs at you, almost hypnotic. With every word, every soft-spoken syllable, you can feel yourself being drawn closer into Wanda's magnetic pull. It's both exhilarating and terrifying—mostly because you're not sure if you ever want to resist.

Just as you're about to suggest some movies to watch, Wanda's phone rings. You watch her facial expression shift slightly as she answers, her tone professional and measured. “I understand. I'll be right there in an hour,” she says, ending the call and turning to you with a regretful look.

At least you both got through a nice meal. Still, you’re a little disappointed.

“It's the compound. I've got to head back soon. Not an urgent situation, but...” Wanda trails off, her eyes reflecting her regret.

“How long do we have left together?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“About thirty minutes?” Wanda estimates. She then glances at the aftermath of your dinner, “Let me help you clean up.”

“You really don't have to.”

“It's easy. I can just use my powers,” she says, beaming a little proudly.

“I’m intrigued,” you say.

The idea of seeing her powers up close excites you, but as she begins to wave her hand, intending to levitate the dishes, something goes wrong. A misdirected wave of her magic, perhaps due to her eyes being trained on you as she watches your every reaction, causes a sharp knife from the counter to fly towards you. You only realize what's happening when you feel a sting on your arm.

Blood starts to seep through your shirt and Wanda's eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god, I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry,” she stammers, her face pale.

You look down, trying to assess the damage. It's not too deep, but it's definitely more than a scratch.

“Don't worry, it was just an accident,” you reassure her, but the sharp pain suggests you might need medical attention.

Wanda immediately wraps your wound with a clean towel and offers to take you to the hospital. It's quite the unexpected turn for your first date, and as the evening winds down with you in a hospital room, getting stitches, you can't help but chuckle at the situation.

Wanda's face, however, is a picture of raw concern, which to be frank, you find endearing, albeit in a dire context. She stays uncharacteristically silent, her expressive eyes darting between the cut on your arm and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room.

“Hey,” you break the silence, “Talk to me.”

“You know... maybe it's best if we don't see each other again,” she begins, hesitantly. “It's just the first date, and I've already sent you to the hospital.”

Wanda Maximoff is breaking up with you.

Before you two are even an item.

And the first date hasn't even finished yet.

And you’ve yet to kiss her. 

(You really, really want to.)

“You can't break up with me,” you blurt out.

She looks bewildered, “Why not?”

“Because,” you smirk, wincing a bit as the doctor tightens a stitch, “We're not together. Yet. And if this is your way of getting out of a second date, you're going to have to try harder.”

She looks at you, searching your face as if trying to discern whether you're joking or not. But you're serious. Deadly serious. 

Then an idea comes to her. “Fine, then I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“What–”

“I mean, if we're doing this, it's so I can properly end—”

“No,” you say, your smile widening, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wanda Maximoff, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Her expression grows more solemn, her tone somber. “You need to understand. Being with me is nowhere near normal. I’m dangerous. Everything around me, everything I deal with—it's all dangerous.”

The smile doesn’t leave your lips. “I understand,” you say, “But I still refuse to be your girlfriend.”

“You don’t give up do you?”

“Ask me again on our second date,” you suggest, nodding appreciatively at the doctor to subtly hint it's time for him to leave, as he’s been watching you both fall into each other a bit too long now.

“And I can’t have you blasting ‘Lips of an Angel’ throughout the compound if we call it quits now, can I?” 

Wanda's eyes widen in horror, her hands flying to her face. “How did you even know about that?”

“Vision,” you chuckle. At this point, you’ve totally lost it for this girl. “He sent me a message, thanking me on behalf of Natasha for finally getting you to switch off that track.”

Wanda groans, her face still partially hidden behind her hands. “I can't believe he did that. I'm never going to hear the end of it now.”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, leaning in closer. “I think it’s adorable.”

Still, Wanda remains quiet, and even though she’s the one who can read minds, you can hear just how loud her thoughts are. Gently, you grasp her hand and stand, pulling her up with you.

“What are we doing?”

“I’ve been patched up,” you note, motioning to your arm. “I’d rather not end our date inside a hospital. Come on.”

-

You insist on driving her back to the compound, despite Wanda's deep concern that you’d be able to handle a stick shift given your recent injury. However, after teasingly reminding her that she’s technically "in debt" for the unintentional knife incident, she finally gives in.

You really just don’t want the night to end with her simply walking away.

And while the two of you bickered over the technicality that Wanda can't really break up with you, there's an underlying fear in you that perhaps this might be the last time you see her.

The drive ends up being a quick one, and in just fifteen minutes, you’re pulling up the compound’s spacious driveway.

Both of you sit there for what seems like an eternity, neither willing to make the first move. Your heart races, beating loudly in your chest, as you keep stealing glances at Wanda, trying to read her expression.

“I... um... had a good time tonight, despite the… yeah,” you stammer out, trying to fill the silence. “Thank you for being there, Wanda.”

She nods, lips parting as if she's about to say something but doesn't. “Thank you for the meal and the cookbook,” she finally says, her voice soft, almost fragile. “And I'm really sorry about your arm.”

“You're welcome, Wanda,” you reply, your heart heavy in your chest.

She offers a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, and opens the car door. For a fleeting second, the thought of pulling her back crosses your mind, but you squash it down, not wanting to push your luck. As she steps out, you hope for a 'see you soon' or even just a casual 'later'. But nothing comes. And with a quiet thud, the door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mentally kicking yourself for letting Wanda do the dishes. Maybe none of this would've happened, and she might still be looking forward to another date. You're so lost in your ‘what-ifs’ that you almost miss the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

Suddenly, the passenger door swings open, and before you can react, Wanda is back inside. She leans over the center console, gently cradling your face with one hand and pulling you into a soft, tentative kiss. 

It's over in a heartbeat, leaving you both breathless.

She pulls away slightly, cheeks flushed, and her eyes brighter. “I didn't want to leave things like that,” she admits.

You smile, still in shock from the unexpected moment. “I'm glad you didn't,” you say, leaning in for another kiss.

Even if Wanda had thrown every knife in the room at you, it would still rank as the best date ever.

[clxja16]

Enough

Part III

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 4K+

Author's Note: this is turning out way longer than it was suppose to be. I never thought this was going to take this many parts. I'm so sorry for putting you guys through this. This is intense man, like damn. Idek if she's going to be able to fix her relationship with her parents after this. Like damn. I'm just going to apologize now for whatever emotional damage this causes. Also I don't think Toto is like this is real life. This is strictly for the sake of entertainment. This is in no way based on real life.

Part I, Part II

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

Charles wants to ensure that this proposal is absolutely perfect for you.  He wants you to have the fairytale you’ve always wanted.  Joris is absolutely sick of hearing about this proposal already.  Everything from the ring, to where he was going to propose, to how he was going to do.  Charles has created a very well crafted, detailed plan about this proposal.  

Charles is going to take you out on his boat, just before sunset.  He hired a private chef, to cook the two of you a romantic dinner, that will be held privately.   Then just after dinner, Charles would bring you around to the deck of the boat, where the two of you can stargaze before he pops the question.  And Joris will be hiding out on the boat, that way when Charles proposes, he can get all the pictures.  And then if you say yes, there will be an engagement party awaiting you and Charles.  

“Charles, I told you we got this,” Joris repeats for the thousandth time, as Charles repeats the steps to the plan again.  Lorenzo chuckles as he watches his brother pace back and forth.  

“Are you sure you want to propose?”  Arthur asks, as he exchanges a side eye with Joris, “I mean if you’re this nervous then maybe you don’t actually wanna get married.  You guys haven’t been together that long.” 

Charles finally takes a seat, he looks around the table to Lorenzo, Arthur, and Joris.  “I just want it to be perfect for y/n,” he sighs, running his hands over his face, “I want to spend the rest of my life making things perfect for her.”  Charles wears a stupidly lovesick smile on his face as he thinks of you.  It makes Joris and Arthur sick to see how in love Charles is.  

“Alright, alright,” Arthus says.  

“We got this, stop worrying so much,” Joris says, as he stands up patting Arthur’s arm to tell him to go.  “We’ll go make sure everything is prepared,” Joris says, as he and Arthur take their leave.  Charles nods to what Joris said.  

Lorenzo stays seated, he takes a moment to watch Charles.  Lorenzo can see how the stress has ingrained itself into Charles.  He sees how the anxiety is weaved into Charles.  And still  Lorenzo can see the love that is painted into Charles’ eyes.   “What’s on in your mind brother?” Lorenzo asks, wanting to pry Charles' worries from his hands.  

Charles sighs once again, “did you invite her parents?”  Charles lays his worries out for Lorenzo to see.  

“I did,” Lorenzo answers.  

Charles looks to Lorenzo, “it’s my fault she’s at a cross with her parents.”  

Lorenzo closes his eyes after hearing Charles’ statement.  Charles is kind-hearted, well mannered, responsible, hard-working, dedicated, and so much more.  However, Charles is also stubborn, hot-tempered, and he can be thoughtless at times.  “I told you,” Lorenzo starts off, pointing at Charles, “I told you not to mess with her, not to get involved with Toto’s daughter, did you listen?” 

Charles sighs, he knows Lorenzo warned him beforehand. “No, I did not.” 

“No, you did not,” Lorenzo repeats to Charles, “it’s too late to be blaming yourself about what happened, it happened already.  There’s no going back,”  Lorenzo takes a breath, he runs his hand through his hair, wanting to pull some out because of Charles.  “Let me ask you brother, do you love this girl?” 

“I do, more than I love racing,” Charles answers.  

“Then forget everything else already,” Lorenzo says, truthfully.  Another thing about Charles, is that there isn’t much that he loves more than racing.  “If you love her as much as you say you do, forget about her parents, forget about everything that has happened.  You marry her, you love her, and you spend the rest of your life making things perfect for her.”  Lorenzo knows that there’s no stopping you and Charles from being together.  From the moment he saw the two of you interact with each other, he knew this was bound to happen.  Lorenzo hasn’t seen anyone that could match Charles better than you can.  “Because like mama has told us, you never get a love like this twice.”  

Charles smirks at Lorenzo’s words.  Charles remembers his mother’s stories about her relationship with their father.  He remembers her talking so deeply about the love they shared.  How it was a once in a lifetime type of love.  How it was a love that was dipped in gold.  How it was a love that was enough for more than a thousand lifetimes.  “Thank you,” Charles tells Lorenzo.  

Lorenzo nods at Charles’ gratitude, before standing and saying, “we’ll see you tonight, and please brother, let her dress you.” Charles laughs at Lorenzo's joke, as he watches Lorenzo leave. 

-

“Charles, you want me to wear the white dress?” you question again, as you stood in the bathroom fixing your hair for tonight.  “Where are we going tonight?” 

“We’re just going out on the boat,” Charles says, as he walks into the bathroom as he’s fixing his sleeves.  

“Why the white dress then?” 

“Because I'm wearing white ma cherie, I want us to match,” Charles smirks, planting a kiss on your cheek, as grabs the bottle of cologne on the counter and walks back out.

You move away from the bathroom mirror, leaning on the door frame, watching Charles as he moves about the bedroom.  You could notice the light shine on his forehead, he was so clearly nervous about something. You try to rack your mind with all the important dates.  It wasn’t any type of anniversary, you could remember.  It most definitely wasn’t Charles’ birthday, and you know it wasn’t your birthday.  It couldn’t be Arthur’s or Lorenzo’s birthday.  A tiny voice in the back of your mind wonders if he was gonna propose.  But you told that little voice to be quiet, because there was no way he was going to propose.  

You and Charles had been going out for less than a year.  Nothing about the relationship was really conventional.  You guys haven’t even officially been living together.  It doesn’t seem like the proper time in a relationship to propose.  But you do wonder, if he’s gonna do it.  You smile to yourself, thinking about what it would be like to be Mrs. Leclerc.  

You grab the mini white sundress that Charles is so insistent on you wearing tonight.  You change out of the comfort clothes you’ve been wearing.  When you emerge again from the bathroom, newly changed into the dress, you catch Charles staring at you.  “I’m ready,” you say as you look up to meet Charles’ eyes. 

You don’t miss the small flush on his cheeks, “wow,” he mumbles under his breath.  “You look…” Charles tries to think of a compliment that perfectly encapsulates how breath-taking you are.  “Damn,” Charles says instead.

You giggle at his choice, “I look damn?” 

“No,” Charles quickly says, shaking his head, “words to describe how beautiful you look tonight, haven’t even been invented yet.” 

You giggle again at Charles’ cheesiness, “well I guess that’s a compliment.”  Charles smiles at you, planting a kiss on your lips. 

“Shall we go?” Charles asks, as he pulls you out of the bedroom.  

“Yes we shall.” 

-

Charles brought you around to the deck, when you guys finished up dinner.  The stars up above were shining bright.  There was a blanket and pillows set up on the deck for you and Charles to sit and stargaze.  “Dinner was lovely,” you say, as you take a seat next to Charles on the blanket.  “How did you find this private chef?” You looked over curiously at Charles.  

You could see the faint red creep up his cheeks, “honestly?” 

“Honestly,” you say as you begin to giggle wondering where this private chef Charles hired, came from.  

“He’s one of the team chefs,” Charles laughs out loud.  

You can’t help but laugh along as well.  “You hired your team’s chef for our date tonight?” 

“He makes great food and I didn’t know who else could do a private dinner,” Charles says very bashfully.  

“You’re lucky, you’re so cute,” you say with a smirk going to kiss Charles.  He pulls you in closer, as the two of you look out into the night sky.  “Tonight was perfect, Charles.”  There’s a pause before you continue.  “Thank you for tonight.” 

Charles can feel his heart banging against his chest.  Your ring feels heavy in his pocket.  His breathing sounds louder than ever.  However he doesn’t feel an ounce of worry.  Having you staring at him, with love swirling deep in your eyes, it makes him feel calm.  You make him feel calm.  He enjoys this feeling of calmness when he’s with you.  So much so that when he pulls you to your feet to stand with him, he isn’t worried about what’s going to happen next.  

Charles pulls you up, so the two of you are standing on the deck.  Nothing but the vastly beautiful night skin surrounding the two of you.  “I love you, y/n Wolff.  I am madly, deeply, whole-heartedly in love with you.” Charles says as he pulls a box from his pocket, “I know we haven’t been together for long, but I’m never going to stop being in love with you.  I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and only you.”  He gets down onto one knee, “will you marry me, y/n?” 

You’re nodding your head before Charles can even open the box to show you the ring.  “Yes, yes, yes,” you say repeatedly, holding out your hand for your ring.  Charles just smiles at you, as he slips the ring on your finger.  You don’t think you even spare the ring a second glance as you focus on pulling Charles in for a kiss.  He stands, pulling you closer by the hips as your hands hold his face.  When you finally pull away, Charles can see the tears that line your eyes, and you repeat once more, “yes.” 

-

After Charles finally asked the question, and you said yes, did Joris come out of hiding, snapping all the photos of the intimate moment.  Charles brought you back to the land and there awaiting was yours and Charles’ closest family and friends.  All congratulating you on the engagement.  To you this was the perfect way to end the night, celebrating with people you held near and dear to your heart.  

As you and Charles made your way through the party, making sure to stop and talking to everyone that came.  Towards the end, did you see your parents, patiently awaiting their turn with you and Charles.  As you see them, a part of you wants to pretend you didn’t see them, you want to turn around and find someone else to talk to.  But Charles doesn’t allow that, he plasters a kind smile on his face for your parents as he waves to them.  He holds your hand tightly, pulling you towards them.  

