#but dislike if its way too arrogant or cocky like..... not for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tiredassmage · 1 year

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8, 12, 15, Tyr :^))c

Pain and suffering. xD Pain and suffering for the agents for 1,000 years kaldfndslkfs. I'm SO sorry that is IMMEDIATELY what my brain spat out reading these numbers, lmaooo

(I'm so sorry, Tyr, I love you, I swear.)

8. Bad memories/experiences.

[Hands over a plot summary of Imperial Agent] Cipher Nine's no good, very bad, terrible time at Imperial Intelligence. End transmission, lmao.

Okay, so yes, but also, I'll answer more specifically, lol. Spoilers for IA in (hopefully) broad strokes because if you know, you know, and if you don't, seriously, IA is my favorite story in the game, yes, I'm biased, yes I will still feed you IA superiority propaganda. *confetti shooter*

Anyway. The short version is I think his worst experiences relating to class story shenanigans are probably on Taris and Quesh. Taris because stars, he was going to help anyway, you don't need to jerk him around like an akk hound and Quesh because... not to spoiler your next question, but, stars, has Tyr ever hated anyone more than Hunter??? Probably not. There's also Dromund Kaas - particularly... eee, iirc, before Voss? The spiked message that affects the Watchers. And Shara. And that "stops his world," as he puts it to Vector. I mean, several incidents on Dromund Kaas, tbh. He's still mad they cut Imperial Intelligence at the knees at the practical height of wartime tension. He doesn't miss Lord Razer, ngl. Couldn't have happened to a nicer Sith, you know!!!!!!

(I threw in a meme, hold on, your cut's gonna go here because of the meme, lol)

And don't get him started on... I wanna say Ilum, but like, any time after the class story where you talk with someone and it's like "woe! Intelligence disbanded!" Tyr standing there like

And you know what they say, kids. If you have issues, take it up with your local governor Dark Councilor! And maybe they won't make stupid fucking decisions like that!

OH, okay, here I can give you. A non-class story answer, too, I just had to warm up my brain. Okay. So, if you've been around a bit, you might have heard me mention Tyr's dislike for Sith started at home with his sister, Mevais, and their mother - I've vaguely described that Mevais is your more loose-canon type. She's young, powerful, has an influential family, and she knows all of this. Tyr is not only an outsider living on the good graces of her father (he was 'adopted'), but he's also has no force sensitivity to speak of. Neither does her father, sure, but bold of you to assume she doesn't bitch with her mother while he's not there. Which is often when he's an officer.

She's not physically cruel. To him. But she's a menace that doesn't stop reminding him of their different places. So, in a way, he could probably thank her for teaching him resistance and how to wear a mask, take insults on the chin, and keep his head down and keep working long before he was ever in basic training and tapped by Intelligence recruiters. Accepting Intelligence's offer was enough reason to never speak to either of them again, but it was also certainly an excuse he was more than happy to take.

And then, of course, future Sith did very little to rebuke his distaste for running over average Imperial citizens like insects and pawns rather than fellow patriots and, y'know, actual people. Sorry Jedi, he's not particularly more trusting of you, either. He's never in complete denial about the Force - he grew up on Dromund Kaas, after all, but he is rather wary of any of its users - from either side and even unaffiliated parties like the Voss. Power eats even good people when its unchecked, after all.

12. Grudges and vendettas.

Hunter. >:))))) Hunter, Hunter, Hunter, ohhh, Hunter. Tyr is never able to see this as an even remotely equal relationship. They're not charming. They're cocky. Arrogant. And Tyr absolutely believes they delight in dragging him around by the nose. That bastard's smirk about it all was one of the most haunting images of all of those hallucinations. More than anyone else, Tyr holds Hunter accountable for what he went through. In fact, it's mainly Hunter. Primarily Hunter. Is it reasonable? Fair? Eh, maybe not. But it is someone he can hold personally accountable.

Unlike the Minister whom he otherwise respected. Unlike the Dark Council, which as a whole body is far more than any one operative could ever hope to stand against, particularly in open confrontation. Jadus was enough of a wild ride - if only he'd known then that he'd go on to put a blaster to the Sith Emperor himself akdfnlsdfnldf. But, yeah, I don't think Tyr holds a vendetta for anyone else like he does Hunter. What he sees in the Voss's trials convinces him the only safe way, the only certain way to end all of this is to put a bolt between their eyes the second he has the opportunity. He's not willing to give them half a chance to get away. It's really only made worse by Hunter drawing comparisons - Tyr's already mad, he doesn't listen, he's not interested in listening, and he's sure as hell not interested in taking over the galaxy. He just wants his damn life back. And personal justice.

Anyway, to keep from continuing to harp on poor Hunter, it's worth mentioning, perhaps again, that him and Lana's relationship was strained, at best, prior to Zakuul. Leading up to Shadow of Revan, its strictly a professional relationship in which he is an operative reporting to her and gathering intelligence for operations. What little trust and respect for her unusually pragmatic nature he does build in that time for her is sniped by Theron's ordeal with the Revanites because, yes, he caught feelings (oops), and primarily because he sees it as an act 'typical' of Sith interests - burning a trusted ally just because it seems like the fastest, easiest path to her goals. Unfortunately, it takes them so long to mend the relationship because Tyr didn't particularly feel too cozy with her to begin with - not enough to call her a friend, not more than was necessary for them to perform their respective jobs together. And then, of course, he's reporting to her again in Sith Intelligence and the relationship is still strictly professional by necessity. Even right after the rescue from Zakuul is a little touchy as he tries to figure out if he does trust her and how far he does, but crisis has a way of bringing people together. By the time they're really doing work on Odessen, Tyr sees her commitment and is willing to give them both a bit of a fresh start.

Also uhh... rip Vinn Atrius. Is another person Tyr took out with extreme prejudice. There's maybe a small part of him that regrets that admittedly very in-the-moment retaliation, but it is, yet again, not something he can go back and change, so dwelling on it is not usually Tyr's course of action. In a clearer headspace, he could've absolutely found Atrius's feelings understandable, maybe even relatable, but, in the moment, he had no qualms 'proving' to be the monster Atrius wanted. He hurt Theron. Any other considerations Tyr might've had went out the window in that single action. Not after how far they'd gone, not after he'd finally just gotten him back, found out this was all just an elaborate operation to protect what they'd worked for.

15. What it takes to make them cry.

Ahahahha, whatever it is, I'll probably cry about it because he doesn't like to, usually! He is definitely not about to let this be a public thing. Too many people had access to his mind over the years without his explicit consent and, without a purpose, it's... not in his usual missions, no, lol.

Off-handed, I think... the few times I've possibly seen this man cry have been in moments of... relief doesn't seem quite right, but in essence, yeah. Tyr still tries to take a lot of life on by himself, I think, even with the Alliance as a sort of proven support network. With the Alliance more than any other point in his life, Tyr has people he trusts and relies on with little to no doubts about their motivations or loyalties. Theron, of course, is a relief to have back in his life as the one person he had the easiest time relating to and is probably the person that knows the most about Tyr Deckard as he's mustered up the courage enough to share. So, it's probably been mostly to Theron.

And it's usually quiet. Probably usually because he's been reminded he isn't alone, his experiences and reactions to them are valid. And absolutely when he almost lost Theron. And... possibly in private, alone, pacing his quarters after Theron's 'defection.' But you'll never get him to confirm or deny and if anybody in the Alliance knows, they're not talking. So, I guess, tldr, moments of extreme emotional honesty, times where he's felt he's been able to lay himself bare and be accepted, jagged edges and all. Theron's shoulder is a really good place for him to hide and process all of that vulnerability.

#answered #swtor ocs #ch: tyr #hrhghghghghghkdsfnals i love him ur honor #imperial agent

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annaberunoyume · 10 months

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I'm curious, how do you define "wokism" and what problems do you think it causes?