“Thank you for coming,” Charles speaks up first, as you stand in front of them.  

“Of course, we couldn’t miss such a special moment,” Susie says, not taking her eyes off of you.  “Congratulations sweetheart.” 

“Thank you Mamma,” you say, as you feel the tears line your eyes again.  Susie sticks out her arms for a hug and you welcome her hug.  “Thank you for coming,” you say whole-heartedly with a full smile.  Your heart begins to feel at ease.    

“Congratulations Darling,” Toto says, pulling you from Susie for his own hug.  

“Thank you daddy,” you say as a few stray tears fall from your eyes.  

Charles watches the sweet moment exchanged between you and your parents.  He knows that this is what you needed. 

-

Nevertheless, news travels fast in Monaco.  It only took two days before photos of yours and Charles’ engagement was leaked to the media.  Articles were published, social media posts were made, the formula one podcast were covering it.  Everything had one thing in common though.  It was said ‘Charles Leclerc is engaged to Toto Wolff’s daughter.’ 

You don’t know why but it rubbed you the wrong way.  You have always been known as Toto Wolff’s daughter, and it never bothered you before.  It never used to bother you when people referred to you as the little wolf, or as the mini Toto.  You used to love being known as Toto’s daughter.  However, at this moment, it wasn’t the same.  

You didn’t read all the articles, as most of them were just copies of each other.  You did scroll through one just to see what people were saying, and you noticed that it took them three paragraphs before even mentioning your own name.  Then, even after mentioning your name in the article, they still referred to you as Toto Wolff’s daughter.  Your name never made the headlines, your face didn’t even make the cover photo.  You don’t know what it was, but this time, it didn’t feel good being known as Toto Wolff’s daughter.  

“Charles,” you spoke up, leaning on the doorframe of the bedroom, looking at Charles laying on the bed, “let's get married.” 

“Ma cherie,” Charles said pointing at your left hand, “that ring means we are getting married.” Charles chuckles as he sits up in the bed.  

You smile, looking at the ring on your finger.  “I know, but I mean let's get married now,” you say, looking up at Charles, “like before the season ends, let's get married.” 

“Are you sure?” Charles looks at you with worry.  

“I mean we can have a big wedding, with all the bells and whistles later on, but I wanna be married now.  I wanna be Mrs.Leclerc before the year ends.” You smile as you speak, thinking that will be a good enough reason for Charles.  

Charles smiles at you, he can see through your charade but he’s willing to give into you.  “If that’s what you want, we will do that,” he comes up to you, kissing you on the forehead.  “I have to ask what brought this on?”  Charles looks at you closely, and you know that your false reasons aren’t enough for him. 

You hang your head a little knowing that the reason behind the need to get married right away, is a little foolish.  “I am known as Toto Wolff’s daughter.  Did you know it took an article three paragraphs to even mention what my name was?”  You sigh, even as you say it aloud it sounds stupid.  

“Would you rather be known as Charles Leclerc’s wife?” Charles knows that trading the Toto Wolff’s daughter title for the Charles Leclerc’s wife title, isn’t going to satisfy you.  

“It would be a title I want, rather than a title that I'm stuck with.” you try to reason, you don’t know if you’re helping or hurting your case. 

“y/n,” Charles gives you a look.  You don’t like it when Charles knows you better than you know yourself, “we both know you don’t want to be known as Charles Leclerc’s wife.  You gotta make a name for yourself baby, maybe as a driver.” Charles raises his eyebrows at you, looking hopeful. 

“It’s been five years,” you say, looking nervously at Charles.  There isn’t a day that goes by that you haven’t thought about racing again, but five years is a long break for anyone.  

“The numbers you put up on my simulator are enough to suggest you still got it,” Charles says as he walks past you, out of the bedroom to leave you with your thoughts.  

You think for a second, “I still want to get married before the season ends,” you shout for Charles to hear you. 

“We can do that too ma cherie,” Charles shouts back, causing you to smile.  You do think about his suggestion of going back to racing though.  You can’t stop thinking about it.  

-

“Charles,” you spoke first, walking to the living room, with a stack of papers.  Charles sat up to pay attention to you.  “I meant it when I said I wanted to be married before the season ends.” 

Charles slowly nods his head, “okay.” 

“Let’s do it after Monza, right after Monza.  Your brothers are going to be in Monza for the grand prix, so will my parents.  Lake Como is a couple hours away.  We can go to a courthouse and then the lake for pictures.  What do you think?” 

“Ma cherie, if that’s what you want, we can do that.” Charles smiles softly at you, he is willing to give you whatever you want.  “What are those papers?” 

“Marriage license, that we need to fill out a file to get married,” you smile excitedly at Charles while he chuckles.  He could tell you were excited to get married.  

“Okay,” he says with a smile, as you hand him a pen.  The two of you spend the rest of the evening filling out all the official paperwork to get married.  The two of you decide to go to the courthouse the Tuesday after the grand prix.  Charles makes sure to call his mom and his brothers about the event.  He tells you that Pierre and Carlos are going to insist on coming as well.  

You tell him that’s fine, you don’t mind a few extra guests, as long as it’s not the entire grid.  You know you’re going to have to invite the entire grid when you make the actual big wedding.  

-

“Are you packing for the Netherlands?” you questioned as you made your way into the bedroom.  Charles' clothes were laid out on the bed to be packed.  

“Yeah, my ear is still bothering me, I think I’m going to have to drive it.” 

“Oh no, a driver has to drive to his race,” you say overly sarcastically to Charles.  He shakes his head at you with a bit of a smile.  

“Are you flying with your father?” 

“I was thinking of going with you,” you say, as you sit on the bed, watching Charles fold his clothes.  

Charles looks up at you with a smile, “I would love for you to come with me ma cherie,” he says as he leans down to give you a kiss.  “We leave tomorrow though, better get to packing.”  

“Yes sir,” you say sarcastically with a little salute.  Charles raises a brow at you, causing you to start blushing madly.  “I’ll pack.”  

“y/n,” Charles calls out, stopping you in your tracks, “did you tell your parents about the wedding?’ 

“I will, tonight.  After I pack.”  

-

After you packed your bags for the Netherlands and for Monza, you headed to your parents house for dinner.  You felt extremely nervous about telling your parents about the wedding.  In your gut you felt like telling them would be a mistake.  You couldn’t figure out why, as they seemed to be more accepting of your relationship with Charles at the engagement party.  Your father even congratulated you.  

You knew that this isn’t going to be the wedding they originally anticipated.  You know they are going to want a reason for the sudden rush to be married.  You don’t know if you want to tell them your reason though.  Your father would probably take offense to your aversion to being known as Toto Wolff’s daughter. 

When you walk into the house you can smell your Mamma’s cooking.  She didn’t cook often, considering that her and your father were constantly traveling for work.  That when she did cook it was a special occasion. You loved your Mamma’s cooking, something about it tasted extra special.  Almost like you could tell she was cooking with love. 

 “Hi sweetheart,” Mamma greeted you as you made yourself visible in the kitchen.  

“Hi,” you greeted back with a big smile.  

“Dinner is just about ready, get your father from his office please,” 

“Of course Mamma,” you say as you make your way to the office.  You knock first, before slowly pushing the door open.  You see your father sitting at his desk typing away, “Mamma said dinner is almost done.”  

Your father smiles when he hears your voice, he finishes his typing, shutting his laptop before standing, “lets eat.” 

Dinner is filled with many laughs and stories.  It feels like nothing has changed.  You know things have changed, you know that it's different now.  But you like that this place still offers you the feeling of home.  You may not have forgiven them but you are accepting that they were just trying their best.  This is their first time in life too.  

As you begin to wrap up dinner, you know it’s time to tell them.  “I have some news to tell you guys.” 

“Good news?” Your mamma questions as she places the last of the dishes in the sink to be washed, before walking back towards the table. 

“I think it’s good news,” you say.  

“What is it darling?” Your father questions as he sits up in his seat.  

“Me and Charles are getting married.” 

Your Mamma chuckles a bit, “sweetheart, we know that, we were at the party.” 

“No, I mean we’re getting married soon.  Like in two weeks.” 

“Two weeks?” your father questions, looking seriously at you.  

“That’s really soon,” your Mamma says. 

“Why are you rushing?” Your father questions. 

“I want to be married before the season ends, I just want to be married.” 

“That’s not a reason y/n.” Your father looks at you with a scorn.  He makes it clear that he’s not liking this. 

“I love Charles, daddy.  I don’t want to wait to spend the rest of my life with him,” you try to come up with a good enough reason on the spot.  Something that won’t hurt your father’s feelings.  

“Are you pregnant?” Your father questions, his disdain being clear. 

“Excuse me?  No daddy, of course not.” 

“That’s the only reason to rush into a marriage like this.” 

“Toto,” your Mamma says, “I don’t think that’s fair.” 

“That’s the only reason people rush into a marriage is when they’re knocked up.” You can’t believe your father’s words.  “It’s probably why he proposed, because he knew.  So how far along are you?” 

“Daddy i’m not pregnant,” you didn’t know what else to say, as you shook your head, denying your father’s accusations. 

“I told you Susie, he was no good for her.” Your father doesn’t stop, he continues on with “I should have never brought you to the paddock.  I should have never allowed you to be around that boy.” 

“Daddy please,” you begin to cry, you don’t know how the night took such a sour turn.  

“Toto, I think that’s enough,” your mamma tries to stop your father. 

“How far along are you, we can go see a doctor and make it like this never happened.” 

Too far.  Your father went too far with that last statement.  Susie knows he went too far as well.  She can see it in your face there was no saving it now.  “I’m not pregnant,” you say with much disgust.  “I wanted to get married so soon because I hate being known as your daughter.  I much rather be known as Charles' wife than as your daughter.” 

The way you say it hurts Susie’s heart.  It almost feels like you’re saying you hated being their daughter.  She knows you have every right to be angry.  It doesn’t mean that your words hurt any less.  She knows that this is hers and Toto’s fault.  She just wishes Toto would stop digging their own graves. 

You stand to take your leave, you don’t want to be here anymore.  You don’t even know if you want them at the wedding anymore.  “Even if I was pregnant daddy, I would never get rid of it.”  You wipe away any of the remaining tears, “you’ve made it clear how you feel about this, I don’t want you at the wedding.  Mamma, you’re more than welcome to come to the wedding, you and Jack.  Only you and Jack.”  

You leave it at that, and you don’t know if you can accept this.  You accepted what they did to your racing career, but this is an entirely different matter.

Part IV

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

Taglist: @christianpulisic10 @lunnnix @honeybunchiesofoats @catswag22 @lazybot @coffeewhore18 @siovhanroy @peachiicherries @pizzalover57 @livingnotthriving@noodleboyluke@mirrorball-6@elijahslover @luciaexcorvus@styles-sunflower @nosebeers @topguncultleader

[toorusluvr]

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L PART TWO ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI

characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader

cw: college!au + volleyball!au + cunnilingus (f!receiving) + penetrative sex + mentions of creeps bothering the reader 

word count: 5k

note from nis: hi everyone so the long awaited part two of f.o.m.l is finally here. the part one was posted before i did my internship and now i’m three weeks away from completing my internship lol i’m so sorry for the delay. so, i hope this part two will keep you entertained and i apologise in advance if it’s not as good as the part one. the part two focuses on the events that happened before part one took place (did i word this right?) anyway, i hope all of you enjoy this part two as a celebration on officially getting toji animated! <3 thank you and have a great holidays! 

[part 1][part 2] 

Good lord, if Toji was no better than any other men, he would have tried to hit on his student that day. The first time he ever saw you as a woman rather than his student, he almost lost his mind over how fucked up that sounded in his head. He tried to blame himself for ever viewing you as a woman instead of his player but he just couldn’t stop staring at you! 

It was subtle, really. Toji was being subtle with all the staring, not wanting to stir up a crazy controversy around this new place. As a coach, he was supposed to lead his team to victory, not tearing them apart due to his foolish stunt. So, he acted normally like he usually did at his previous college. A grumpy, strict, hot-headed coach he has always been.  

Toji hates… no, he detests disobedience! He will never tolerate anyone talking back to him. Not even a word should be said back to him, no matter who the fuck you think you are. Whenever he asks you to do something, you better do it or else he’s going to lose his shit. You aren’t going to do what he asks you to do? It’s nice knowing you while it lasts. Especially in volleyball. You better follow what the man says. He is not at all nice with his words, he must say that. Most of the time, he would verbally lash out at the players, nitpicking every tiny mistake they make. It’s unbearable at first but hey, that’s how your team got to the final round of volleyball collegiate level! It was a remarkable day and the victory was possible due to Coach Toji’s determination and hard work. 

Coach Toji is never the one to make his players’ sports attire a huge problem in his life. But right now, there is nothing more he hates than how skimpy those shorts look on you at times. He wasn’t a fool! He could clearly see how stupid those college boys look at you in those revealing shorts. They were ogling over you and your teammates. A part of him just wanted to beat the shit out of them for having the audacity to look at what’s not theirs! 

But, he is not any better than those pervs. Coach Toji loves how those shorts look wonders on your legs. The way you stretch your legs on the squeaky floor and the shorts will rise a bit, teasing him with just a small peek of the globe of your ass. Coach Toji does not pay attention to the other players but you… you make him forget that he’s even breathing at the moment. 

Does he regret feeling this way towards his own student? Sometimes, yeah. He’s a grown man and so are you. It’s nothing inappropriate even if it might seem like it. But, he won’t ever act on his dirty thoughts for long as he’s having this job that is keeping him alive. He still has his conscience even if it’s uncontrollable at times. 

Coach Toji isn’t the one who likes having his hands on women he has absolutely no interest in. He avoids touching his players especially but you are an exception. He had to make an exception for you the moment he started to find himself staring at you. The days he started to think you are just what he needs in his life. Another plaything, another toy to keep. Such a precious little thing, his mind would say at every glance he takes. The quiet laughter you share with your teammates, the shy and flustered look every time your eyes meet his piercing gaze. He wouldn’t miss that. Oh, now he definitely knows you want him just as much. You may not want him romantically but it was enough to satisfy him on the you want him sexually part. 

You would think he doesn’t notice the way your body squirms every time he tries to fix your posture before each serve. He indeed notices it and the way your skin turns a bit colder each time his fingertips brush against your skin. The shaky breath you slowly inhale and exhale to calm the raging nervousness set in your heart. Cute. It just drives him to go crazy over you. 

His ‘girlfriend’, the woman he brought as his date to the event, wasn't really his girlfriend. Just another casual fuck buddy that he keeps in case he wants to well… fuck. Better to keep at least someone around anytime he wants to hit. She’s an old friend so no romantic feelings involved and both of them are very clear about it. 

That was merely a stunt to check if you’d get jealous but he never got the answer to his curiosity. You played your part well. Coach Toji was definitely impressed. 

However, a few days later, he received a call from your phone number that he saved in his contacts. Well, well, well, look who came running to him this late at night. Turns out, you couldn’t resist him too, huh? 

The moment he picked up the phone, his heart dropped at the sound of your panicking voice. You were sobbing and crying out for his name. “Coach, I-I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. There are a few guys who are disturbing me… I d-don’t feel safe,” your voice was caught in your throat at the end of the sentence. “Can you get me? Please…” you sobbed, holding your coat tightly to the chest. 