I define ''wokism'' as so-called progressive ideas that seems good on the outside, but are terrible on the inside.

Like ''affirmative action'', or, as I have heard, to reject an application for college, not because a person's score is bad, but simply because said person happens to be white, and right now, the college is rejecting it because right now, they want more black people or ''colored'' people. It is a sort of reverse racism to me. And if left unchecked, could go sour. Another thing that I consider ''wokism'' is systematically putting down men in movies, with a condescending joke...all...the...freaking...time at their expenses. All in the name of feminism. But men suffers, too, you know. Battered men exist and they need shelters as much as women do. I get that some radical feminists seems to want to take over as a sorta vendetta, but dangit, let the men be, sometimes.

Another horrid ''wokist'' thing I have seen on Youtube is an app (the app HER, I believe) for lesbians that kicked out one of its members, simply because she specified in her bio that she does not want trans women. So what? It does not warrant a bann to me. At least, that user was honest. I could go on and on with many other examples, but what I've seen and what I also consider as ''wokism'' is a hypocrite dislike for anything that is not ''woke enough". Like calling a gay person that does not parade in rainbows 24/7 and kinda finds said rainbow gays obnoxious, a-holes. (Rolls eyes) So much for tolerance and acceptance... You can never satisfy the most wokist of those people....Ever.

Also, one last thing I despise as a side-effect of wokism is how entertainment, mainly mainstream movies, just feel so condescending to the audience. They do inclusity, sure, but they create insufferable mary sues for female leads (just at Helena from Indiana Jones, the Dial of Destiny...Gosh, I just wanted her to shut up for a dang minute in that movie! She is despicable, arrogant, know-it-all and never respects Indiana, once. She may have things to say, I suppose, but she did not do the trick for me. I prefer Marion.). Why do these new female leads always have to be so cocky? They do not quite feel human to me. Also, as a side-note, the horrid practice of changing the language to include weird, impersonal, non-human terms, for example, ''mothers'' becoming ''birthing person''. And ''vagina'' become ''front hole'' as to not offend no one (I kid you not, in some places in the Uk, they began using those terms.). What's this? 1984?

Anyway, I hope that answers your question, anon. I just miss the more common-sense, less extreme way of doing things.

#anon question #anon answer #what is wokism #anti wokism #my honest opinion #my opinion #woke #wokeism #what wokism is to me

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candyunicornsateme · 3 years

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When it comes to Kenny being portrayed in a more outgoing way, it can really depend for me.... It’s not that I can’t see him being a little... ;) at all, I can adore that. It’d make sense that he could come out of his shell - literally and metaphorically - so it does fit and is cute! But I feel sometimes it crosses a line between friendly and charming to cocky douche vibes. Not to say that he ‘should’ or does lack confidence, but it just doesn’t feel right to have him acting like.... super cocky? LOL.

#this was my recent thoughts ehehhehe #rimble ramble #kenny mccormick #sdlifhsoidfhsdkf #i do like if he's got a lil mischievous playful winkwink vibes #but dislike if its way too arrogant or cocky like..... not for me

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padawanlost · 3 years

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So I was on Quora the other day, and someone speculated that insecurity was at the root of Anakin's arrogance and apparent cockiness. I thought this through and it makes so much sense. He felt insecure in his place as a Jedi and had this constant need to prove himself. What's your take?

Personally, I’ve never seen Anakin as arrogant. I think he was *perceived* as arrogant by the people around him but, internally, Anakin was also driven by insecurity (not egotism).

Because he was so insecure in a place where he knew he wasn’t accepted as he was, he overcompensated. It’s a very common behavior: I’ll try harder to prove myself. And because he was so powerful, his attempt to prove himself worthy was viewed as an attempt to show off.

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn. And they stopped him training the Chosen One. Qui-Gon hadn’t cared what the Jedi Council said. He’d trained him anyway, a Padawan in all but name. Why am I thinking of all this now? Haven’t I put it behind me? Haven’t I had enough bad memories since then to take their place? Haven’t I vindicated Master Qui-Gon? [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

Anakin enjoyed praise from Obi-Wan, but often became sullen when he was reprimanded. Obi-Wan assured him that he himself had been frequently reminded by Qui-Gon to be more mindful of the Force, but somehow even the slightest criticism managed to leave Anakin feeling stung. First they tell me to do my best, then they tell me I’ve gone too far! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

Because Anakin had not been trained since infancy at the Temple like nearly all other Padawans, various Jedi Masters accepted the fact that he lacked the discipline of his fellow students. They were less accepting, however, of his arrogant behavior when he demonstrated his abilities. I’m more powerful with the Force than some of my instructors, Anakin thought, and they know it! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

Despite Anakin’s desire to distance himself from the slave he had once been, he was unable, or unwilling, to shed the other aspects that had defined him on Tatooine. He still dreamed of glory, still craved adventure, and never lost his appetite for high-speed thrills and the desire to prove himself in competition. THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM

What evidence to we truly have that Anakin was arrogance beyond people calling him that? And considering most of his peers and superiors didn’t take much time to get to truly know him, I’d say their option can be considered biased:

Anakin was liked by the other students, but he had no close friends. He was not loved. Obi-Wan told himself that Anakin’s gifts naturally set him apart. But in his heart, he grieved for Anakin’s loneliness. JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE WAY OF THE APPRENTICE]

Just when Anakin thought he’d passed that elusive finishing line that said adult, experienced, seen it all, he realized he was still twenty, Jedi or not, and the wounded boy in him still rose to the surface—provoked into angry violence, scared of abandonment, and still in need of approval. KAREN TRAVISS [STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS NOVELIZATION]

[Obi-Wan] knew, glancing at his Padawan’s eager face, that Anakin meant well from the bottom of his heart. If Obi-Wan saw a shadow on that heart, he knew it would pain his Padawan to know it. In many ways, Anakin was still a boy. A wounded, loving, anxious boy with great gifts he did not fully understand. Yet he was also a young man, close to maturity, who could do great harm. To others, yes. To himself, most of all JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]

“I just…” Anakin stopped. He took a ragged breath. “I thought you would be proud of me.” I am proud of you. Obi-Wan wanted to say the words. They were true. He was proud of so much in Anakin. But now was not the time to tell him that. Or was it? JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]

Fixing broken machines was like a meditation. Fixing broken machines was an antidote to every pain, every loss, every fear, every defeat. Fixing broken machines kept him from going mad. CLONE WARS GAMBIT: STEALTH

This doesn’t sound like some who thinks that highly of himself.

“Master…,” he said hesitantly, “I know I’ve… disappointed you in these past few days. I have been arrogant. I have… not been very appreciative of your training, and what’s worse, of your friendship. I offer no excuse, Master. My frustration with the Council… I know that none of it is your fault, and I apologize. For all of it. Your friendship means everything to me.”

Interestingly enough, Obi-wan says it best:

You are very observant, Ferus, but you must accept that I know him better than you,” Obi-Wan said carefully. “Anakin can be arrogant. I know that. But he is also learning and growing. He is respectful of his great power. He does not abuse it. He is younger than you, but he has seen much injustice, many terrible things. I do not think it so wrong that he wants to change things. You must understand that it isn’t ambition that drives him. It is compassion. OBI-WAN KENOBI IN STAR WARS – JEDI QUEST: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD BY JUDE WATSON

Yes. Anakin can act arrogantly. We all can. It’s part of being human and flawed. but that doesn’t mean that was ALL Anakin was. More often than not, Anakin was motivated by fear, love, kindess and, yes, even hate.

Taking them, she looked up at him and shook her head, even though it still ached. “It’s odd. You’re nothing like I expected.” “Why?” he said, perching on the edge of the nearby chair. “What did you expect?” “I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” That made him smile. “As opposed to what?” She swallowed the pain-tabs, washing them down with a mouthful of water. “Oh. You know. The HoloNet news—it portrays as you as this—this—heroic warrior. Larger than life. Charging into battle, lightsaber flashing. Scourge of the Separatists. That kind of thing.” She shrugged. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Because of Hayden’s Anakin being do disliked and, of course, because of the TCW wonky characterization everyday we are seeing more and more people embracing the idea of arrogant idiot Anakin. even if such characterization is not supported by the movies, the lore and basic common sense.

People use Obi-wan’s words in AOTC against Anakin but the truth is, as shown above, Obi-wan himself later recognizes that Anakin is not arrogant (even if he sometimes act that away). Besides, using AOTC to show Anakin’s arrogance doesn’t make much sense because of Hayden’s acting. Anakin doesn’t act like some arrogant prick for most of the movie. if anything, AOTC is a great of example of Anakin’s submissive and insecure behavior.

At last, let’s not forget that the same people calling Anakin arrogant were also facing the same criticism:

“But he still has much to learn, Master,” Obi-Wan explained. “His skills have made him … well, arrogant.” “Yes, yes,” Yoda agreed. “It’s a flaw more and more common among Jedi. Too sure of themselves, they are. Even the older, more experienced Jedi.” [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]

People seem to forget that Anakin was in his early 20s when he ‘died’. Show me a teenager or a young adult who’ve never acted arrogantly and i’ll show you a liar. So why is Anakin the only one getting shit for that?

So, yeah, i agree. Anakin wasn’t motivated by arrogance. He was motivated by fear and insecurity, byproducts of his childhood trauma and years of grooming and emotional neglect.

#ask #englishlady #anakin skywalker #sw meta #meta: anakin #txt

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hrina · 4 years

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Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

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matryosika · 3 years

Text

shoot me, chapter V

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV chapter V

word count for this chapter — 3.7 k

warnings — exhibitionism, fingering, mild humilliation, dirty talk, daddy kink, sort of orgasm denial?

note — this chapter was more focused on describing where the story it's going to go next. also some insights as to what changbin has been thinking the whole time.

i want to thank you all for waiting, once again, and next week i'll be completely free from school so that's nice! i think there are a very few chapters left for this, so stay tuned :-)

taglist:@cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh @pinkishwen

that night was all it took for you and changbin to start fucking almost every single day. at arthur's house when he wasn't around, his place, his parent's place, his car... the hunger you both had for each other was insatiable and you couldn't really understand why.

sex was awesome with him, he was perfect for you in that aspect. but every time he opened his mouth... god, you just wanted to get into a fist fight with him. he was cocky, arrogant, proud, kind of stupid, egocentric, self-centered... long story short, an asshole. you disliked him so much but maybe that was the reason behind you being completely at his mercy in bed.

"so, i was thinking" changbin went as the two of you entered the elevator of arthur's company ready to leave. he was nice enough to offer you a ride to arthur's house because you had lunch plans with hyejin, your sister "how about dinner tonight?"

you looked at him confused, a slight smirk appearing at the corners of your lips "do i look like i'm interested in getting to know you?" you asked, playfully. you could see from the side how hard he swallowed, licking his lips and trying to gain composure after how you mocked him for inviting you to something so casual as a dinner can be.

"we spend a lot of time together anyways" he responded "i was trying to be nice with you"

"you couldn't be nice even if you tried" you replied, pushing the botton of the building's first floor "we both know we are fucking and that's it. i'm leaving in a couple of months, you will never see me again... no need to get to know eachother"

changbin made a grin as he snapped his neck, releasing the tension of his shoulders. you wouldn't know this, but it actually took him quite courage to invite you.

"dinner" you whispered, laughing faintly "god, men are so pathetic thinking we are all waiting for them to be our charming prince when in reality you are all useless"

"really?" he asked, watching as the numbers of the little screen decreased, indicating that there were 7 floors left. "even me?"

"specially you, changbin" you said, crossing your arms without parting your gaze from the doors "all cocky and arrogant, if you didn't know how to use that mouth for something else you would be a pity"

suddenly, the elevator stopped and the lights were dimmed. you glanced right at changbin, who was pressing one of the elevator buttons as it shuted down "what the fuck are you doing?"

"you don't get tired do you?" he mumbled, approaching your body. the elevator was painfully small to escape, so your back soon met the other wall that was now suffocating the both of you "you never get tired of opening that stupid mouth of you"

"i don't know what you did to the elevator but you better make it work again" you said, swallowing hard. changbin's thigh parted yours, his jeans making contact with your clothed core immediatly "i have plans and i'm not going to be late because you have the libido of a 14 year old who can't control himself"

"when has that bothered you, princess?" his lips approached your ear, nipping at your lobe, giving you goosebumps on your skin "because as far as i can remember, you are always who ends up begging for me to fuck her"

you looked right at changbin as his lips left your neck.

his eyes.

his fucking eyes.

you couldn't count how many times you had cum only because he made eye-contact while he was fucking you. his gaze transmitted a lot of things that his mind and mouth failed to do.

"is my princess already too needy?" he asked, laughing. you snapped back from his gaze and soon realized that your hips were already grinding against the end of his thigh. your cheeks turned bright red as the arrogance you showed just a few seconds ago was already gone.

"i can't fucking deal with you" you spitted, your whole body sweating due to the lack of air conditioner and how aroused you were by changbin's closeness.

"look at how pathetic you look, y/n" he growled, his voice getting deeper. you had fucked with changbin enough to learn his body language when he started to feel aroused. his voice would get deeper and lower, his eyes would get darker, his breathing would get heavy... you knew every detail there is to be known about him. "i can feel through your skin how hot you are, i bet your tight cunt is throbbing isn't it?"

you licked your lips, trying to part your eyes from his in an attempt to lower your libido "my poor princess must be dripping wet" he pouted, his thigh still making contact with you but the rest of his body was mere inches away from yours "i bet my pretty princess is just thinking about daddy pounding into her so fucking hard right here in this elevator"

he knew what he was doing.

he knew how much you loved it when he dirty talked like that, specially referring himself in third person. you couldn't really know why, but it drove you insane.

"changbin" you moaned, your head falling back as your hips moved slowly against him "if you are going to do something, just do it now"

"but i'm useless" he laughed, now using your own words to make you even needier "i'm a cocky arrogant asshole, you said it yourself"

"yeah, was i wrong?" you asked him, whining at the feeling of him withdrawing his thigh from your cunt.

"you just don't learn anything" his body approached the set of buttons next to the elevator gates, ready to press the same button he did just mere seconds ago.

"stop" you mumbled, approaching him as fast as you could. your whole body jumping into his embrace as you planted an aggresive kiss into his lips.

changbin's neediness only made you more wet, his hands on your ass gripping it as he landed a few spanks on it "who was the one who had the libido of a 14 year old?" he muttered in between kisses, his voice sending shivers to your spine and core.

your hands traveled instinctively to his belt, trying to release his painful bulge that was now rubbing against your pubic area.

"mhmh no" he breathed, landing you on the floor as he turned you around so that your back could meet the wall for support "i have a meeting after this, you are going home. i can't afford to ruin my clothes"

with greedy hands, and while he was on his knees for you, your panties were now gone of your body "such a pretty princess" he moaned, covering you in kisses from your legs to your thighs "open up your legs a little bit more for me"

and you did as he ordered, your whole body shaking in anticipation of contact. your breathing was strangled and it was getting really hard to swallow. your heart was beating ten times faster as a trail of thoughts flooded your mind "are there cameras in here? what if the elevator starts working again and the doors open? is it going to start working again in the first place? fuck, this feels so good"

"you still think i'm useless?" changbin asked, a smile appearing on his face as your whole body squirmed at the feeling of his breath against your wetness "i can make you all this worked up in a matter of seconds and you still think i'm useless"

"just shut the fuck up, please" you moaned, gripping his black hair and sinking his lips against your clit "fuck, just shut up"

changbin's hands held to the back of your knees for support as both of your hands were on his head, trying to get him closer to where you needed him the most. changbin's way of eating you out was needy and messy, his tongue and lips tasting every single part there was of you down there, licking all your wetness and making sure to make contact in the places he knew would make you feel good.

your hips moved in circular motions against his mouth as you were riding his face, changbin's eyes fixed on how your chest was moving stupidly fast.