You couldn’t get past the group of guys because there were plenty of them. They were catcalling you and you got scared to walk past them. Calling your coach was the last thing you could do because no one else was nearby the campus at this hour. You went out for the sole purpose of purchasing dinner but then this shit happened. Fuck these guys for making you feel unsafe! 

Coach Toji immediately grabbed his jacket and keys, storming out of his apartment by the campus. “Don’t put the phone down! Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming to get you right now. Stay where you are,” he gritted through his teeth. His anger was off the roof, blood boiling at the thought of you feeling unsafe.

Those men’s faces will meet his fist tonight and he meant it with his whole existence. Whoever puts the people he looks out for in danger is going to be scathed alive. Coach Toji drove to the pinned location where he met a group of men drinking several cans of beer by the road. He spotted you hiding behind the building, hands clutching over your chest. One of the men tried to get you but he never got to approach you as Coach Toji’s fist met his jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare make women uncomfortable by your rotten existence, you fucking dipshit,” Coach Toji’s voice seethed. His knuckles burned, slightly scratching his skin off. He was quick to grab you by the hand and you were caught by surprise. Coach Toji stopped in his tracks in front of the group of men. 

“You better get the hell out of here before I call the fucking cops on ya,” he threatened. “If I get one more complaint, on God, I would make sure that each and one of you never sees the lights again.”

Coach Toji didn’t waste any second as he pushed you into the passenger seat. You tried to sob quietly beside your seething coach in his car. He didn’t say a word, just giving you space to calm down. His anger was out of his control but he wouldn’t want you to fear him while being in an unstable condition. He may have some unresolved anger issues but he is not an animal. 

You let your coach take you to wherever he wanted to take you. Knowing him, his players’ safety is under his guidance as well. So, he would never leave you in a place he doesn’t have his faith in. Instead, he brought you to his house by the campus. He’s been staying here for as long as you could remember. 

“Get inside,” Coach Toji instructed. You knew better than saying anything back so you obeyed. The door was unlocked by him and he rushed you inside. “Sit,” he pointed his index finger to the couch in the living room. 

His house was cozy even with the minimal decorations. No clutters except a number of beer cans on the dining table. Maybe he had a few drinks with people before this happened. You sat on the couch and the tears that overflowed before had left its stain on your face. Coach Toji went to his kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water before handing it to you.

“Tell me what happened.” The screeching sound of the chair being dragged across the marble floor interrupted the silence. Toji placed the chair in front of you and sat across you, manspreading with his elbows planted above his knees. His jet black hair hair was damp, sweats sticking on his forehead. The black t-shirt stretched against his muscular body every time he moved. 

You explained to him that you were buying dinner take outs for yourself and you were on your way home when you stumbled upon the group of guys. They were drunk catcalling you, terrifying you to walk past them. You were stuck because that path was the only way home and out of there. Calling Coach Toji was your only option because he lives near campus and could come to get you as soon as possible. 

Coach Toji let out a heavy sigh. “Those bastards,” he gritted through his teeth. He got up and stood in front of you, keeping both of his hands inside his pocket. 

“Do you know any self-defense?” He asked. 

As embarrassing as it gets, you never really learned basic self-defense. There is no time to learn because of the time you spend on volleyball practices. “No, Coach. Sorry, I don’t know any,” you blurted out. 

“Don’t,” he retorted. “Don’t apologise.” 

Your eyes met his stare. It was instinctive to apologise for not knowing any because most of the time you ever hold a conversation with this man is when he is scolding you or your team members. 

“Sorry, Coach.” It was too late to realise what just came out of your mouth. Another apology that Coach Toji refused to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disappointed. 

“You think you can sweat tonight?” Coach Toji asked. His black orbs held its gaze with yours for a moment. 

You were clueless but you just said yes to his question. “Good. I’ll teach you basic self-defense. Come closer,” he instructed. “Leave your bag and takeout bags. They are not coming with you.”

Oh, right. You were still holding your shoulder bag and takeout bags in your lap. Putting aside your belongings, you got up and straightened your pullover and jeans. 

Coach Toji’s eyes landed on your outfits. “Those jeans are not going to make do. Do you have your shorts on?”

Safety shorts. You always put them on every time you wear jeans because it’s easier that way. No underwear lines. “Yes,” you hastily answered. 

Coach Toji could feel blood rush to his groin. Fuck. But, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you. He wanted to teach you some basic self-defense moves so it would be useful. He would hate for you to use it though because he doesn’t want any bastards near you to put you in any danger. 

“Put them on,” he commanded. 

You nodded hesitantly. Coach Toji hurriedly looked away so you could take your jeans off. He noticed you were clearing your throat awkwardly so he assumed you’re done. He cleared his throat next, “Alright. Come forward.” 

You did as told. Coach Toji took a step forward too, “First, stand with your feet apart. Align it with your shoulders. You know this. It’s a basic stance.” Within a second, you prepared yourself in the first stance. Coach Toji let out a disapproved noise. He checked your stance and moved his hand to widen the stance of your legs. His skin brushed against your skin and the contact burned you. 

Coach Toji felt the warmth emitted from your skin. “Next, you put your hands up like this,” Coach Toji showed the moves. You tried following and he nodded after your stance convinced him that it’s correct. He let out a satisfied hum before moving closer to fix the stance. 

“The next move requires flexibility. Just like how you did in volleyball. It’s easy. Move your legs like this. Raise them higher,” Coach Toji’s large hands gripped on your left thigh and moved them upwards, lifting your legs to kick the air. 

You let out a deep sigh as you felt the burning sensation over your inner thighs. “I think I pulled a muscle,” you winced in pain. Coach Toji furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t think you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s just a light strain. 

“Sit down,” he pointed his index finger to the couch and you obliged. Coach Toji inspected your smooth thighs, his fingers running along your skin. His other hand gripped on your flesh with a firm grip. 

“I don’t think you pulled a muscle,” he confirmed. 

You bit on your lower lip. Maybe it was a false alarm? 

“Um, okay, Coach.”

Coach Toji raised one of his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t stretch properly.”

The tone of his voice was hinting on accusing you for not stretching properly. You felt offended somehow because you did stretch properly before learning the self-defense mechanism. But, it’s only normal for him to have an accusatory tone because that’s how he has always been. 

“Quiet already?” Coach Toji asked, staring straight into your eyes. He let out a heavy sigh again. “I thought you girls are so talkative even when I am around. Ya think I didn’t know what you guys were talking about me the other day?” 

Your heart dropped at the sudden mention of the other day’s incident. It’s none other than the woman herself who told him about it. Coach Toji had a good laugh after the woman told him about it. Well, she wasn’t wrong about it neither did his players. 

“I- well, we…” your words trailed off, not knowing where to begin to defend yourself. “It was a joke. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. I assure you it will not happen again.” 

“So, you think my sex life is a joke to you girls?” He blurted out. Coach Toji was not being serious about it but it was exciting to see the panicked look on your face. You looked so helpless right now and it rubbed his ego in the wrong way. 

Your cheeks heated, your breath became unsteady, palms turned colder the moment he said that in your face. No one was supposed to overhear the stupid conversation that put you in trouble right now. It was a foolish bet that could possibly hurt no one. But, luck wasn’t on your team’s side that day. Coach Toji’s girlfriend heard it all and placed her bet on it too. 

That stupid little game put you in trouble and you became the hero that saved your teammates the trouble. Gosh, being the hero doesn’t sound so good right now. Not with the killing stare Coach Toji was giving you. 

“Maybe it’s about time for me to stress that you girls really need to mind your own business. My sex life has nothing to do with you people,” Coach Toji sternly said. He noticed your jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowed when he scolded you for the mess that your teammates created. 

“Again, Coach. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. It was a foolish bet that has nothing to do with you,” you gulped, shaky eyes and heavy breaths. Coach Toji shrugged, dismissing your apologies. 

He found it funny that he didn’t find it offensive at all but God, did he try to control himself from not spoiling you right there and now. Coach Toji was about to lose everything on his goddamn mind seeing that innocent face of yours trying to make up for the team.

“Oh, sweetheart. If only you knew,” the man sighed. “Want to see it for yourself so you can brag to your teammates all about it?” 

Your eyes shivered. That wasn’t how you planned to describe what you were feeling in that moment but for sure your eyes did shiver! Every hairs on your body rose, skin prickled with heat in embarrassment or arousal – it was either of them, you were not quite sure which of them was it. 

“I- no, that is not what I meant,” you stuttered in your place. Both of your feet were stuck to the floor. You could not move an inch because Toji was staring daggers at you. His piercing gaze could kill you, steal all of your breaths and finally, leave your body on the floor. 

“Ever dreamed about me, doll?” Coach Toji took a step forward, and you could feel the warmth of his muscular body emitting. His black shirt hugging every inch of his biceps and that rock hard abs. The man brought his one hand over your face, cupping your delicate jaw. The friction between your shorts and the restraining tent on his pants flipped the switch in your brain. 

Your breath hitched again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you heard him whisper just beside your ears. His minty breath tickled your already heightened senses. Coach Toji’s palm landed on your stomach, pushing you onto the couch. His very much larger build hovered on top of you. 

That man’s mind was a battlefield. He didn’t know what he should do at this moment other than wrecking you. A part of him wanted to go gentle but he said fuck it, and just do whatever his guts were telling him to do. He could not waste this chance. He wanted to show you how a real man should satisfy his partner, though you aren’t really his to begin with. As long as you get to taste just an ounce of his intention, he’s fine with it. 

“Do you want this, doll? Whatcha say?” Coach Toji’s voice broke the silence again. Slowly, he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. 

Your breath staggered, chest rising up and down heavily. Without any hesitation, you nodded your head – not knowing what the future has in store for you. It was all in the heat of the moment and you could not deny the heat pooling in between your legs. 

Coach Toji’s lips caught your lower lip. Gently, he nibbled on the soft lips he sneakily admired from afar. The urge to just devour you was getting stronger each second. Coach Toji’s impatient hands almost ripped your shirt out. But then he thought you deserved better than that. He wanted to at least be respectful of your current state. He groaned into your mouth as his hands snuck their way in your shirt. His calloused hands lightly stroked your stomach, igniting a fire in your systems. 

You let out a soft pant as he removed your shirt for you. If it were up to him, the shirt would be ripped off in a millisecond but he was holding himself back. It was a surprise to him too. He was never patient, he would admit.

Coach Toji looked down to where your nipples were poking through the material of your bra. A smirk plastered across his face seeing you got aroused. Your back was comfortably laid on the couch and Coach Toji’s huge frame looming on top of you. The man’s minty breath ghosted over your neck, littering soft kisses on the thin skin. He sucked and nibbled on your skin, instantly decorating it with the red marks. 

Your fingers clawed on his ripped back, careful to not make it sting. Maybe it was the chemical reactions in your system, but you couldn’t defy the electrifying feeling to grind against the man’s forming tent. His lips left traces on your skin as he went lower and lower. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered once he situated his face in between your thighs. A smirk plastered across his manly, “sculpted by God himself” face. He roughly pulled down your pants, almost ripping the fabric into tiny pieces. He was growing impatient as time passed by. He couldn’t just stand there trying to refrain himself from spoiling you. You turned him this way, and he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Right now, you wanted to run away so bad. But, the way Coach Toji was looking at you as if you were the greatest gift that has ever happened to him, successfully changed your mind. The way his gaze glistened with pride once he undressed you naked. His eyes observing every inch of your body with the smug smile on his face. His calloused hands reached for your thighs, circling both of them with his hands. 

“So fucking tempting,” he grunted in his deep raspy voice. “How could I not love this sight?”  

Coach Toji continued to taunt you as your body squirmed underneath him. He couldn’t let himself be patient any longer. The man ensured you were watching him the moment he spat on your cunt, and you shivered feeling the warmth of the liquid. 

You felt a long lick along your folds, back arched against the couch with your eyes shut. A burning sensation electrified your whole body. This feeling made you feel like you were a brand new woman. Nothing ever felt like Coach Toji’s tongue, not even your exes. Is this because he’s far more experienced? But, God, was it so good that you almost cried that night. 

Coach Toji threw a look at you, eyes shut closed — not daring to meet his eyes. Cute. 

His tongue sucked and nibbled on your folds before it moved to your clit. A cry escaped past your lips as he sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. Your instant reflex was to tug on his hair and he was pissed off. But, he fucking loved the way you pulled on his hair when he was devouring you like this. So precious for him. And obedient too. He would do anything just to have you in his home again. 

“Ah! Please!” You cried out after trying so hard to keep your noises to yourself. You were panting heavily, eyes finally met the man’s piercing gaze staring up at you. The scar on his lips lifted as a smirk plastered across his face, daunting you with mischief. 

Coach Toji went back up, towering you once again. “Please what, doll? Use your big girl words. You’re a smart girl. Try harder.” 

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at his words. “Please… give me more, sir,” the word ‘sir’ hung in the air. Only Coach Toji’s steady breathing accompanied the silence. His blood rushed to his already half hard cock at the name you just called him. This might be the first time he is affected by the sound of your voice. 

“Give you what?” Coach Toji smirked. 

You gulped, your throat burned at throwing the words out of your mouth. Before you spoke, your breath hitched, stopping you to form coherent sentences. “Please use your cock on me, sir,” your lips trembled once you spat the words out loud. Loud enough for him to hear you. 

“Good. That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Let me stretch you out before I use my cock on you, hm, doll?” 

That statement gave you chills. You peeked at his fingers. The girth of his fingers made it hard for you to breathe. It’s gonna burn, for sure. Coach Toji commanded you to look at him. You got scared of his stern voice. With nervousness coiling your stomach, you kept your eyes on Coach Toji, paying attention to every one of his acts. 

He brought two of his fingers to his lips, wetting them in his mouth. Saliva coating his two fingers right after, followed by a loud pop sound. “Tell me if it hurts,” he muttered under his breath. Your back arched once again once you felt his two fingers slid so easily inside your cunt, penetrating the tight walls with its girth. Once his thumb found your clit, you felt this swirling feeling inside of your stomach. The circular motion got your head spinning and panting for more. 

Coach Toji watched your breasts bounce up and down with an awe smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes shut closed, hands clutching on the couch. Feeling his lust got the best of him, his mouth then covered one of your nipples and gave them a hard suck. Your breath hitched again before letting out audible moans. 

The squelching noises that filled his living room echoed in the back of your mind. Your moans and his grunts mixed all together. “C-coach, wait, wait,” you paused. 

His eyebrows furrowed when you called out for him. But, he didn’t pull his fingers out and kept his steady pace. Your face washed with pleasure and struggled to get the words out. 

“Wh-what about your girlfriend?” You finally uttered the question you have been meaning to ask before this happened. His girlfriend would kill you if she found out that her boyfriend is secretly screwing his student behind her back. 

“She is not my girlfriend,” he asserted. Coach Toji met your gaze, “Don’t worry about a fucking thing. You are mine tonight.” He dared to say that with his two fingers languidly stroking your insides, abusing your tight walls with pleasurable pain. 

You moaned once again, climax almost washed all over you. Coach Toji bit on his inner cheeks, grunting as he drew firm circles on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud to give you the orgasm that you never had before him. And when it hit, you found yourself screamed in a high-pitched scream as you had your first orgasm. You were gasping for air but Coach Toji covered your mouth with his addictive kiss. 