"right there daddy, right there" you moaned, your head reincoporating to make eye-contact with him, immediatly making your hips move even faster.

"right here?" he hummed, sending waves of pleasure throughout your whole body that was barely standing, your knees threatening to give up any time.

"changbin" you moaned, feeling how his fingers made their way through your legs and into your inner thighs "god you make me feel so fucking good"

changbin's cock twitched at your words, making him growl against your body as his tongue increased its pace, now accompanied with two of his fingers pounding inside you.

"daddy" you cried, your legs shaking as one of your hands left his dark hair to support yourself even more by resting on the lowall "i think i'm going to cum"

as you breathed out the last words, changbin withdrew from your cunt with a proud smirk growing in his face as he witnessed the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks.

"too bad i'm just a cocky useless man" he mumbled, one of his hands reaching the exact same button he pressed to make the elevator stop, only to push it again.

the lights of the elevator turned on as well as the engine, the air conditioner now working. your gaze could catch a glimpse of the floor you were in, but your mind was too fucked out to even re-think your decision.

before changbin could get up from his knees, your hands traveled all the way to his hair as you aggressively grinded against his lips again, the now threatening knot to come undone at any second.

6th floor.

the arousal from being in a public space, the possibility of being caught, changbin's gaze, your inner frustration and the faint sounds of changbin moaning against your skin only made you needier.

5th floor.

with strength, changbin's nails gripped the back of your thighs, his tongue accelerating the pace to match the one from your hips.

4th. floor.

"fuck i-" you moaned, tears uncontrollably streaming down your cheeks and getting lost at the fabric of your dress. changbin's gaze admiring your whole body was the last thing you needed tu cum.

3rd. floor.

"changbin" you cried as the knot came undone. his growls were coming out louder than ever, the excitement of being at a public place intoxicating all his senses. you could feel yourself dripping into his mouth, something that hadn't really happened before. changbin's lips never left your core, licking clean all your juices as his hands now caressed the back of your thighs.

2nd. floor.

"fuck" you cried, changbin standing up from his knees as his lips and chin glistened with your own fluids.

1st. floor.

carefully, he took the panties you had worn that day and he stuffed them in one of the pockets of his black jeans.

"give them back" you whispered, your voice raspy as you spent the last 5 minutes with your mouth opened. changbin gave you a side smile as you fixed your dress and hair, standing in front of the gates as if nothing had happened mere seconds ago.

your breathing was fast, just like your heartbeat, and your skin was glistening with sweat.

the doors opened.

five men and a woman were waiting desperately for it, almost running inside as if they were already late for whatever they had to do. before you and changbin could even get out, he pulled you in for a kiss so you could taste a glimpse of your own juices on his lips right in front of them.

he kissed you at a public place.

not just a public place, but a place where people knew him and you.

before the doors closed again, changbin stepped out of the elevator while pressing gently your lower back as he guided your movements to start walking. you were still in shock about everything that happened, specially the last part of it.

with a swift movement, he approached your ear as he was walking besides you, whispering the words you'll never forget

"next time, learn to watch your mouth when you are speaking with the man who owns you"

[Changbin's POV]

the thought of you was driving him insane. the sight he got from you at the elevator was something that would be tattooed in his mind for the rest of his days; the way you eagerly chased your orgasm using him for your own pleasure as droplets of sweat toured your whole body, the sound of your whines and moans as you were approaching the highest point of your arousal, the gaze you gave him just right before you came undone on his lips... he had fucked too many women before, never bothered to learn the name of any of them. but you, every single part of the way you moved, talked and acted was like an invitation to get lost into a territory he knew wasn't supposed to explore.

and that only made him want to explore it even more.

"have you talked to jisung yet?" bang chan asked him, sitting down in the couch right besides him as he extended him a can of beer.

"he won't talk to me" changbin replied without even looking at him.

"it's been almost 3 weeks since the party" chan argued, relaxing his whole body on the couch as he took a sip of his beer "i know he has been texting you, he showed me the messages"

"okay, yeah, he has been trying to talk to me" changbin muttered, annoyed "but i don't want to talk to him just now, alright?"

"look" chan said, reincorporating into the couch to be closer with him "jisung didn't know that you liked the-"

"i don't like her" changbin interrumpted, making a gesture with his hand so chan would stop talking.

"then why wouldn't you talk to jisung then?"

changbin made a pause and bit his lower lip, trying to come up with a lie quickly.

"why are you acting like a fucking highscooler anyways, changbin?" chan stormed, leaving the can of beer in the the coffee table by the couch "seriously, all you have been talking about for the past month is her. there's nothing wrong with liking someone, you don't have to make such a fucking big deal about it"

"i don't know" changbin slightly grunted in frustration "i don't know"

"do whatever you want to deal with your emotions but just talk to jisung, please" chan pleaded, resting one of his hands on changbin's shoulders "i won't give you any dating advice but please, for the love of god, leave your fucking jealousy and possesiveness issues and talk to him"

changbin was left alone at chan's living room as he finished his can of beer, reflecting on some of the things the brown-haired just said.

"what's the big deal about it? i'm fucking obssessed with her and i can't do anything about it"

[flashback]

"changbin, can i spare some of your time for a minute?" the old man asked as y/n and changbin's parents were leaving his office. changbin looked at him with half-lidded eyes as they were leaving to grab some lunch together. "we will be joining you in a while, i just have to talk with him about work"

his parents smiled as they continue on walking towards the hall, followed by the long-haired woman changbin met at the bar last night"

"you like what you see?" arthur asked, following changbin's gaze who was now fixed on y/n as she walked through the corridor.

"excuse me?" changbin cleared his throat, unsure of what to answer to a very specific and blunt question.

"do you know her?" arthur asked, the environment of the room changing drastically as he persecuted the young man with questions.

"why would i know her, sir" changbin replied.

"you were looking at her as if she was familiar"

"no" he answered, trying to keep his posture so arthur couldn't catch any glimpse of his awkwardness.

"look, changbin" arthur mumbled in a sort of playful tone, landing a hand on changbin's back as he palmed it slightly "you know i trust you, right?"

changbin nodded.

"i don't know how much time she will be staying here, but i would really love for her to have a healthy time while she is in korea" the man said, smiling as if changbin was understanding his words "meaning i don't want her getting with any man around here, you understand me?"

"yes, sir"

"and that's why i want you to get close to her while she is here, so you can make sure she is not... doing anything she isn't supposed to"

changbin licked his lips and nodded, kind of unsure on what answers to give since arthur had never approached him with such a serious topic.

"and that includes you" he said as his grip on changbin's shoulder went rougher "i don't want you near her with any intentions other than to take care of her as if she was your family"

"right" changbin agreed.

"what would people say if they saw my daughter engaging in... that kind of behaviors, drinking, smoking, doing whatever the hell you young people do before marriage" arthur clicked his tongue as his head moved from side to side "i brought her here because my fiancee told me to, but y/n can be quite problematic and i don't want her to ruin my status"

this wasn't about her, this is about him.

"i understand" changbin replied, a hint of anger sparking through his veins at his words.

"i don't want her to distract you either" arthur continued "the minute i see you getting closer to her in a way you are not supposed to, you are out of here"

arthur's words were serious, but his tone was playful and even teasing, as if the two of them were just joking about casual things and not the probability of losing the future changbin worked his ass for.

"that last part is just out of pride" arthur smiled "she is my daughter after all"

[y/n's pov]

"are you alright?" hyejin asked you as you had barely touched your food.

the thought of the kiss changbin gave you right after exiting the elevator was completely engraved in your brain. it was risky, it was innapropiate, and it was something that felt amazing in ways you couldn't even begin to explain.

that shouldn't be happening.

you were just fucking with him because 1) you liked it and 2) because you liked the idea of fucking someone your father thrusted with his life.

it was like some sort of deranged payback for all those years he wasn't around. the idea of someone putting at risk his loyalty to arthur for you was exciting enough, and that was the main reason of why you continued the game.

or so you thought.

"what do you know about changbin?" you asked her, bluntly. she laughed and covered his mouth as particles of food made their way out as she gasped.

"do you like him?" hyejin asked, fixing his hair behind her ear as she landed her chopsticks on the plate "i didn't think he was your type"

"i don't like him" you replied, taking an extra effort to hide any hint of nervousness that could be seen by her "i'm just interested in knowing why my father adores him that much"

"well" hyejin started "i have never really talked to him, like ever. he has been around for as long as i can remember but we had never gotten along. i believe its because of the age difference, you know?"

you nodded.

"his parents are arthur's best friends since college, maybe, i'm not too sure" she hummed as his eyes looked everywhere on the restaurant, trying to remember more information about the man himself "there's not really much to know about him anyways. i went to school with one of his friends's brother, his last name is Han"

jisung's brother, the guy at the party.

"we worked together a lot in university and we would often get together to make projects and stuff, uh... changbin was there often too, because of jisung. he really has a bad reputation with women, you know?"

you licked your lips and took a sip of water, intrigued.

"they were barely adults at that age but they would often talk about all the women they allegedly fucked" hyejin laughed "that man has a longer list than i do and i'm 26"

the memory of changbin with that girl at chan's party strucked your mind, and a lot of questions started to flood your mind. is he fucking someone else while he is fucking with me?

not that it mattered, because this was solely for the sex, right?

"he is cute, i'll give you that" hyejin followed, ignoring the comment you made earlier about how you didn't actually liked him "but if i were you, i wouldn't go down there. not only is he some sort of casanova but i also heard arthur threatening about being careful around you"

you opened your eyes, completely surprised. "what do you mean?"

"the very first days you arrived here" hyejin mumbled, his mouth full of food " i was going to ask arthur about some project we have in mind and before i could enter to his office, i heard this little chat with him. the usual, you know, but he did told him something along the lines of being careful with his job and future regarding you"

you swallowed hard.

the kiss had now even more impact than it did before.

the idea of arthur threatening changbin was all in your head at first, you didn't actually believed he would do such a thing. but hyejin saying this so casually only made your soul ablaze.

changbin wasn't supposed to be doing any of the things he was doing for you and he was still risking them.

whether it was lust, ambivalence or obsession, the thought of him breaking rules only made you feel a current of electricity through your veins.

falling in love wasn't part of your plans, but ruining arthur's pride was.

and changbin was the best option for this.

#stray kids smut #stray kids angst #skz smut #skz angst #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader #changbin smut #kpop angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #skz imagines #skz oneshots #changbin #kpop smut

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lovee-infected · 4 years

Note

Hi there! How would the twst boys react to their s/o being slapped by Eliza 😂. Thanks for feeding us the wonderful headcanons! 💜

I love writing for such brilliant ideas , enjoy !

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle goes blank for a second , unsure what to say or how to react : Half of him wanted to act in and condemn ghosts for their arrogance to lay a hand on you but on the other hand , he knew that he didn't have the right to ; It was their brides choice and she did have the right to do it - which wasn't really pleasant -

You give him a sad look , expecting a show of mercy of sympathy , but he didn't move an eyebrow

You run to a silent corner to cry , and he comes after you . Riddle gives you a hug and apologizes that he couldn't help anything back then

He criticizes your movements as well , how you didn't present yourself properly and why Eliza could've changed her mind

But in the end ; he gives you a small reminder : " Perfect or not , know that you're enough for me ,"

Trey Clover

He got slapped himself so he understands how the world flashed before your eyes for a second

You look a bit down about failing so easily while you were trying to help ; but so did Trey . You get each other on that point

He barely notices it but he literally doesn't know how to flirt , but he tries his best to cheer you up "Ah don't give me that face ! At least you were waaay better than me,"

Well , maybe you weren't such an overly perfect being but neither was Trey , he was just an ordinary guy you'll get to see everyday ; not a stunning prince . It seems like the two of you come from a rather similar level

Perhaps that's why the two of you get along pretty well

Cater Diamond

You didn't expect him to even put his phone down for you but he eventually did ; you find it pretty odd to see him this eager about anything without wanting to share it via Internet , but it also means that he does care for you

He doesn't bother touching your cheek and asking if it hurts

He plants a small kiss on your blushing face and then goes salty again : " So glad that she didn't get you , means you're still all mine ! "

He brings up his phone and before you could've recognized , takes a selfie of him kissing an all shocked you . You beg him to delete it but he isn't listening , but he insures you that this one's a private issue so he won't post it ; perhaps the first selfie he isn't going to share anywhere

Ace Trappola

Trey and Riddle grab his body and mouth before he could do something stupid , how dare she , how dare she slaps you !?

Ace ws already tired of this drama with the hopelessly romantic bride , and you were the final shock .

" SHE IS A HUNDRED TIMES BETTER THAN Y-" Ace tries to shout at Eliza but Riddle grabs him by collar and puts a hand on his mouth : "YOU IDIOT WHAT ARE YOU..."

You come to calm him down , insisting that it's really nothing important , you didn't care . He still seems to be really pissed off at Eliza : " Huh , does she really think that she's any big deal ? My- girls are really crappy sometimes ,-"

Ace refuses to believe that you don't feel any offended so he pulls you to his embrace and keeps on sending you positive vibes non-stop : " You're gorgeous (y/n)! I mean it ! You're smart , talented , dignified ..."

Deuce Spade

He is low-key happy that you two join him at the losers bench . At least you won't now see him as the awkward loser he was in front of Eliza ; not too much to say

"So you too got slapped ?" he tells you he has no idea how to start the conversation

He knows that he is supposed to do something better but he is just blank about it

One half of him wants to hug you and tell that it's fine , then ask if you think he's awkward or something . But the other half just doesn't know what to say

He says that you two must learn some social skills together , that's the most he can do to flirt now : He soft boy

Leona Kingscholar

He actually doesn't mind insulting you a little for getting slapped . He's pissed off himself so he appreciates teasing you

From putting on a cocky smile and smirking to playing with you using sarcastic words

His very last sarcasm seems to be the worst : " I can say that you are way lower than royal standards ,"

But he puts a different end to his words : "...But since I as well got rejected , I guess we're now rejected mates ,"

Is it his sarcastic way of saying a small "I love you" ? Yes it is

Ruggie Bucchi

He didn't bother to come and try proposing , but wasn't expecting for you to try either . He lets out one of his Hyena-like giggles and comes to you

" Was that bride this savage ? Then I'm thankful that I didn't show up ! " he sneakers

He disappears for a second and comes back with an ice-pack : " Geez , it's my third time doing it today . Come over ," he tells you

He already did it for Leona and Jack because he was told to , but he is all ready to give you all those services and more to you

He does enjoy teasing you , but nursing you in situations like this is another hubby of him , after all you're an exception

Jack Howl

He kinda feels guilty about you getting slapped ; he shouldn't have let you tried it anyway . The possibility of you making it was low and you weren't a NRC student anyway

He knows that everyone else were the same but when it was you who got slapped right in front of everyone , he fears it being an issue