His sexy lips nibbled on your lower lip, softly sucking on your plump lip before he terrorised your mouth. As his one hand cupped your jaw, the other free hand rashly undid his pants and his briefs. Once he undressed himself, he let out a groan after breaking the kiss. He never wanted to let go of your lips at that moment. 

You looked down at his throbbing cock in his hand. The length and the girth gave you a second thought. 

Will it fit? 

Will it hurt? 

It’s terrifying enough just at the glance of his dick. 

“Bend your legs for me, love,” he murmured. When you did, he wasn’t satisfied. So, Coach Toji took the matter into his own hands and bent your legs as far as you could. You hissed in pain but surprisingly, he kissed the pain away. 

Coach Toji sighed the moment the warmth of your slick touched his cock. He slid his length along your folds, just rubbing it back and forth, tormenting you with hasty moves. You winced because of the sensitivity after coming down from your high. 

“It’s- it’s sensitive,” you cried a plea.

Coach Toji held your thighs open before he buried his cock inside you. God, it was so warm and he almost lost his mind that night. Your walls were squeezing around his tip so tight. He slowly bottomed out but that only made you cry louder. It was painful but in a good way. The pain was minimal because you were already stretched out by his fingers earlier. 

His head was thrown back once his length was fully inside you. Slowly, he rocked his hips to set his pace. You sobbed back a tear, watching his cock sliding in and out of you. Indescribable feelings clouded your mind, disabling you to form coherent sentences. His stroke was so damn good, you were sure you almost wished tonight to never come to its end. 

Your legs kept on closing against your will because of the building climax. Coach Toji grunted under his breath as his frustration grew from keeping your legs open. 

“You need to be more flexible, doll,” he hissed. “Your legs need to be stretched out more.”

Whatever he said didn’t make sense to you when he got you all speechless. You let him belittled you and all he ever received was a bunch of whines and cries. Coach Toji watched every single of your facial expressions as his cock hit every sensitive spot inside your inviting cunt. 

“Fuck, I already love your pussy, baby,” Coach Toji groaned before giving another thrust that gave you a loud moan. “I am not changing my mind about your pussy,” his minty breath hovered in the corner of your lips. His tongue slid into your mouth, his bare hand fondling and pinching on your hardened nipples. 

His pace was ruthless, leaving your tongue tied. You were sure it was going to leave you limping the following day. Coach Toji wrapped your legs around his waist, pounding into you so hard. You were nothing but tears and snots in the comfort of his living room. He introduced all sorts of new unlocked feelings that night. But, you couldn’t help thinking of the consequences of tonight’s event tomorrow and the day after. What will happen between the both of you? What if someone finds out?  How are you going to look at him in the eyes during practice? How’s your future going to look like? Are you just another one of his fucktoy? 

The overthinking collides with your urge to come around his cock for the second time. And he gave it to you willingly. The high that you never expected you’d experience in your lifetime. Truly, Coach Toji knows how to fuck. It leaves you wondering if he makes love just as good as he fucks. 

[brighteuphony]

I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

[raplinesmoon]

원샷! (One-shot!) - MYG x F!Reader

pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader genre(s): crack, fluff, brief smut au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet) word count: 3.1k warnings: cynical Yoongi, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, 20,000 different ways to say sperm, unhinged behaviour from OC and Yoongi, probably HIPAA non-compliance, intoxication, marijuana use, an almost-kiss, did I mention they're idiots (affectionate), mentions divorce (OC's parents), bi-panic from Yoongi, implied masturbation (m) rating: 18+

summary: Yoongi's friendship with you is the one bright spot in his life. So when you tell him you're ready to have a baby, he thinks this will finally be his shot to take your friendship to the next level. Cue a few shots of soju, and one insemination party, and Yoongi suddenly has a huge problem on his hands.

a/n: Old rom-coms (aka pre-2012) are the best. I was rewatching The Switch the other day and felt a burst of inspo to write this cute little au! This will probably be a oneshot (get it?) for now, but never say never! I hope you enjoy!

In his somewhat short career of practicing medicine, Yoongi had become an expert people-watcher, you could say. For instance, he’d been privy to the same morning commute as hundreds of other strangers in the city for the past five or so years. In fact, he was so used to seeing their faces that they didn’t seem like strangers at all. There was the old man who rode in the same car he did, always clutching what seemed to be a bouquet of flowers or a baked good. Maybe it was for his wife. Or his mistress. 

Yoongi puckers his lips sourly at the unsavory thought, shuddering at how cynical he’d become. Instead, he turns his attention to the girl sitting in the corner. She had to be in middle school, he thought. Only middle school could put that despondent look on the face of someone so young. Maybe she’d been jilted by a crush. Or more likely, she’d gotten a B on her math test and was about to walk into a lecture from her parents the moment she came home from school today. Yoongi knew the feeling all too well.

You see, it was Yoongi's job to be in the business of people. Being a doctor meant that he dealt with people all day long. They flitted in and out of his life like the flies that buzzed past his ears every time he entered the subway. And he always surprised himself with how much he could learn about them in a single meeting, or before they even walked into the room. 

Which is why nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him when he walked into the hospital cafeteria that morning. Sweat streamed down his back in rivulets from the summer heat, drenching his scrubs. And yet, he still insisted on grabbing a piping cup of black coffee from the drinks counter.

“It keeps me awake for longer,” he grumbled when the man at the checkout counter shot him a quizzical look.

His eyes scan the crowded array of chairs and tables outside the café, looking for the one person who could perk up the start to another grueling work day, even more than his cup of coffee was capable of. 

You wave to him enthusiastically from the crowd, bouncing up and down like a child waiting for a lollipop. It was probably from all the kids you hung around with all day. Peds was no joke, and Yoongi admired your ability to keep a bright, starry-eyed attitude when his own stomach turned at the thought of sick children.

“Please don’t tell me you saw another man with flowers who might be cheating on his wife,” you raise an eyebrow at the scowl on his face as he approaches the table. “Either that or today’s the day you finally regret not getting an iced coffee.”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, annoyed yet also mildly amused by your teasing.

“I told you, it–”

“It keeps you awake for longer, I know, I know,” you beam at him.

“It’s actually neither of those things,” he groans. “Today it was the old lady in the elevator who asked me what year of high school I was in.”

“That’s what you get for having a stupidly perfect face,” you quip, waving your fork at him. “You know Seungkwan from Derm would freak if he knew you only washed your face with bar soap?!”

Although you chuckle at your own joke, Yoongi can’t help the way his heart twists at your words, resisting the heat that rises to his cheeks when you compliment his face. But before he can think about it too long, he falters, noticing that your attention is buried deep within your pile of scrambled eggs, and you’re unable to look him in the eyes.

“You know, Seungkwan from Derm would also tell you that frowning causes premature wrinkles, ___,” Yoongi responds, and you lift your head up, eyebrows furrowed in worry. His hand twitches, and he fights the urge to reach out and squeeze your hand to reassure you everything will be alright.

You finally reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper.

“Look at these labs,” you push the paper towards him. “What do they say to you?”

Yoongi stares intently at the paper, trying to piece together this patient’s story, despite you failing to provide any helpful demographic information.

“Iron count, a full blood panel, HcG, any infectious diseases, genetic markers—” Yoongi pauses when he realizes. “You’ve got a pregnant kid on your hands?”

The paper is snatched from his hands before he can finish, your face redder than a tomato.

“No silly, it’s not a kid. I-it’s me. Those are my levels. Do you think they look okay?”

Yoongi can’t prevent his jaw from dropping wide open. He’s sure he must look like an idiot, staring blankly while you blink your eyes, waiting for him to respond.

“You’re having a baby?” he chokes out. The sick, twisty feeling in his stomach has returned, only this time it's a thousand times worse.

“Not yet. But I’m trying,” you admit sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

“So what, you want me to have sex with you?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself, and he immediately sees you freeze. Sometimes he really hated that he had no filter when it came to his thoughts. That, combined with the fact that he’d had a crush on you since you nearly knocked him over with your Heelies during his first week of work, and Yoongi had found himself in a sticky situation more often than not.

“No!” you immediately blurt out, growing more flustered when Yoongi frowns. “Not that, I mean–, that’s totally beside the point, completely irrelevant to my clinical question, I, I– I’m using a sperm donor okay!”

For the second time in a matter of minutes, you’ve rendered Yoongi completely speechless.

“Is this about Kihyun?” he finally asks. “Or Doyoung? You know, I know you haven’t had the best track record with relationships in the past, but jumping into having a baby with a random guy is definitely not the solution!”

“It’s not about them!” you sputter, unable to stop your voice from rising. “It’s about me, okay! My choice to be an independent woman, raising a child, who doesn’t need a man to help her at all! I get paid well, I have all the resources I could dream of, a strong support system. My life is in session!”

Yoongi has to bite back at chuckle at you quoting one of the various hospital brochures that decorated every reception desk and spare table. 

“So are you gonna help me find some jizz, or not?!” you finish, only to look around and realize nearly a dozen pairs of eyes are on you. Perhaps you’d said that last part a little too loudly.

“I-, I gotta go,” you whisper, slinging your bag over your shoulder and running as fast as you can out of the cafeteria, leaving a wistful Yoongi to ponder over the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to finish your breakfast.

You might have thought that breakfast was the end of your baby-making discussion, but judging by the way Yoongi cornered you immediately during the mid-afternoon patient lull, it seemed he hadn't.

“So you’re looking for, uh, semen,” he says, mortified when the charge nurse on your floor whips her head around to glare at him. He pulls you into an alcove by the windows, immediately realizing what a wrong move that was when he can smell the strawberry shampoo you’d used this morning, or count each one of your long eyelashes.

“What’s wrong with mine?” he asks innocently, before realizing he’d messed up yet again. The uncomfortable look on your face tells him as much.

“Listen, Yoongi, I’m sure you have great sperm, killer sperm even. Not in a murder-y way, you know, but like in a Darwinian kinda way. But we’re best friends, wouldn’t that be weird?”

“We don’t have to have sex, you know. I could just nut in a cup and hand it to you. I mean we’ve literally cleaned vomit off each other, how weird could this be?”

A strangled giggle erupts from your throat, and you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet. Yoongi knows you well enough to know your untapped anxiety is preventing you from saying what you really want.

“Okay, spit it out ___.”

“Well, no offense, Yoongi, but you’re kind of neurotic. And not to mention a little pessimistic, maybe even nihilistic…”

“Damn, ___. You could have just said you didn’t want my swimmers. No need to hit a man where it hurts.”

You smile, fondly recalling the time you two played for the hospital basketball team, only for Yoongi to suspend you when your pass had gone awry and smacked him straight in the balls.

“Oh please, you recovered just fine. And we still won the championship that year against the nurses.”

The smile Yoongi forces out of him is no match for the way his heart is breaking underneath. But he looks at you, eyes sparkling and so excited about the prospect of having a baby, and immediately sets his own feelings aside. He could do this. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, your happiness was his number one priority. 

“Okay, I’ll help.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you crush him in a too-tight hug, his arms wrapping around you stiffly, before melting into it. Normally he would have pushed anyone else off by now, but you’d always been his exception to every rule he’d ever set for himself.

“So, what do you think about Hoseok from Finance?”

Yoongi freezes at the mention of the happy-go-lucky man with the heart-shaped smile and how he could immediately charm the pants off of anyone within his vicinity.

“Absolutely not,” he grumbles, walking away.

“Oh come on, why not? He has great fashion sense, can pull off any hair color, the nurses say he can dance well… Yoongi, YOONGI!”

After a tumultuous few months, which involved a rather precarious incident in which Yoongi had nearly gotten fired when he locked Taehyung, a cardiology fellow, in the bathroom after he’d gotten a bit too handsy with you at a party, Yoongi opens his apartment door one Saturday morning to find a comically large pink envelope on the outside.

The dozens of sperm-shaped balloons that fall out of the card have him jolting in surprise, and he looks up to find his across-the-hall neighbours, a mom and her daughter, staring at him dumbfoundedly, before swiftly slamming their door shut in his face.

I’m Getting Pregnant… And You’re Invited, the garish pink letters on the invitation read, and Yoongi wants to tell the stupid card to go shove all the balloons up its ass when he realizes in horror that you’d finally decided on someone. Without him.

Standing in the hallway with the huge mess around him, Yoongi wonders how despite changing people’s lives every day, he’d always managed to fall behind when it came to his own.

. . .

The obnoxious EDM bumping in your apartment is enough to make Yoongi’s ears bleed. Tugging at his hoodie, his eyes scan the crowd of people, recognizing more than a few people from the hospital. Frowning, he tries to run each one of them through his mind, wondering if you’d gone with Hoseok from Finance after all.

“Dr. Min!” Yoongi nearly chokes on his drink when Jimin from HR comes up to him, landing him a good-natured slap on the back. “You made it!”

“What the hell are you doing here, Jimin?” Yoongi deadpans. “Shouldn’t you be reporting this shit? I thought all this was supposed to be protected under HIPAA!”

“We’re all HIPAA-compliant here, Yoongi, except you,” Jimin chortles, before smirking at him. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re the only one in your department who hasn’t submitted their training modules yet.”

“I-, I’ve been busy! You know, actually taking care of patients and stuff.” Yoongi knows Jimin is joking, but somehow still feels the need to defend himself. 

“I’m sensing some negative energy from you, Yoongi,” Jimin drawls, and Yoongi is sure he has to be drunk, waving what looks like a turkey baster in his face. “This is ___’s moment! We should all be happy for her!”

“Oh I’m sooo happy,” Yoongi grumbles, disappearing into the crowd to look for you.

“Dr. Min!” another voice calls out to him. “Wanna take a hit?”

Yoongi turns to see Jungkook, one of the medical students rotating in his unit, offering him a lit joint.

“Put that damn thing away, Jeon!” Yoongi scolds him, before backtracking. “On second thought, gimme that.”

All Jungkook can do is blink in surprise when Yoongi takes a drag of the joint, immediately feeling his irate energy subside just a tiny bit. Still, he was antsy. Where were you?

Yoongi takes another few hits, downs a few shots of soju and he’s overcome with the munchies. Reaching for the hummus and pita chips, he groans when the dip plops down, staining his pristine white hoodie. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” another disembodied voice calls out to him. Yoongi looks up at the sound, and is immediately taken aback.

Yoongi’s sure he’d never seen this dude at the hospital before. He was like, freakishly pretty. Tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and pink lips. He blinks, trying not to panic at the attractive man swiping the stain off his shirt.

“Yoongi!” you appear out of nowhere, wrapping him in another crushing hug. “I see you’ve met Seokjin.”

“I’m the donor,” the man called Seokjin reaches a hand out for him to shake, offering a blinding smile.

Fuck. Of course this stupidly attractive man was your sperm donor. Of course you’d want to have his baby. He was literally perfect. You probably had a crush on him. Hell, Yoongi kind of had a crush on him. 

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you drunkenly lean on Yoongi for support. “You two have fun talking though!”

“___’s great,” Seokjin grins. “Super nice. Pretty hot too.”

“Why are you doing this?” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “I mean no offense, a guy like you, you could probably have anyone.”

“Ahh yeah,” Seokjin ruffles his hair, and Yoongi grits his teeth at how he still manages to look perfect doing that. “Money’s tight these days. A PhD in astrophysics at Harvard doesn’t exactly come cheap.”