He quickly checks on you to see if you're fine and or need a doctor

He is a bit worried about your face swelling so he takes you school's nurse

On your way back , you thank him because of caring for you and he starts to blush and denies it all : " What do you mean ? It was nothing important . No need to thank ,"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul grabs your hand , wishes Idia a happy marriage and the two of you leave the rest in the middle of chaos

He nags under the lips , telling how he wished others to let him turn her into a little clam

He telles you what an unfortunate soul Eliza is , not only did she die on her marriage day but she also lost perfect lover such as you

He doesn't care about the rest now , so he decides to leave them on their own and instead , have some free time with you

While you wear having some tea at mostrolounge , he shakes head and insults Eliza : " You are surely too much for her , my dear (y/n) . Ghosts always envy humans ; specially when it comes to someone as great as you ~"

Jade Leech

Eliza is now pretty odd to him , first she dislikes the flowers , and now , she rejects you ? Ghosts seem to be even weirder than surface creatures , he thinks

He understands the high standards required while choosing a partner , but you don't seem to lack anything ? How strange

He even cares to ask Eliza about what she might have disliked about you since you don't seem to have any problems , but he avoids it anyway because he isn't ready to get secondly slapped

He offers you a short walk with a bright smile , and you accept

" Miss Eliza surely has weird standards , (y/n) sweetie . You were perfect enough to win ,"

Too bad Crowley insists on them respecting their ghost visitors as long as the stay , Jade is really encouraged to give them a lesson . But uh , he has to have a hold of himself as Octavinelle's vice dorm leader

" Too bad she is dead , flowers would have had an interesting effect if she weren't ," he sighs

Floyd Leech

This bride is getting on his nerves , loud , dumb , in love with a blue , awkward chicken and finds silly excuses to reject everyone proposing to her. If she weren't dead , Floyd would wish her to be . Some brats are better dead

He doesn't see any need to spoil you , but he decides to spill somevtea since it was you " Don't worry shrimpy . You may not be perfect , but she's worse than you , " he flirts .He gives you a tight hug and squeezes you , rambling that it's because Eliza didn't let him do that

He actually finds the red mark on your face cute , saying that it makes your skin color just similar to a shrimp .

He can't help loving your -shrimp-like face - and so , he lowers his head and gives it a small kiss

Vil Schoenheit

If Eliza were alive , Vil would love it now to burn her alive in a huge dig of poison . Or maybe feed him to the dogs , both seem nice

He gently holds your face within his hands and carefully looks at the mark Eliza left behind

He curses under the lips and then pulls you into a soft hug : " Don't mind her love , lowly creatures are unworthy of true beauty , don't let their though bring you down," he mumbles

He absolutely hates being disrespected like this , so he leaves it to Rook and Epel ; though he doubts them being any helpful

He takes you to Pomefiore for firstly , making sure that your slapped face won't swell and then , giving you a full day spa . From extreme showers to putting on your makeup

When you're done , he stares at you through the mirror and smiles : " What an idiot she was to lose this stunning beauty of yours ,"

Rook Hunt

This bride keeps fascinating him , first Vil and now you ? Good god , she is pathetic

Rook really looks up to both of you as a symbol of beauty , grace and in general , perfection . Seeing the two of you being insulted like this is a real pitty

He is being relied on as one of the only four guys who didn't get slapped so he sadly doesn't have much time to comfort you now ; so he comes up with a new idea :

He asks you to give him the pleasure and be his : Bride model ; he has got plenty of tricks up his sleeve , but he still needs to practice them on someone

His long and beautiful poem which was hiding an I love you within its words , and his brilliance ways of winning one's heart leave you speechless ; not ever imagining that he might be this much of a romance man

He practices literally anything he was planning to do with you , and then comes up with the final words : " Dearest (y/n) , would you give me the honor of being your servant of love for eternity ? "

Epel Felmier

You got...what ? Epel was a normal guy at least in his own opinion , Vil senpai was surely beautiful but...not perfect either . But why you ? You didn't seem to have any specific problems . He doesn't like this thing with proposing anyways , so he was hoping someone , specially you , to succeed before he has to...

He is supposed to be practicing dos and don'ts of being a perfect groom , but he just can't do it without checking on you

He comes to you and gives you a tight hug , asking if you're alright

He confesses that he as well is now really scared since he has never even kissed a girl before , but he's going to try his best and put an end into this

He isn't the best of his own , but if a prince on a white horse is what this Ghost needed , he is going to make it , and prove it to you that he can

Kalim al asim

He doesn't know what is going on when you face him with your half red face , he gasps and worriedly starts asking questions : was there a fight ? Did you get hurt ? Was someone trying to bully you ? Who on earth had dared to do this to you !?

You explain the whole issue with he ghost bride and how almost everyone got slapped , making him calm down a bit

He now wants to have a word with this bride , it's rude to slap people just because you don't like them and that really bugs Kalim

Jamil stops him by reminding that it's none of Scarabia's business and as the dorm leader , he has to stay here taking care of more important stuff

Kalim has to agree but he isn't quite satisfied , but he comes up with another way to cheer you up :

" Imagine you're the bride and I'm proposing to you , let's see if I get slapped or not ! "

Jamil Viper

Just as Kalim , he can't imagine why you got slapped for at first but when you explain , he chills a bit

Most of the brides Jamil know gave in to marriage after being given tons of gold and jewelry , but since it is with a ghost , he wondered what might actually attract her. Princesses have to marry people from the same level as themselves , probably a prince or someone pretty rich ; so he isn't really fascinated that you and others all got slapped

He can't help it much , but perhaps insulting all other guys losing their chance is something he would appreciate talking about . It isn't clear if he wants you to feel better by neglecting every other guy or is just trying to chill a bit ; anyways it's joyful for you to talk and having him spending some time with you alone

Idia Shroud

Idia is locked inside the room ,, but he hears sound of you trying to propose to Eliza . His feeling are a bit complicated , both hopeful that Eliza would give up on him because of you and jealous of Eliza , whom you proposed to. No one's here to see him can freely admire your beautiful words coming one after one , and then an unexpected sound : You got slapped

Idia now has lost both his very last hope to get freed and his temper : His hair is slightly turning read . This crazy bride made him lose the global championship league of his favorite video game (since he was tied up by her ) and now slaps you !?

His thoughts are really wild now , especially because of how he can't do anything at all . He wishes he could see you and tell how beautiful and great he thinks your proposal was , hopeful that it'll make you smile

You still went out of his way and tried to free him , and that was more than enough for Idia . All he wishes is to see one more time and get to tell how he feels for you♥

Ortho Shroud

This ghost : Kidnapped his brother and now , slaps you

Who says robots can't feel anything ? Because now , Ortho is mad

He really does want to hack all of NRC's servers and share pictures of ghosts who dare kidnapping and insulting students without the principal doing anything . That'd be an end to Mr Crowley's career but since he isn't doing anything serious , he deserves it

You apologize him because of failing to save his brother , but he just gives you a hug telling how scared he is

You and Idia are the most important people in his life , he just can't stand having you hurt . Not even imagining what he might do if he loses any of you

Malleus Draconia

He wasn't there to recognize this any sooner , but Lilia and Sebek did tell him everything .He shouldn't show up in front of any other students (because they might spoil his real name ) and shouldn't show up in front of any ghosts (because they may catch him and force him to propose ). He was thinking of meeting you in front of ramshackle drom ; your regular corner but since there as well is haunted by the ghosts , he can't help but to wait for this drama to cool down

When you finally return to Ramshackle dorm in the middle of the night , your unexpected guest , tsuno-tarou , is waiting for you

You are suspicious that you didn't see him at all today , so he explains that due to some reasons he couldn't make it . He says hat he doesn't really know what had happened since he stayed in dorm all day , so you go on telling everything from the very beginning . He already knows everything but wants to hear it all from you one more time . He likes to see what they all might've looked like into your eyes . When you're done telling him the story , he giggles and asks one more question ; just curious to see how you'll answer : " So didn't you try proposing , or did you as well get slapped...?"

Lilia Vanrouge

This day was getting more and more complicated... First getting rejected for being too cute and having his 500+ year reputation ruined like this and now , you being the second to get slapped ; this isn't fair

He can help but to let his tears fall , if he's too cute then it's fine for him to cry . Sebek and you freak out in fear of him being through some sort of serious pain or injury , then he just laughs and tells you that he's alright . He just needed to comfort himself but freeing those tears

He doesn't see any need of today getting worse , so he doesn't mind flirting a bit . He jokes on whatever you rejected for not being more frustrating than being too cute and laughs

He thinks that you may like to talk more , so he brings up a more interesting issue : His hundred years experience with women

You are fascinated at how many times he has joined ladies for dances or drinking , yet has never been on a serious relationship

He's actually trying to spill more tea of his low experiements with relationships , hopeful that you get his point

Silver

You return along with Lilia and Sebek. , all of having half of your face red . Silver wasn't there to know what was going on or why Sebek is shouting at him for being a coward not trying to propose like a real man . Poor boy is just blank

Lilia takes Sebek along with him and leaves the two of you alone , so you start telling everything over . He tries his best to hide his laugh at the point where Sebek got slapped but he failed , then Lilia and finally , you

You tell him that you really feel frustrated about failing others and not being good enough , but it makes Silver gently laugh : " Well , from Leona Senpai to Mr . Vil , they all got slapped one by one , doesn't it sound a bit weird ? "

You surely don't get hos point so he continues : " When someone keeps rejecting everyone one by one , it means that they don't really know what they want. They're seeking perfection ; but no one's ever perfect enough for them . Through lovers would still love each other aside lacking too much on their own , and that's what makes their love last : They complete each other "

His words really move you and make you ask how he can tell all these words so beautifully

He gives you small smile and adds : " Well , it's because I've experienced it all with you "

Sebek Zigvolt

Having both master Malleus and you insulted on the same day : This is too much !

You shouldn't have been the one forced propose while others like Silver were laying comfortably on a sofa dreaming of rainforests and colorful birds , it wasn't your right !

He doesn't even ask , he immediately takes you to the nurse office to put a stick on your slapped face . You insist that it's be too much but he isn't listening

He then , apologizes for about an hour for not talking you out of something that wasn't even your duty and promises that there won't be a next time on it

You really get concerned at how stressed out this boy suddenly gets over nothing , so you cut him off by pulling yourself to his embrace and giving him a hug . He freezes at first , but then relaxes and hugs back

" Promise that I'll never let you down (y/n) , never"

♦♥♠♣

Tagging : @lilyholo @yourlittlerunt @minteasketches @epher-posts @takumipineapplexd @yandere-of-your-dreams

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bluewhale52 · 3 years

Text

Little Black Book: The One You Hate (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Seokjin, the one you hate.

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 3.9k

Warning: swearing, car blowjob, ass slapping, OC loves going down on Seokjin, sex against a window, sex between coworkers, love-hate relationship between OC and Seokjin (more on OC). I guess that’s about it….

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to @rainbhrts94 for beta-ing this piece. I was experiencing a burnout and having a hard time putting all my thoughts together, and her reviews and suggestions totally helped getting this fic into its final form. Thank you!! Also, I’m a total dodo when it comes to Tumblr so with some help from @aroseforyoongi and @moccahobi, I’m reposting this with hope that the link works this time round!

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

Kim Seokjin was the bane of your existence.

The cocky, arrogant IP attorney from the New York office had everyone on your floor in an uproar for weeks. You had seen him making one of the conference rooms his home away from home, with a hoard of lawyers and secretaries going in and out at his beckoning. You were watching them with jealousy. Sure, you were a mere junior in the firm and therefore the lowest in the food chain (just slightly above the interns), but you really wanted to be part of the action.

Then, somehow, during his last few days in Seoul, you were picked to help him and his team. Your excitement soon turned sour, as you were constantly on coffee and photocopy duties. How could you prove your worth when you were too busy being worked as Kim Seokjin’s personal server? Why couldn’t he ask one of his groupies? There were plenty of secretaries and PAs throwing themselves at him; you bet one of them would be happy to do this… THIS menial job. It was truly beneath your job description, and you started to simply, truly hate the man.

If that was really the case though, how did you end up in his luxury rental car, bending over towards the driver seat, sucking his cock? How did your mouth end up around his shaft, while your saliva dripped down and coated your fingers around his base? Why were your panties getting wetter with every moan and groan that left his lips? Why did you wish he would just spank your ass instead of tugging your hair? Why, when he came, did you gobble up his seed so greedily and lick him clean? Why did you even feel the need to stick your tongue out to him to show him you had swallowed every single drop?

Seokjin exhaled sharply then looked over at you as he tucked himself back in. “You do this with every visiting attorney?” He leered at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Just the one that pisses me off.”

He chuckled. “I should piss you off more then.”

“Are you going to drive me home or what?”

Seokjin started his car. The engine purred, and you pressed your thighs closer together at the soft vibrations that went through the car. “I promised I’d buy you dinner first, didn’t I?”

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I had a meal already, thanks.”

Seokjin sniggered as he pulled out of the parking lot. He had offered to drive you home - “the least I can do after all your hard work this week” he had said- and while your little apartment was at the other end of the city from the five-star hotel he was staying, it was indeed the least he could do for you. So when you had settled in his car and buckled your seatbelt, after he had asked if he could buy you dinner, you- in your frustration, because you hated him and you just wanted to go home (god, was that too much to ask)- muttered under your breath on how you would rather suck his dick than have dinner with him.

You had been taken aback when he broke into a brazen smile, challenging you to eat your own words, and damned if you were going to back down. Deep down, you had wanted to see if this perfect man with the perfect face and the perfect suits tailored around his perfect body (he had legs that went for miles, you hated to admit), also had the perfect dick.

It turned out that he did, and his perfect dick was perfectly hard when you unzipped him. And so, that was how you went down on Kim Seokjin, giving him a near perfect blowjob, in his car, in the basement parking lot of your firm. (Near perfect because honestly, you could have done a lot more had you had more ample space to move.)

You stole a glance at Seokjin as he drove. His side profile was sharp and too good to be true. Flashes of lights only further highlighted his jaw and cheekbones. You looked away, pouting.

“I’m flying back tomorrow evening.” He broke the silence. “You gonna miss me?”

You scoffed. “You wish. I’ll finally be able to do real work rather than making you coffee.”

He had the gall to laugh. “I’ll be back in two months. Don’t worry.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. How did you get into this? How could you possibly be so horny for him? Was it your dislike for him that made you like this? You should have known better than blowing him in his car just now. What if he started shooting his mouth off in the office? Or worse, in your personal promised land, THE New York office?

“Seokjin,” you started, “about what happened just now, I’d appreciate it if you keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, I’m not Yuna.”

You tilted your head at the name. Yuna was one of the senior partners’ secretary. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know? She’s been telling everyone how good I was in bed.”

“You slept with her?” You couldn’t mask your surprise. “I didn’t hear anything about it. I must’ve been so out of loop with the rumor mills. Wait… Is that why you’ve been asking me to do all that shit? So you don’t have to deal with her?”

“Smart girl.” Seokjin made a turn, stopping just outside your apartment complex. He turned off the engine.

“And here I thought you liked my coffee. And how I photocopied your endless documents.” You said dryly. “Thanks for the ride.”

Seokjin stopped you before you exited his car. “Aren’t you going to invite me to your place?”

You chortled. “Why, you need a goodbye fuck?” You spat it out, but internally, you hoped your playing hard to get was not going to backfire.

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked out of the car, eyeing your apartment building. “What kind of bedsheets do you have?”

“What do my bedsheets have to do with anything?”