Before Yoongi can make another smart comment, Seokjin is whisked away by Jimin and Hoseok from finance, the men slapping him on the back, hollering that it’s time to do the deed. He sees you disappear into your own room nervously, and can’t help himself from following you.

“Everything okay, ___?”

“NO!” you’re nearly bouncing off the walls. And there’s no kids to entertain in sight. “I’m freaking out!”

Yoongi’s next to you in seconds, taking you in his arms and letting your head lean against his shoulder. He’d discovered how much it calmed you down after one drunken night out where you’d basically recalled your childhood trauma from your parents’ divorce.

“Do you think I’m crazy, Yoongi? I want this so bad, but maybe this is the wrong way to go about it.”

“I think you want a family, ___. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Uncle Yoongi to the rescue.”

You giggle at his words, a dazed look in his eyes.

“You do act like a total dad.”

There’s a brief pause, silence falling in between you two. Your eyes peer into Yoongi’s and for a moment, he could swear you lean in, the shiny pink gloss on your lips sparkling in the dim light—-

Only to be interrupted by Jungkook bursting into the room, grabbing your hand and telling you its finally time.

One shot, Yoongi had promised himself. Only now he’s ten shots of soju deep and hiding in the fucking bathroom while the party rages on outside. The colors on the wall blend into each other, and Yoongi’s head throbs trying to figure out what he’s looking at. He smiles to himself when he sees its your meticulous pregnancy planning chart, filled with labs and calendars and lists of medications.

Lifting himself up off the floor, he stumbles, bracing himself against the toilet. He was about to hurl. In his stupor he hears something clatter, off to the side.

“Is someone in there?” the nervous voice of Kim Namjoon, one of the hospital’s talented surgeons, calls out from the other end. “I have to pee!”

Namjoon’s voice breaks Yoongi out of his daze, and he looks at the object lying on the floor.

Cum. A whole bucket’s worth of it, it looked like. The creamy white substance now lies swirling in your toilet bowl, and he feels his heart drop to his ass when he realizes it’s Seokjin’s. Oh fuck! It was Seokjin’s sample. Aka the sample you were supposed to shoot up in mere moments, to have the baby you’d been dreaming of for so long.

Yoongi tugs at his hair, wanting to scream at himself for ruining your plans, all because of his own stupidity. You’d be so mad at him. You’d probably yell at him in front of the entire hospital, hands on your hips, and your face would go all red.

He’s horrified when his dick twitches to life at the image of you cursing him out. How was it his fault that you were so hot and he was idiotically attracted to you?

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Yoongi looks down again, caught in a face-off with Min. Jr. This was a very big problem with a very simple solution.

The pounding in his head continues as Yoongi drops his pants, getting right to work.

. . .

Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t remember much about the night of your party. He thinks it’s a blessing, at least until you pounce on him in the hospital cafeteria a couple of weeks later.

Something about you is different, he thinks. You’d always been pretty but now you’re stunning, practically glowing from the inside out. He wonders if it has anything to do with stupidly handsome Seokjin when you tap him on the shoulder.

“It worked!” you blurt out, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m pregnant!”

Suddenly, it all comes back to Yoongi. His jealousy over Seokjin, the two of you nearly kissing in your room, the cup spilling into the toilet, the way Yoongi came with your name on his lips.

Shit.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[angelickks]

Miguel Headcanons: Mrs. O'Hara - Two

3k+ - husband!Miguel O'Hara x spider-wife! reader

summary: Mr & Mrs. O'Hara, again! warnings: no real smut but still suggestive content! so mdni. back pain, bcuz of spider duties but nothing graphic. suggested switch! miguel omfg. fluffy/that lovey dovey shit. lmk if I missed some! pretty tame aside from me sprinkling suggestive stuffs ;) notes: heyyy, the long-awaited part 2 is here. but this time with me dabbling in some spice. slight au ofc. i rlly enjoyed writing this, got a few things in the works. besides that, enjoy my loves! this was extremely self indulgent

pt. 1!

Your husband is and has always been bark and bite, it’s common knowledge 

But god is he literally the softest man you’ve ever met

You’re his world and more, his life through and through

He craves your love and attention, always 

In public, he HAS to be touching you in some way has and will throw a tantrum

But when in private? He’s literally all over you 

“Lyla honey, can you pull up last week's mission reports please?” You called out, scrolling aimlessly through a plethora of your husband’s holo-screens. Lyla’s familiar orange hue showed up by your right shoulder, “Hey mama, you got it. Mind telling me what exactly you're looking for, pretty lady?” She asked with a familiar teasing tone. You gave her a sly smirk before answering “In search of Hobie and I’s latest report, I needed to add a follow-up.” She dissipated briefly before reappearing next to the holo-screen you were occupying and pulling up the documents. You thanked her before she blew you a playful kiss and dissipated once more. “Mi reina?” Miguel called out softly, “You up there?” You walked to the edge of his platform and shot him a goofy smile, answering his question. You begin to lower the platform before you return to working the screens. Miguel frowns as he’s greeted with the sight of your back to him but quickly takes the opportunity to grab the new swivel chair (before you he had no chairs, up until he just utilized a shitty old one. Since having to work in his office more frequently you’ve been adding upgrades and decided to start with the chairs) and pulled it behind you, wrapping his arms around your thighs 

“How was your debrief, love?”

He grunted pulling you closer, nuzzling his face into the middle of your back while caressing your thighs. You chuckled at the action, used to his clinginess. 

“That bad huh, honey?” You teased, earning you a soft smack to your lower stomach. He lifted his head for a second before letting it fall back into place followed by another grunt. “Talk to me caveman, I don’t speak grunt.” Another soft smack. He attempts to get you to sit on his lap but it’s your turn to give him a small smack, reminding him that you have to finish the report or you’ll forget again. “I could’ve done it for you mami. Just leave it.” His arms found their home around your thighs again, this time a little tighter to secure you in place. “He speaks, how wonderful” you reply sarcastically, still seemingly unfazed by his behavior. You can feel him pouting behind you, before letting out what you can only identify as a cross between a whine and groan. That makes you break and start giggling at his childish behavior, finally giving him the satisfaction of falling into his lap. Without fail, he presses his face into your neck and moves to wrap his arms around your middle to make sure you don’t try and get away again. You maneuver your hand to scratch at his scalp, earning you a groan of appreciation.

“You smell so nice cariño,” He sighed, pressing a soft kiss in the junction between your neck and shoulder. You hum and let him cuddle you, assuming that the debrief this morning was a little hard on him. You’re a fool for thinking his intentions are innocent as you’re met with the familiarity of his teeth softly sinking into your pulse point. It’s almost embarrassing at the way you preen at the sensation, and you feel the cockiness radiating off of Miguel. The way his lips curl into a smug smirk, and his hands take the opportunity to softly squeeze your jaw and grant himself the access he needed. Through half-lidded eyes, you remember exactly where you are, and while you’re no saint to that happening here; that familiar beep of his watch brought you to your senses. You could feel the irritation practically oozing off of him, as you turned to face him with a quirked brow “Answering that one? It’s Jess.” He lifted his head to reveal his irritated expression and lightly poked your cheek with his pointer figure, “Maybe if I just let it ring, she won’t bother…” He murmured to himself, greedy hands switching to kneading your thighs before you scoff and answer it for him. 

“MI- Oh god.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What?” He asked harshly. 

You flicked his forehead as he snarled at the hologram, “He meant to say yes. What’s up, honey?” You spoke up, narrowing your eyes at the impatient man below you. 

“Hey, mama. Miguel, you’re needed, like right now. So I suggest you wrap this up.” She wagged her finger back and forth, motioning to the two of you tangled together

He flat-out ended the call after that, letting out a dramatic sigh. He dropped his head between your shoulder blades and planted a kiss there. “Go now,” You softly demanded before standing up with a stretch, turning to face him. The look on his face was priceless, pure frustration paired with an angry pout. You couldn’t help but laugh before he moved excruciatingly slowly out of his office, but not before giving you one last kiss followed by a smack to your ass. 

 The nickname “mama” honestly stemmed from how much Miguel had called you “mami” I witnessed this my whole life and it is by far my favorite term of endearment so everyone be quiet

Both Lyla and Jess picked up on it quickly and had so lovingly started calling you it to fuck with Miguel. But it really just stuck. 

But despite the playful nickname, it really rang true 

You were a caretaker at heart, it shined in everything you did 

From fieldwork to HQ assignments, you looked after everyone you were involved with 

Now everyone who knew you beforehand was aware of this, great friend or friendly colleague 

But not everyone was aware of the fact and it was a feat to deal with those who took it as something else 

You handled numerous duties, and recruitment was one of them. You and Jess had handled a lot of backbone assignments, which allowed you to be on the field, but a lot of it required intense research on spider people. So when a new spider landed on your radar, it didn’t hurt to work your magic. He had been bitten only six months prior and had a background in scientific research. It would be difficult to get a brand new spider across to Miguel, but his skill set held a lot of potential. 

So with much deliberation between you all, you settled on your brand new recruit. He was ambitious, yet very naive. Despite the fact, you wanted to give him a chance. Walking him through Sector 13 was a breeze, and while he may be naive, you weren’t. Yes, it was technically on you for bringing him in, but that didn’t mean you were anticipating his innocent flirting. You’ve seen this time and time again, young and feeling a light ego boost from being Spider-man. 

You brushed it off with ease, professionalism always being a top priority. With that being said, you deflected his advances and went on with business as usual. When you had taken into account his persistence, you should’ve known he would’ve been the same way in his flirting. 

“As you’ve witnessed, HQ is divvied up into a multitude of sectors. But for right now I’ll be taking you to Sector 8 to run diagnostics and to introduce you to Miguel O’Hara” 

He nodded eagerly before questioning, “That’s the man Jessica mentioned previously, the boss?” You politely nodded, “I see. What’s he like anyway? Anything to anticipate?” You honestly would have rolled your eyes in any normal setting, having to describe your husband was interesting, to say the least. “I think you’ll know when you meet him” you chuckled airily, he smirked “While on the topic of getting to know one another. How about you? Will I be getting to know you?” While blatantly flirting, he was quite nervous, making his voice crack just a little toward the end of his question. 

“I’m sure you will be, while I do play a part in recruitment, I also do fieldwork so I’m sure our paths will cross from time to time,” Another polite deflection. He was a sweet man, truly, but it would be best if he didn’t find himself landing on your husband’s bad side on his first day. You went on with the tour, mental checklist depleting as you ran him through the operations. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t kept Miguel’s office last on the checklist. 

As you trekked through the “evil lair,” you heard him mumbling to himself about how inaccessible the place was, an off-handed joke to see if you’d laugh. You gave him a kind smile, still in professional mode. You two finally found yourselves below the platform, and you honestly should’ve expected the dramatic silence as he lowered it excruciatingly slow. You rolled your eyes, drama queen, you thought to yourself. You felt him nudge you lightly, “Is..is it always like this?” You giggled quietly, “Yes, yes it is. Please don’t mind him.” You could feel Miguel’s scowl towards the man before you had even caught a glimpse of it, but when he had turned around he resembled what you could only describe as a peeved cat, claws and all. 

You introduced the recruit coolly, “And this is Miguel O’Hara.” You could tell he was nervous, and was he subtly hiding behind you? Oh, please take it easy on him Miguel. “Nice to meet you sir-” The man couldn’t even get out a full sentence, “Please, there’s no need for pleasantries.” Your eyes hurt from how much you were rolling them at this point, shooting him an unimpressed look. “Well, um…I wanted to thank you for this opportunity. I admire your work here, as from one scientist to another-” If even possible, Miguel’s glare hardened “Again, no need for pleasantries. Mrs. O’Hara here has well informed me of your background and I will say, I do not need another reminder.” 

You could’ve shot a web over his mouth at this exact moment. Miguel always kept an eye out for you, and that meant him utilizing abusing the plethora of surveillance around HQ. You should’ve known better, he had indefinitely caught his flirting. 

“Oh I didn’t even realize that, oh my god, I am so sorry-” Did not catch a break whatsoever, “Mrs. O’Hara, My wife.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, this fucking man. “Yes, Mrs. O’Hara. Please excuse me, If I had known I swear I would not have done anything” Miguel nodded slowly, but not yet satisfied. “We both greatly value professionalism, so be very careful with how you conduct yourself here. You’ve been briefed, Jessica will be coming to retrieve you outside of my office. You’ll be assigned your first mission after training. Feel free to excuse yourself, preferably right now.” He answered flatly, enjoying the sight of him squirming. 

As quickly as he came, he was gone. You stood there, arms crossed, paired with a scowl of your own. It was almost like you two were having a staring competition, seeing which one would break first. It was until your chests were nearly touching you felt Miguel’s hand brush against your hip. You went to flick his hand, but being two steps ahead he caught your hand, “Not quick enough are we, Mrs. O’Hara?” Smug asshole. You pulled your hand away, gently switching to rub at his chest. You were teasing him, he knew that, but he was very curious about your next move as you were getting closer to his neck. You took your time tracing his collarbones, before moving to cup the side of his neck and rubbing your thumb along his throat enjoying how his Adam’s apple bobbed. You didn’t miss the way he subtly tilted his head back, just a smidge, now it was your turn to be smug. But instead, you swiftly moved your hand to the back of his neck, bringing it down just a little, making it so his lips barely brush against your own. You could hear his heartbeat, not missing the way it quickened at your actions. You kept him there for a few seconds, wanted to see if he’d even try and go for it, you could’ve laughed at how right you were. You caught his movement, digging your nails into the back of his neck as a warning. You scoffed at his submission, 

“Jealous are we, Mr. O’Hara?” 

Some days, you two played the game of cat and mouse 

Who was the cat or the mouse? Depended on the day 

But on stressful days, you two seemed to be so in tune with each other 

Despite not sharing spider senses, Miguel always and I mean always knew when you were stressed and vice versa 

As mentioned previously, you two held a lot of responsibility in the Spider-Society 

So on days when it comes too much, you’re both there to be each other’s comfort 

“Fuck,” you hissed as you go to maneuver your body gingerly onto the top of the ledge of a building, patrolling. It didn’t help when the late-night drizzles of the city slowly started to turn into ice-cold raindrops. You could’ve laughed at the irony of the situation, your back aching from a very slippery brawl that occurred during last night's patrol. It had been pouring for a few days, bringing out the pungent smell of Earth-65’s city along with the unknown that lurked in the shadows. You’ve been a little more on edge, the downpour has been having some serious repercussions on your back. There was no doubt that you were a very agile fighter, but when water is added to the mix it makes you just a tad bit clumsy the way this is actually me in real life and I unintentionally self-inserted here.

So here you were, your sore and slightly bruised back being offered a fiercely ice-cold soothe from the rain. Stars are utterly drowned out by the ambient lights, and your senses are unpleasantly filled with the smell of sulfur mixed and the musk of damp concrete causing you to scrunch up your face under your mask. Focus, the massage gun can deal with the back pain you remind yourself of, the patrol at hand. 

If it wasn’t for the icy reminder, you honestly would’ve forgotten what you were doing on Earth-65. Gwen had been off, the both of you splitting up in order to cover ground. An anomaly has been a real pain in the ass for the past few days, managing to slip from your grasp, the source of your back pain. Gwen had specifically asked for you to come with her, you’ve been training with her recently to help her build progress while on missions. She felt more at ease with you there, and you could not turn her down after knowing that. You’re met with an orange glow by your side, a small smile coming to your lips. “Hey, mamas. Just wanted to let you know, Miguel is gonna pop in soon to take the mission from here. Talk about drama!” She exclaimed, picking at her nails. You gave her a confused look, “Uh…Lyla, honey, I’ve got this covered.” She tsked and giggled at the comment, “Oh I don’t doubt it, ma. But what I do doubt is that back pain you’re feeling, after adding some software updates to that pretty little number you got on I’ve been able to read your vitals along with that pain. You’re experiencing some bruising from that blow you took last night, along with some concerning muscle straining. Therefore, Dr. Miguel is ordering you out on this one sweetie.” You groaned, she was right but you needed to get this finished, you needed to be there for Gwen. But without further protest, you see the familiar split as a portal opened. In all of his glory, there stood your husband, and you know he had a quizzical look under the mask. 

“Mi vida, why aren’t you headed home? You need rest…”He said softly, voice full of concern. You move to hug his middle, his body temperature a stark contrast from the cold, putting you at ease. “Amor, I can do this. Gwen needs me and I understand-” 

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, “Stop. I understand, but you need to go home right now. I’ll be there in a few hours to help but right now I need you at home, in bed. Quit pouting, it’s not gonna help your case.” You sighed, he knew, he always knew. Usually, you’d resist, be stubborn and carry on, but god was the ache in your back really starting to irritate you. “Don’t take this as me accepting defeat, this is all in the name of medical concerns.” You mumbled, forehead resting against his chest. “Oh is that the great, amazing Spider-Woman accepting defeat? I don’t know, it really sounds like it.” You let out an annoyed sigh, “You want me to go home or not? Because we can hash this out together.” He snorted at your sarcasm before softly smacking the side of your thigh. “Go home mi reina, I’ll be there soon.” You nodded, not wanting to argue any further, you lifted your mask just below your nose. He smirked, letting his dissipate to reveal the bottom half of his face as well. The kiss is full of passion, a little rushed, but effectively showed your love and genuine concern. You didn’t expect the light pressure of fangs sinking into your bottom lip before you slowly pulled away, watching him release your lip with a cocky smirk. “Malo” you murmured teasingly. You shoved him lightly, before opening your own portal and heading home. 

“Mi reina,” You stirred, eyes still closed, Miguel’s scent overtaking your senses. You felt your body be gently flipped onto your stomach, you were going to question the action until you felt his skilled hands working exactly where your pain was. You let out a whimper, the pressure stinging just a bit. He shushed you quietly, “I got you. Just relax.” You listen to his soft command, the pain starting to ease up. You were too tired to hide the noises you were making, letting them flow throughout the house as his thumbs massaged your lower back. “See how great it is when you listen to me, mami?” You lazily kick at his thigh as he readjusts himself to straddle your thighs, earning you a small ‘oof,’ a lazy smirk making its way to your lips at the noise. “Fine, I’ll be quiet,” You hummed, you were dozing back off into sleep at this point, your back feeling much better now. But it was when you felt his hands drift lower was when your eyes peeked back open to watch him. “Tryna get action down there? Good luck with getting me to do that, my back is sorta bruised, you see.” You felt him roll his eyes before he started to knead your thighs, earning him a soft moan from you. “Who said you need to do anything besides sit there and be pretty amor?” That made you giggle, “Touché, my love.” 

You let him continue on with his ministrations, only half-awake. But he went back to massaging your back, continuing until it lulled you to sleep. He rolled over beside you, turning his body to face your sleeping one, he gingerly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Te amo, mami.” You both fell asleep, your bodies finding their way to each other throughout the night. That night Nueva York started to rain as well, the soft patter of the rain on the window only adding to both of your comforts.  

That morning was spent tangled up together as well, but this time very awake and with you thanking Miguel in his favorite way. 

BONUS!

“MIGUEL!” As if on queue, his head started to ache. “Fuck,” he grumbled “Jess, yes. How are you?” He replied sarcastically. She stormed up to him, the hands on her hips emphasizing her annoyance. “Why the HELL are you scaring the newbie? Over something he didn’t know of ALL things?!” Her shouting was turning his ache into a full-blown headache. “Next time tell him to be a goddamn professional and not flirt with my wife.” He muttered, arms crossing in the process. “Oh yeah, professional. Shall I remind you of last week’s little chat? Remember the one with you practically groping-” He groaned loudly, “Don’t even start-” She let a sarcastic laugh, “Me? Start with you? NEVER!”

He was reminded of why he stayed in his office, far from everyone else. 

xtras! hehe lmk what y'll thought of this one. my inbox is open to requests btw, check my pinned post! luv u all, have an amazing day/night/afternoon! 🩶🕷️

tags<3 - @miguelslefteyebrow , @darksidescorner

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER II - sponsalia

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, mention of drugs, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, sexual tension

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER III

sponsalia (n.) engagement

The heavy rain casts a hazy veil over the world around her and the sound of them reminds her of the storm that rages within. The last memory is coming through the light once she opens her eyes and sees, now, familiar surroundings. Lost and trapped. She wishes this to be only a mere nightmare she will wake up from. Her voice sore and barely audible, she whispers into the quiet room illuminated by the fire from the fireplace, “Why did you let this happen, my lord?” Knowing deep down that her question will remain unanswered, she longs for just one response—

“A twist of fate, perhaps, my little dove.”

She does not dare to turn herself to the voice, never before feeling such overwhelming fear. Her heart aches with sadness and is reigned by fear and perhaps a tinge of disappointment at her inability to escape and flee the spars of this world.

“No courage now? You displayed enough when you injured one of my men,” he chuckles with a sly grin, thoroughly intrigued by the woman lying in his bed.

“Is he alright?” She rises from the bed, unaware that every word she utters draws him even deeper.

“Are you concerned for his well-being or worried that this sin will lead you to hell?” He arches an eyebrow, curiously expecting her answer.

Lowering her gaze to her trembling hands, she stammers, “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just needed to get away.”

‘A pure soul,’ he contemplates silently. This very woman might just be his endgame. He is determined but wishes to interrogate more. Seizing the opportunity when her guard momentarily falters, he taunts.

“Get away from me? Or was there something else, darling?” He knows he knows it all and a lot more, yet he is so intrigued to hear it from her.

“Can I leave?”

“No, —” he said quickly “—I asked you a question.”

“Why can’t I leave?” Y/N asked again, more determined to get a real answer once she started to feel an epiphany about her situation.

“Why would you want to leave?” he counters.

And for once, she started to think strongly about what awaits her once she leaves. Apart from her oppressive home, where punishment or death looms, she has nowhere else to go. Y/N failed to get away.

“Are you from the Yakuza?” she mutters, finally realising he never disclosed his identity.

“Min Yoongi,” he simply uttered his name, knowing it will answer her question. Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing gets shallow.

“Will you answer my question…. Y/N?”

Her heart races, desperately trying to regain control of her breath, but her mind remains scattered. Min. His name echoes in her mind. He stands before her, the man her father would never make peace with. It always comes down to two choices — either they strike a deal or engage in a bloody war, murdering each other’s men. Here he is, right in front of her. She has fallen into the arms of the enemy. Not only will her father punish her for running away, but now she also faces another punishment for being caught by an enemy.

“It seems there is a lot on your mind now, darling. Let me alleviate some of your burdens,” he says standing up from the low armchair by the fireplace, walking towards the bed. Her instincts urge her to retreat, her eyes welling up with tears of sorrow and fear.

“Don’t be afraid of me. If you play your cards right and obey, I promise nothing will happen to you, my love,” he murmurs, using a term of endearment that catches her attention.

“That’s it, baby. Breathe and calm down,” he whispers soothingly.

She locks eyes with him, drawn into their depths, a place where few dare to venture. Nobody dares to look directly into the leader’s eyes. She, even in this state, does so.

“Your father can’t punish you no more. You can find the freedom you seek by my side,” he says, his gaze fixed on her, memorizing every detail.

“What do you mean?” She asks with a newfound venom in her voice.

“You think I would allow your old man to marry you off to Yamamoto’s retarded excuse of a son and assure Tokyo’s alliance with Hong Kong?” He laughs.

“Heaven sent you to me, my love.” he continues, a sickly chuckle escaping his lips.

“And if you’re wondering how it benefits me to have you here, darling, I believe you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

She realises that if she refuses to marry the yakuza boy, the alliance will crumble, and her father will lose leverage against Seoul and the Mins who reign here. Y/N didn’t plan to marry a Yakuza man nonetheless, but she for sure never planned to stay in the middle of the chess board.

“I must admit, I found it admirable that you’ve managed to run away from China, through Luen’s north side, to our territory in the south, very brave,” he points out, acknowledging her efforts. “—and get to Jeju, right to Chan-yeol—” he says.

“You made it so easy for me. Thank you for that.” There is a hint of pleasure in his voice when he continues to speak.

“I bet your Sire didn’t expect that at all,” he grins. “You have a fire in you, my dear, —” he focuses back on her, “—and I cannot wait to tame you,” his voice shifting from casual to intimidating.

“You will make a fine wife,” Yoongi states.

“I’ll be no one’s wife. You must think me a fool if you believe I’ll marry you or anyone else from your circus,” she spits out defiantly. He stares at her silently.

“Careful,” he finally warns, surprising her with his calm demeanour. To get or inherit the position of leader, one must possess the patience of steel and a wise, calculating mind. All this and more, is embodied in the young leader, Min.

“I have my ways to persuade you that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. You’ll realise that along the way,” he says, seemingly playing with her mind. ’Lord, please, you must have mistaken me for someone else,’ she silently prays.

“Care to elaborate?” she dares to ask.

“Your little cousin and her husband, and their little adorable son —” he trails off.

“You wouldn’t,” she quickly interrupts him.

“Oh, I would, darling. And even more. What about your sister, hmm? Isn’t she turning eighteen soon? My right-hand man is ready to take a wife...” he taunts.

“You cannot play with lives! Not with mine or others —” she snaps.

“Yes, I can, my little butterfly—” he says, gripping her chin forcefully and bringing her closer to his face, locking eyes with her.

“People follow me and worship me as if I were a god. My wife won’t be excluded. Or do you wish for bloodshed and potential homicide?” he mocks.

“Be grateful I saved you from that imbecile you were supposed to marry,” he adds, releasing her chin as she immediately rubs the numb spot with teary eyes.

“After all, you’ve just become a peace offering, my dear. God has a plan, and we shall obey the lord,” he asserts. She raises her eyes back to him, the tension between them palpable, amplified by the continuing rain outside, playing its role in the orchestra of her sorrow.

“You don’t have a choice, darling,” he declares, his words stinging her soul as they hang in the air.

“Either you stay under my protection, be a good girl, marry me, and obey, or I’ll deal with your clan brutally,” he states, rising from the bed and walking toward the door.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to negotiate the terms with your old man.”

“Get more rest.” He looked at her for the last time and closed the door behind him. A click of the lock follows. Only now, she allowed herself to cry out loud.

’You said that if I’ll help myself, lord will help me too.’ She cried, desperately. Run away from the oppressed life of a future mafia wife, just to get even closer to marriage and marital duties, autonomy out of reach.

The overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear of an uncertain future weighs heavily on her. Would it be easier to go back home, and get beaten up and punished? Or would it be easier to stay and accept she will never get away from this life?

There is something she sees in his eyes, but she cannot figure out what it is. She’s exhausted from the run, from all the thinking and future battles she will have to participate in. Her eyes are slowly closing, and her consciousness is failing her again.

“Good morning, Buin,” a voice called out, causing her to squint her eyes from the sudden stream of light entering the room. Grumbling, she pulled the blanket up higher to shield herself.

“Doctor Kim will pay you a visit today, Buin.” the voice continued, and her eyes snapped open. Reality set in, and she realized this wasn’t just a bad dream — she wasn’t home.

“A doctor?” She said, successfully ignoring how she called her the lady of the house.

“Sajangnim requested that we draw you a bath so you can relax and clean yourself,” the little lady replied with a big smile, clearly infatuated with her “Sajangnim”. Rolling her eyes at the maid’s innocence, she welcomed the suggestion of a bath. This westernised hanok must have a bathing room hidden somewhere in its wooden maze. Accepting the white hanfu offered to her, she eagerly anticipated the chance to have her long hair washed. It had become a tangled mess after days of neglect. Maybe she would finally be able to wear her hair down, something she had never been allowed to do before. Her scalp was always sore from the numerous hairpins and clips used to hold her hair in the complicated styles she despised. And perhaps, she could even cut her hair.

“We’re here, Buin,” the maid interrupted her thoughts, leading her to a wooden door that swung open. The sight of a bathroom in a house, a luxury reserved for urban dwellers, reflected the wealth of the syndicate.

She entered the room, and the maid closed the door from inside. The water was already in the large wooden bathtub, steaming hot, beckoning her to submerge herself. It was spacious enough for her to float on the surface if she wanted to. The maid prepared her soaps and other hygiene products. She will clean herself as she graciously declined her help.

“Sajangnim said that if you were to resist his hospitality and commands he gave us, he shall come and help you himself.” The girl said with no emotion in her voice. She memorised it by heart.

“You can tell Sajangnim to stay put,” she muttered in response.

“Buin—” the girl attempted again but Y/N waved her off. She didn’t want to treat the poor girl in this mean manner, but she desired an alone time.

“Please…just wait outside.” Y/N pleaded. Reluctantly, the girl obliged, but she was certain she would report back to her master in a heartbeat. Besides, Y/N had nowhere to escape within the confines of this room.

She shed the lightweight hanfu and slowly lowered herself into the steaming water, feeling her muscles gradually relax. At least for a moment, her mind started to ease the running thoughts, calming the storm down.

Until she heard his voice. Her body immediately tensed up. She strained to listen to the conversation — or rather, the series of commands directed at the poor gal.

“Doctor Kim has arrived, make sure she is ready in the master bedroom in fifteen minutes. Tell the staff to prepare lunch for us in the garden after.” His voice was gone after this, and a soft knock followed. 

“Buin—” the maid’s voice called softly, and by that time, Y/N was already hurriedly putting the hanfu back on.

“I’m coming,” she sighed.

She stopped the servant girl once she wanted to put her hair up in a bun. Now back in the room, sitting in a closet the devil managed to obtain for her as if he knew she will come. It was full of beautiful qipao’s but also some Korean hanboks and even some traditional Chinese beizis if she wanted to get more comfortable presumably. Among them, she noticed some lingerie, which internally made her nauseous with anxiety. Her hair was longer than she remembered, as she rarely wore it down.

“I suggest you keep the hanfu while Doctor Kim is here and then we shall clothe you in a dress.” To say she was scared and nervous about what this Doctor Kim will want to see or do was understandable.

“Here she is!” A loud and cheery voice echoed in the bedroom. “You caused quite a commotion, sweetie. I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” said the handsome man who entered the room with a leather suitcase and white coat.

“Doctor Kim, I presume,” She assumed. He was undeniably attractive, much like his Kkangpae. But she wouldn’t admit that for some time.

“For you, sweetie, it’s Seokjin. We’re going to be family, after all,” he smiled, attempting to put her at ease. He couldn’t help but notice her guarded demeanour. She scoffed at his proclamation, as expected.

“So,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s talk about you and your health, darling,” he said while searching for an empty file with her name.

“I want you to know that I won’t tell him a damn thing unless it’s necessary, you can trust me,” he stated.

“Except whether or not I’m a virgin, right?” she retorted in a cocky voice, mocking the messed-up mafia system.

“If you want to start with that, you can lie down, and I’ll check,” he sassed back with a smirk. Something told her they would only be friends for a very brief moment as long as she remained in this place.

“So, are you?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“What if I’m not?” she tilted her head to the side. He chuckled.

“I see your point, but that wouldn’t free you from the engagement. He would simply have the man who touched you slaughtered to show his power,” he explained. She straightened herself, taking a deep breath.

“And even though I have to check anyway, it’s not just about your chastity,” he said. She did know, but that didn’t mean she would be comfortable spreading her legs for a stranger.

“Let’s leave that until the very end, shall we?” he smiled at her.

“Have you consumed any contaminated water while you were on the run?” he surprised her with the question.

“No, I don’t think so...” she stammered.

“Besides hurting Hoseok-ssi, did you fight with anyone else and get injured?” So that was the man’s name.

“Is he okay?” she asked, deflecting his question.

“He’s fine, but you should apologise once you meet him. He meant no harm,” he replied. Well, she hadn’t meant any harm either; she just wanted to escape the scene quickly. She nodded in agreement.

“When was the last time you were sick, honey.”

“Sometime last year.” He hummed in response.

“Do you have a family history of any medical conditions or diseases?” he continued with the examination.

“None that I’m aware of,” she shrugged.

“Any reproductive problems in your family?” he asked more seriously.

And here it comes—reducing her to merely a vessel, even before marriage. Just in time, the devil appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. “Not on my side,” he interjected.

She didn’t want to give him a glance, but her body failed her. His black hair was tucked behind his ears, a scar shining in its glory on his face. He smiled. And for a moment, she got lost in his eyes again. He’s having an impact on her, and he knows.

“Y/N?” Seokjin called her name to get her attention back to him.

“No, not in my lineage,” her gaze fell again as she listened to what he was asking her.

“Do you smoke?” He asked with curiosity in his voice.

“Uhm, no.” She answered honestly. Y/N had been around cigarettes a lot, but she had never smoked one herself.

“Very good, do not start. It’s not worth it,” he gave his younger brother from another mother a side-eye, and the younger one just rolled his eyes in response. It made her chuckle a little, hoping they wouldn’t hear it. He did but didn’t say a word. Yoongi wanted her to be comfortable around him.

“Alcohol?” he asked while jotting down her previous answers.

“Occasionally?” she questioned herself, as she couldn’t remember the last time, she had a drink.

“Hmm,” he hummed again and wrote it down.

“Do you have any problems with your monthly bleeding?” Seokjin looked into her eyes and glanced at his brother.

“No…” she said awkwardly, gulping down.

“When was the last time you ate?” He looked into her eyes, and she realised she couldn’t recall, nor did she feel hungry until now. Was it the adrenaline?

“I think it was the morning I left Shenyang, five days ago,” she replied.

“You went from Shenyang to Incheon in 5 days?!” He raised his voice which caused him a mean look from his leader.

“How are you not exhausted to death?!” He continued.

“I had some intense drugged sleep. Thank you for your concern, though,” she answered honestly.

“She needs to eat, but she has to do so carefully to avoid upsetting her stomach. Don’t let her overstuff herself,” he instructed his companion. She was starting to feel ravenous; she hadn’t eavesdropped on their conversation, but rather, she was lost in her thoughts, preparing for what would come next.

“Beautiful, I need you to lie down for Seokjin now,” he snapped her out of it.

“What?” with him inside the room?

“It’s not necessary. I can tell him what he needs to know without that,” she protested.

“It’s a rule we follow, dove. We don’t want you to—” she cut him off.

“You just want to know if someone have fucked me before or not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t care,” she spat out. He seemed taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. This is the fire he wanted to desperately extinguish, at least towards him. Jin looked very much shocked but also amused when he glanced at his friend that was startled by this petite Chinese woman.

“I need to check for other reasons as well,” Seokjin said, clasping his hands together.

“Why can’t you just retrieve my medical file?”

“You have a medical file?” He asked, surprised. It was very rare for someone to have a medical file, especially at times after the war, apart from when a young one went to study. An entrance examination was always needed.

“Yes. Send a letter to my college.” She said, not realising she slipped a piece of valuable information out.

“College?” Yoongi asked, clearly shocked. Seokjin wasn’t looking much less surprised than him. She gave them questioning looks, knowing full well why they were so astonished.

“W-What did u study?” Jin stammered the question out. She wasn’t meant to inherit her father’s empire, but she was destined for an arranged marriage to another powerful family. Higher education wasn’t supposed to be part of her life. However, this would explain why she hadn’t been married off at eighteen. They had sent her away to study.

“Nursing.” She shrugged as if her words carried no weight.

“My, my,” said Jin, stroking his chin.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. As of now, a big no,” she looked at her abductor, confused.

“As of now is good with me!” he clapped his hands together.

“Now, please leave, brother. I don’t think she’ll ever comply if you’re here. I’ll bring her to the garden afterwards,” Yoongi wanted to object, but when he saw the pleading distress in her eyes, he nodded and left his bedroom.

The young leader was proud that she hadn’t tried to run away or throw a tantrum yet. He didn’t want to resort to violence or coercion.

Stone pathways meandered through the garden, inviting one to explore its every corner. She was absorbing her surroundings with a teacup in her small hands. The air was fragrant with the scent of autumn. The wind was a bit chilling as the end of October was nearing. Snow will fall soon. A small pavilion she found herself sitting in beside a koi fishpond that sparkled in the sunlight, felt too peaceful.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said he, his gaze fixed upon her petite figure draped in a flowery pink qipao, her hair elegantly tucked behind her ears. She radiated a natural beauty, untouched by face powders or lipsticks. He loved this vision, an embodiment of purity and innocence. Little did he know, beneath her facade of grace, lay a sharp tongue that defied even the will of God.

She sipped her tea; Y/N ate a little bit of rice and seaweed soup to drive off her hunger. As she admired the garden’s serenity, she found herself drawn not only to its peacefulness but also to the possibility of escape it presented. Perhaps she could run back to Incheon and board a ship that would carry her far away from this place.

“You should know that ‘pretty’ is just a word, and your compliments and pet names won’t win me over. Use my name,” she scoffed, challenging his attempts to woo her.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll stop,” he was determined to break through her defences.

Y/N shot him a piercing stare, a skill she had acquired swiftly. She pondered the enigma of the man before her, wondering how in God’s name she could resist his charm.

“I appreciate that you haven’t attempted to escape yet,” he murmured, sipping his tea. Y/N was no fool; she knew that throwing a fit every second she was held captive would only lead to further confinement. For now, she decided to falsely embrace the last moments of autumn in this beautiful garden, she already scanned in her mind.

“I won’t be very keen on you if you’ll try to,” he warned, his tone shifting unexpectedly. Did he seek to intimidate her, or was he afraid she would succeed in slipping away?

“You seem eager to ask me questions,” said she with cockiness in her voice. Acting tough would make it harder for him to break her will. Not like she counted on a prolonged stay.

“I do,” he hummed in agreement. “But are you willing to answer them, my sweet?” Her eyes rolled at the nickname, accompanied by a scoff. He sighed.

“I’ll answer anything you want, and you’ll answer mine. Deal?” he proposed, a smile playing on his lips.

“That’s quite the cliché, you know,” she declared, placing her cup down just as he eagerly reached to refill it.

“But if it gets you to talk to me, darling, I’ll graciously accept the cliché,” he replied smoothly.

“I know what you want to ask,” she interjected. He was curious about how she managed to study for years without being married off.

“My aunt was very dear to my father. She persuaded him,” she confessed, her words carrying a burden that still weighed on her mind.

“Naturally, my father had intended to marry me off instead of allowing me to pursue my studies. It was still on the table. However, the last war, as you surely recall, brought forth injured, disabled, and dead.”

“I had just turned eighteen. So, my aunt negotiated that I would study nursing in Shenyang instead and be useful to the clan this way. My father saw the merit in her argument and delayed my marriage to whatever his name is—” She explained, her nonchalant tone contrasting with the mention of the man she was meant to marry and the affection she held for her late aunt.

“But my aunt passed away recently and there was no reason for my father to let me stay in Shenyang after I ended my studies. I became more useful to him if I married that boy, as your clan sent a warning. He needed the allyship.” She sighed.

“So I ran the moment we buried my aunt and I was sent back to Shenyang to get my diploma and return.” He listened attentively, aware that her trust was not easily won, and that loyalty would be crucial in their future together. She was still cautious around him, and he wanted her to open up to him even more. It would be a lot easier for her to trust him. But he knew better than that. Trust is earned, and it goes both ways.

“You never met him?” he inquired, referring to her failed engagement.

“No. I don’t think I even remember his name. Father always called him Yamamoto, never by his first name,” she replied. He knew his name well, having encountered him during negotiations for a deal in the past. Officially, Korea remained under Japanese rule, but within the underworld, clans were locked in fierce conflict. Yoongi, longing for peace, knew that Wang’s treaty pact with the Yamamoto clan was a significant obstacle. However, with Y/N’s presence here, the plans could be easily altered. According to the plan.

The cold young leader is not only aiming for her father’s empire and making peace for his clan, he longed for a woman like her. It was about time the leader of the clan took a wife to secure the lineage. Although there was a male heir in her family, who could potentially pose an obstacle, he was still too young to step into the role. Y/N, as the eldest heir, a female, would become an integral part of Yoongi’s plans to secure the future of their clans.

“You crave the throne, don’t you?” she asked, cocking her head and chin defiantly, her narrowed eyes fixed on him.

“I want you too.” She chuckled at his response.

“I’m merely a convenient excuse, am I not?” Y/N smiled too sweetly.

“You’ll kill m—” he rose from his chair, not even letting her finish. Grabbing her by her shoulders in a steel grip with a penetrating gaze.

The fragile cup slipped from her trembling hands and shattered on the floor. A nearby maid prepared to clean up the shattered shards. “Leave us!” he barked at the startled girl; his voice filled with anger. Y/N’s eyes widened. He was even more aggressive and intimidating than before.

“I could—” his voice seething with fury, “— I could gather man and slaughter your entire clan, keeping you as a trophy, a symbol of my power.” The threat hung in the air, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Fear was coursing through her, yet she resisted letting it control her.

“Matter of fact—” he continued, his grip tightening on her shoulders, eliciting a whimper of pain from her, “—you will be a symbol of the magnitude my power has, no matter if your father and family remain alive. So, it’s on you. The fate of your kin rests in your hands. Their survival hinges on your decisions and how well you’ll cooperate.” He tightened his grip again, eliciting another whimper of pain from her.

“But I will never dispose of you,” he growled through gritted teeth, his tone a mixture of possessiveness and frustration. Gathering her courage, she managed to speak again, her voice trembling but filled with resolve.

“You cannot manipulate me like this. Do you think I’ll fall for this fucked up scheme? I have spent my entire life under the orders of others, forbidden from making choices for myself! And you have the audacity to use my innocence thinking I will willingly crawl into your bed and love you like a devoted lover.” Venom in her voice and the desperate tone made him fall for her even more.

“I’ve only recently met you, so spare me your attempts to deceive me that you’re being my saviour.” Y/N has enough fire to still conquer and fight him back. “I refuse to be a passive participant in this game.” She shall not take it lying down.

“I’m giving you a choice—” he asserted, his voice laced with a dangerous undertone “—either you’ll walk down the aisle to me or there will be bloodshed. I won’t send you back to your father nor will I relinquish you easily.” His eyes locked onto hers, and she could see the darkness consuming his pupils when anger consumed him.

“Call it love, obsession, or whatever you please, but no matter what imbecile attempts you make to fight or flee, we will inevitably end up together nonetheless,” he declared with conviction. Was this the fate God had laid out for her? Her faith wavered, and if he didn’t assist soon, she shall forbid him altogether.

“You just want to fuck m—” he cut her off abruptly, his voice low and seductive.

“I can either fuck you hard or I can make love to you,” said he, whilst setting her left arm free and sliding his to her thigh, caressing it sweetly.

Breathing started to become harder for Y/N. Unfamiliar sensations welled up in her lower belly whilst his touch was sending shivers through her body. Was this attraction? Excitement? Mother told her this is how love is supposed to feel. Butterflies in her stomach. But she certainly wasn’t in love with her captor.

He sensed her confusion and distress, leaving her to fall back to the chair. Finally letting her breathe freely. Yoongi sat back in his chair, collecting himself and the three-piece suit he wears today.

“Loss of words, innit?” He chuckled.

He was filled with pride, an overwhelming sense of it, knowing the impact he had on her. She dusted her thighs and straightened her dress.

“Remember, it’s your call. Either you’ll go willingly or with coercion,” her gaze piercing through him for change.

“I’m still waiting to hear back from your father, but before we proceed, I need to go over some rules I expect you to follow before and after we’re wed,” he said, picking up his cup of tea again.

“I know the rules. Just because I went to study doesn’t mean I wasn’t prepared to be the wife of any higher-profile mafia member,” she replied, and he chuckled.

“What’s so funny, care to share?” She asked her sass back.

“Not those kinds of rules. I know you’re prepared for that. But entertain me, baby. What do you think I’ll ask of you?” he said, grinning mischievously, his chin resting between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’ll hand me the household finances after, not like I already agreed, I see no ring yet —”

“—not interfere in business affairs, maintain a low profile to avoid unnecessary attention, and be nothing more than a pretty face, spread your legs and pop out heirs.” He listened to her, amused. She is vaccinated with these dynamics as her mother underwent the same and taught her to do so. However, to Yoongi’s unluckiness, she inherited her whim and flame too.

“You don’t need to manage the household; we have people for that. But if you wish to change anything in the budget, you of course can, sweetling,” he responded, surprising her with his contradictory words.

“I don’t want you to be just a pretty face because you have to. Your fire will be beneficial for me once in a while. If I ever tell you to sit still and look pretty, it would be a matter of life and death, a means to protect you, —”

“—See? I can be very good.” He said, sipping his cold tea, leaving it in his mouth to warm a little while he is thinking. He found great joy in evoking emotions from her.

“You can involve yourself in the business as much as you desire, but I doubt you’ll want to engage in those activities. For your safety, I would sleep better if you were always by my side once we’re engaged and married shortly after.” He stressed out the last word.

“Once we’ll be engaged and wed, your loyalty to your father will transfer to me, and me only” he emphasised his voice firm.

“I won’t force you to be intimate with me after the wedding night, although I’m sure you’ll come to desire it,” he said with a sickly grin, causing her stomach to churn. She needed a moment to process everything he told her by far.

“I saw how you reacted to me earlier. You will enjoy our time in the bedroom, surely.” He spoke as if it wasn’t taboo.

“I-” she stammered and hesitated. He stunned her. Broke down to her core, and he wanted to dig even further.

“I’m aware.” He replied to her unspoken utterance.

She leaned into her chair further, feeling so small suddenly, so inexperienced. Y/N remembers a boy with black hair and green eyes who she had a crush on. He kissed her one night under a cherry blossom tree in their garden. Her father got to know, and she never saw him since.

“All of this comes with one rule: obedience. You will obey as a good girl, and everyone will be happy,” he declared firmly.

“But disobedience won’t be tolerated,” he added, his tone unwavering.

“I want our marriage to be right, as it should be. I won’t force you to be intimate with me. I mean it,” he tried to assure her.

“—Apart from the wedding night, which speaking of, I still didn’t say, ’Yes, I will’.” He laughed and got up from his chair. Her choices and chances were limited. Even if she would manage to escape, he would go on a killing spree till he would get her back. Min Yoongi was very much interested and devoted to marrying this young female.

He knelt on one knee in front of her. A scenery one could perceive as a loving couple is ready to pursue a life journey together. She hadn’t expected him to propose before her father’s agreement, let alone in such a proper manner. Y/N knew better, she just wanted to tease him back.

This wasn’t how mafia members typically behaved, especially the Kkangpae, who never bowed or knelt to anyone. A sign of respect and reverence. Is she to be fooled again? Was he trying to earn her trust with this pretentious act or is he truly showing her respect? Countless questions stormed her mind, causing her inner turmoil. A thunder and lightning bolt within.

He pulled out a velvet little box from his inside pocket and slowly opened it before her shocked figure. The ring glistened in the light. She hates to admit it, but it was marvellous. The delicate band, crafted from shimmering gold, was embellished with intricate filigree that snaked its way around the band in a dance of beauty. Sapphire, shining atop the band surrounded by smaller diamonds, a starry night sky, each one a glimmering testament to the masterful skill of the jeweller. The ring must be older than she or him.

“Miss Wang—” said he, staring into her soul and making her look away from the ring. “—You would honour me if you shall decide to spend, thou life by my side. I promise to protect you and respect you if you have me.”

Confusion would be the correct term, as just moments ago, he held her in a punishing grip, issuing threats. She mustered the courage to ask him once more. “Why?”

He smiled at her so widely. This smile was different. “Please don’t give me any sweet bullshit or I swear—” he interrupted her.

“All you think is my reason — is my reason. I’m not going to lie to you. Just know…this is God’s will, and God presented you to me as a life companion. You can put your fear aside and stand up to me. You’re a challenge I’m determined to embrace, and God knows I’ll do my best to make you mine,” he explained, his tone serious and earnest.

Would God allow him to do anything to conquer her and this world? His words resonated deep within her soul, stirring something within her. Will Father punish her once he will arrive here if he is even coming here? He has to. She knows. If she will get engaged, he will have to come and give him his blessing.

Mother. She wanted to desperately hide in her mother’s arms. Is she ready to confine herself to someone else than her mother, sister, or aunt? Her poor aunt must be restless in her grave. She wanted only the best for her. A different life than the one of someone’s wife; at least that’s what she believed.

“So, what will it be? Shall I send my man to gear up or—” She didn’t let him finish. Y/N didn’t want anyone else to die or get hurt because she wanted her freedom so selfishly. She questioned her faith and wondered if this was truly the path that had been laid out for her.

Is this her path?

“I will.”

It must be.

He smiled brightly. He is one step closer to orchestrating in her heart. It’s her verdict whether it will be an easier or difficult and rocky path. He took the ring out of its box, reaching for her left hand. Sliding the ring on her finger.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on her skin. He didn’t break eye contact the whole time, which made her uneasy. Y/N didn’t expect the leader to close the distance between them and lean to her, still holding her hand. Her breath picked its pace, and her lips parted a little; she gasped when he was getting too close. Y/N felt so stiff and frozen. Almost brushing his lips with hers—

“Sajangnim—?” A voice echoed. Unwillingly and frustrated, he turned his head to the staff member of the household. Y/N turned her head in the opposite direction, her chest heaving rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.

“What?!” he barked; his anger evident.

“Mr Wang is on the telephone.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“How long will she be out?” Asked the leader, pacing front and back in his office. It had only been a few minutes since the son of his late father’s captain of the front force had brought her back to their territory. She appeared serene as he carried her into his room and gently laid her on the bed. Although he had a maid ready to change her clothes, he couldn’t resist the urge to do it himself.

“Hopefully she’ll sleep most of the evening and night,” Chan-yeol replied.

“I see,” answered the leader, trying to mask his concern. He realised how much he yearned for her presence.

“Everything will work out right, Kkangpae?” Chan-yeol asked, seeking reassurance.

“Of course. How is your wife, Chan-yeol?” Yoongi replied confidently. He vividly recalls her disparagement of this plan, as if her opinion mattered to him. She had shown a protective instinct towards her, much like her mother had. It stirred conflicting emotions within him.

“She won’t be a problem, I promise.” His voice was laced with a hint of fear. It was only natural to be afraid of someone like Yoongi.

The plan was for her to reach Jeju Island, and stumbling upon the warehouse was a mere coincidence—a twist of fate that strengthened Yoongi’s belief in their union. The way she looked into his eyes made him breathless.

His heart burned for her even more than ever before.

to be continued

author’s note: yall I have to say I didn't expect that much of love for my baby. Thank you all beautiful creatures! Feels very surreal. Thank you for all the love, reblogs and comments. I love you, I see you. I hope you enjoyed the first and second chapter and will look forward to the next one ♥ Stay tuned for the preview of chapter III soonish ♥

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥

Shout out to Bex the queen @chaoticpuff17 for beta reading this chapter and shout out to all her bombastically good fics!! ♥ ily♥

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @ruhmoojeonjunkook-blog @hi12345567 @nochue @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest

©pennyellee. please do not repost

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 13

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. kissing, hair pulling, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the finale!!! it's been real you guys :') hope you enjoy <3

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Yuji leans over you, pink hair tickling the top of your forehead as he brings his lips to brush against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he awaits your answer.

You swallow, trying to figure out what to say, but before your mouth can move, you feel heat building between your legs. He tilts his head to the side, grin transforming into a smirk. “What, can’t get your thoughts out, pretty? C’mon, you know how much I love when you use your words,” he teases.

He’s so close to you now, his padded fingertips tracing your skin, the feeling making you nervous for some reason as a mix of sweet butterflies and sinful desire grows inside of you. “Y-yes,” you stutter out.

“Yes what?” he whispers against your mouth.

“Fuck me,” you breathe.

You feel his lips pull wider into a full smile before they press into yours. He moves his teeth around your bottom lip and gently bites as you sigh into his mouth. His tongue moves past your lips and glides over yours. The hand that was drawing circles along your hip moves down to the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your hands move down to tug them off, tossing them across the room.

Yuji lets out a quiet laugh against your lips at the movement, loving how well you anticipate his thoughts without having to even say anything. Moving his fingers lower, he traces over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot in your panties that slowly formed beginning the first moment he placed his hands on your skin.

“Wow, s’wet for me already, sweets?” he teases between kisses.

“You wanna play that game?” you taunt. Without separating your lips from his, you reach a hand down his torso, over the waistband of his sweats, and down until you feel the bulge straining against his pants. His cock twitches as your fingers caress over it through the soft cloth, causing Yuji to whine into your mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” you chuckle against him.

Suddenly he shifts so he’s fully on top of you. He pulls away from your lips and you open your eyes, only to be met with his half-lidded brown ones above yours. Now between your legs, he slowly thrusts his hips up so his cock drags against your pussy. The sensation makes your eyes flutter closed and back arch, even through two layers of fabric. A soft, “F-fuck,” leaves your lips as you try to grind your hips back against him, desperate for more.

He moves so his mouth settles into that spot between your jawline and ear, the one he knows you love, as he whispers, “Not so cocky now, are we?” He tries to hide how his voice shakes, the sensation of you moving against him threatening to send him over the edge before he has even begun.

Briefly pulling your skin between his teeth, he sucks just enough to leave a pretty bruise on your neck. Letting everyone know you’re his. The thought alone makes his cock twitch and he moans, bucking his hips up against you.

The realization sets in that if he keeps moving like this, he’ll finish before he’s able to do anything for you. Pulling away from your neck he shifts his eyes to your face. Your eyes blink open to look at him, your cheeks flushed as you bring one hand up to rest in his hair. The feeling makes him melt into your touch, but he knows he can’t stay here forever. His eyes trace down your body, landing on the soaked panties still covering your sex. He bites his lower lip as his gaze moves back up to meet yours and you nod, knowing what he is asking.

His eyes light up at the shared understanding and he repositions himself with his head between your thighs. He slides your panties down your legs before returning his sights to the beauty before him. Your bare cunt, glistening with how wet you are, your perfect folds and-

“Yuji,” you whisper, pulling him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flit up to yours and he grins before diving into your pussy. He laps up your essence, moaning softly into your wet skin. “S’sweet, s’good,” he murmurs to himself, tongue tracing up and down you.

He brings one hand off the bed, slowly applying pressure to your entrance before sliding it in. You let yourself moan, knowing he likes it, as your back arches slightly off the bed. Another finger goes into you as he begins curling them toward your sweet spot. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he latches his lips around you and gently sucks at the sensitive bud.

Tension builds in your stomach as you feel yourself getting close, the rhythmic pulsing of his fingers inside you combined with the roughness of his tongue becoming too much for you to bear. Your grip on his hair tightens, eyes closing.

“Yuji, I’m gonna-” The words cut off as he suddenly brings you to your first orgasm. Your thighs try to close around him but his hands hold your shaking legs apart. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you ride the blissful high.

As you return to your senses, there is only one thought in your mind: you need more.

Yuji sits back at the end of the bed, grinning at you with pride. As you open your eyes, you feel the deep desire, the need, within you growing. You lean up on your forearms to steady yourself before slowly crawling forward towards him, eyes locked on his lips.

“That was pretty damn good, don’t ya think?” he says, almost laughing before his eyes suddenly meet yours. Your wide pupils, flushed cheeks, and slow breathing make him gulp. He has no idea what he’s in for.

“Off,” you state, glancing down at his sweatpants, now adorned with a slight damp spot from his precum. He takes in a breath at your sudden forcefulness before immediately ripping them off and throwing them across the room, allowing his cock to stand fully erect.

You place a hand on his chest and gently push him down against the bed before shifting your weight back so your face is aligned between his legs. The sight of his dick makes your mouth water - the slight flush of his tip, the drops of precum glistening, the veins that cover his length - it’s all so perfect. Looking up at him, you slowly open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing the saliva that had been building in your mouth to slowly drip down. It hits Yuji’s tip as he hisses from the sensation, closing his eyes momentarily.

Lowering your head down slightly, he once again reaches his hands up to gather your hair and hold it above your head. You smirk - you even remembered a hair tie today, but you say nothing. Tongue still out, lips parted, your mouth finally reaches his cock. You swirl around his tip for a moment before closing your eyes and taking his entire length down your throat at once. The sudden feeling of your warmth around him makes him moan, forcing his hips up off the bed involuntarily. Your eyes water at the additional pressure, but you know you can take it.

Pulling back slightly, you take another breath in before plunging your head back down. Yuji seems to control himself better this time, but you can still feel his cock beginning to twitch against your tongue as you move up and down him.

“H-hey,” he whispers softly. You hear him, but you can’t stop, addicted to the feeling of him knocking against the back of your throat. Suddenly, you feel a tension at the back of your head as Yuji pulls your hair, yanking you off his dick with a pop from the suction you had created. You whine at the mixture of no longer having him inside your mouth and at the rough sensation of him pulling you. He holds you so you can look him in the eyes and he takes in the sight of you: pupils unfocused, mouth hanging open in a loose smile, with a mix of drool and precum slipping out the corners of your lips. The sight makes him somehow impossibly harder. “I-I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, sweets,” he murmurs.

You pout in response, knowing you would struggle to form words at this point. He chuckles at your reaction. “I know, I know, but remember, there’s something we’ve gotta do first,” he says, leaning back over you, a smirk forming on his lips. “I still want to fuck you.”

His hands release your hair and instead move to take your top off, lifting it over your shoulders with ease. He then places his palms against your ribcage and gently pushes you onto your back as he moves himself on top of you. One hand steadies himself on the bed while the other reaches down to his base, aligning himself with your entrance.

“You lemme know f’I’m goin’ to fast or too slow, okay?” his words starting to slur together from desire. All you can do is nod eagerly as you look up at him. You sense his need, too, through his half-lidded eyes that refuse to look away from your lips.

He presses into you slowly, stretching your walls around him as his tip enters you. He groans from the sensation. “Fuck, s’wet, s’warm,” he breathes.

Pausing for a moment to ensure that you’re okay, he glances down at you as your cunt clenches around him, demanding more.

“Please Yuji,” you whisper, “please.” The two words were the only ones echoing in your mind, the only thing you can think of is your need for him.

Continuing again, he slowly moves further into you. The feeling of him stretching you, expanding to fit him perfectly, nearly brings him to the edge. But for you, it’s not enough. You arch your back as you move your hips up, trying to fill yourself with him. Yuji falls forward at the sudden warmth along his length, catching himself with his forehead against your shoulder. With one final movement of his hips, he bottoms out. The feeling of him fully inside you, fully yours, is almost too much for the poor boy as he rests against you, shaking, trying not to finish from his first thrust.

“Yuji?” you whimper.

“Mhm?” he hums against you, still not able to lift his head from your shoulder as he attempts to steady his breathing.

“Faster, please?”

He grits his teeth at your pleas. He can do this; he has to do this, for you.

Moving his hips back he drags himself out of you, eliciting a moan as you tilt your head back into the pillows beneath you.

Suddenly, his hips lurch against you, his pelvis hitting the skin between your legs as he thrusts his full length into you. A soft scream leaves your throat as you move your legs off the bed to wrap around the back of his torso, his back warm against your calves.

Your eyes blink open for only a moment before you feel his lips crash into yours, his mouth open immediately as his tongue swipes against you. You part your lips in response as your tongues glide against each other. He pulls out and pushes in again, this time causing him to moan into you.

Finding a steady pace, he continues the circular motion of his hips as he presses his cock in and out, your legs holding him in place against you. The heat of your bodies, bare chest against bare chest, builds between you as you breathe into each others’ mouths through the kiss.

You feel so full, so full of Yuji, so full of love, so full of everything. Each thrust ignites flames inside you, burning hot in the pit of your stomach. The pressure becomes too much to handle.

You pull away from his lips for a moment. “Yuji,” you moan, “I’m close.”

“I know, sweets, me too,” he mutters against your lips.

His movements become sloppy, imprecise, driven purely by physical need. His cock pushes up deeper and deeper inside you and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to sweet release.

It hits you. You throw your head back against the pillows as your vision goes black. Your pussy fluttering around Yuji’s cock sends him over the edge with you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. It’s impossible to distinguish the origin of the moans filling your room as you both soar to ecstasy. Shaking, screaming, you both grip tightly to each other as wave after wave of pleasure hits you.

Finally, your breathing slows and you feel the weight of Yuji’s body pressing against yours, his head buried into the crook of your neck. His hips have stilled but his breathing is still ragged against your skin. Reaching your hand up you gently twirl his hair around your finger, the action making him shiver in your embrace. Both of you lay there for a while, panting, bodies intertwined as the silence of the room wraps around you.

Eventually Yuji lifts his head up, resting his forehead against yours, both slightly damp with sweat, as his eyes meet yours. His sweet, soft brown eyes, so full of love as he gazes down at you: his treasure, his one and only. He tilts his head down, softly placing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” you respond, bringing your other hand up against his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his flushed skin.

This is what it was all for. This, this moment, is perfect.

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