“500 thread count? Or pure linen?”

You opened the car door and got out. “Bye Seokjin.”

He got out too, walking you to the main entrance. “I’ll buy you some. For next time I’m here. Two months from now.”

You scanned your access card, but he stopped you from opening the door.

“Not gonna kiss me goodnight, sweetheart?”

You turned to him and leaned forward. But instead of kissing him, you stuck your tongue out and licked him, along his jaw, all the way to his ear. You did not miss the shiver that ran through his body when you closed your lips around his earlobe. Smiling smugly, you opened the door, and as you were about to walk into your safe haven triumphantly, Seokjin slapped your ass. You stilled yourself, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction.

“See you in two months, sweetheart.” You heard him chuckle as the door closed behind you.

Kim Seokjin was truly the bane of your existence.

~~~

He returned to Seoul in two months. You were not keeping track on your calendar, no of course not. You just knew because the commotion was back, as it always was when he stepped into the office. He picked you again to assist his team (Yuna gave you an evil eye for that), and at the end of the work day, when you were filing papers and folders, he slipped a small envelope into your hand.

“Open it at your desk.” He said in a low whisper.

You looked at the envelope quizzically before putting it into your pocket. “Is it your credit card? To buy pure linen bed sheets?” You whispered back.

“Sweetheart, I already bought you a few sets from New York.”

You snorted. Later, when you were back at your desk, you took the envelope out and opened it. You found a note with a gold monogram of Seokjin’s initials at the top. You laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Under his insignia, was a series of digits you assumed to be his mobile number. You saved it in your phone.

There was something else in the envelope, however. A piece of key card, with the logo of the five-star hotel on one side, and handwritten 4-digit number on the other. Your eyes widened. Was this an invitation to his hotel room?

You peered out of your cubicle like a meerkat, trying to find where Seokjin was. Then you remembered foolishly you had his number. So you immediately texted him.

– You [18:40] : Seokjin, WTF???

– You [18:40] : also, nice stationery

– You [18:40] : it’s me btw

– Seokjin [18:41] : hurry the fuck up. I’ve been waiting for you in my car

You smiled. The time had finally come, you were going to fuck Kim Seokjin.

~~~

You had to admit, high quality bed sheets felt amazing. It hugged your naked body like soft clouds as Seokjin pounded into you relentlessly. His thrusts had caused your body to move, inch by inch, from one end of the bed to the other. You were not complaining though; the way he rammed himself into you made your breasts bounce back and forth like a pendulum on a string, the feeling was so delicious.

You gripped the edge of the bed as you watched him over you. His usually perfect hair was messy now, his perfect face was void of the usual laser focus expression you normally saw at work and of the arrogant smirk he liked to give you. His broad shoulders and lean torso filled your vision- you had had fun stroking your hands over his pecs, abdomens and biceps. God, you hated how perfectly hot he was.

You whined pathetically when he plunged his cock and pushed it as deep as he could into you. Seokjin dropped to his elbows, and you welcomed the new weight on top of your body. He stilled, letting his hardness rest inside you. You wrapped your legs around him and could not help but clench around his cock. He groaned against your chest at the sensations.

“Do that again, sweetheart,” he nibbled and licked your collarbone, “squeeze my cock again.”

You did as he asked, tightening your walls around him before loosening again, repeating the movements and creating your own erotic Kegel exercise around his cock. You could feel Seokjin’s breath faltering on your neck, and before long, you were careening towards your peak.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, “close.”

He remained still, even at your warning. Choosing to work his lips on your neck and up to your ear instead. Finding a spot behind your ear, he licked and nipped at it, sending shudders all over your body and suddenly pushing you to your release. Seokjin held you down as your body shook, willing himself not to come, but the way your pussy walls massaged his cock, it did him in.

You and Seokjin held each other tight as you both came. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his hips pressed harder against yours as he shot his seeds inside you. Finally groans and moans gave way to heavy breathing, and as your heart rate slowed down, sanity returned.

You opened your eyes. “God, don’t do that EVER again.” You slapped his shoulder. “I’m super ticklish there.”

Seokjin hummed, and nipped at the spot again. You yelped, but in the process you also squeezed his flaccid cock, still sheathed fully in you. “Now I know what to do when you talk too much.” He mumbled.

You tried to wriggle away from his mouth, but the more he teased your spot, the more you moaned, and the more your body became heated again. You were all ready for round two, but your stomach betrayed you, for it growled shamelessly. Seokjin’s eyes widened at the sound, and the two of you burst out laughing.

“OK, I’d better feed you before I fuck you against the window.” He pulled out of you, holding on to the spent condom on his dick. Walking to the bathroom, he gestured to the phone on the bedside table. “Whatever you order, order the same for me.”

And that was how you spent your first night with Kim Seokjin. Fucked out of your brains and eating room service food in his luxurious hotel room.

~~~

You gave Seokjin your Saturday nights whenever he was in town, which was only about three to four times a year.. You hated to admit it, but you enjoyed your time with him. It was obvious he liked your company too, and your arrangement worked out well. You both wanted sex with no strings attached. You enjoyed arguing with each other, although it felt like Seokjin lived solely to rile you up to get a reaction out of you. He said he was training you to hold your poker face better; after all, didn’t you want to be a successful attorney like him?

And that was the situation you found yourself in that evening. Seokjin kept prodding at you until your temper snapped, and you roughly pushed him to the chaise in his room. You quickly worked on his jeans and his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles, only to find his cock already hard and weeping with precum.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Making me angry turns you on so much, huh?” You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, lazily stroking it a few times before squeezing it gently at the base. Seokjin hissed, but his annoying smirk never went away.

“You can’t shut up your opponents by going down on every one of them,” he teased, his hand reached out to touch your hair but you swatted it away with your free hand, “no matter how sexy you are when you’re angry.”

You scowled as your hand continued stroking him. Keeping your eyes on his, you closed your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue lapping up his precum. Seokjin sucked in a breath.

“So what should I do then?” You asked before licking up and down his length. Seokjin threw his head back, enjoying the wetness of your tongue on his hot member.

“Hmmm… “Seokjin moaned. “Learn to control your temper better, sweetheart. You know how our kind is…”

Seokjin took a deep breath. Your tongue was still busy on his cock. It drove you nuts how addicted you were to the taste of him. “… especially to female attorneys..” Seokjin continued.

“Excuse me?!” you sat up straight, but your hand was still around his member, unconsciously squeezing it a little harder than normal.

“Ouch!” Seokjin yelped. “What are you trying to do? Pull my dick off?”

You sniggered, your grip loosened slightly as you continued to stroke him. “Tell me,” he asked, “how did your last case go? You almost lost because the opposing attorney kept throwing jabs at your gender, am I right?”

Your cheeks reddened. “How did you know about that?” you pouted.

“I get regular updates on you, sweetheart, I like to know how my protege is doing.”

You eyed him skeptically. “Wow, I’m so honored.” Your tone was flat, but your hand started pumping his cock faster. You thought back to the moment you nearly lost your temper in court, and you buried the memory deep. You leaned in and started to take Seokjin’s length into your mouth when it suddenly dawned on you.

“Wait,” Seokjin’s cock popped out of your mouth. “Is that why I didn’t get the promotion? I won that case but I didn’t get my promotion because I was too emotional?”

Seokjin groaned, in desire and in frustration. He looked down at you, kneeled between his legs, eyebrows scrunched up, eyes angry, mouth in a pout, and his hardness in the mercy of your hand. He ran a hair through his hair.

“Now that you recognise the problem, will you solve it?”

You nodded.

“So can we please continue?” He asked.

You nodded again before your mouth returned to his cock. You enveloped your lips around the head, sucking it gently and licking it until you heard him moan. You started taking more of him into your mouth, the muskiness of his scent filling your nose. His hands found your head and held it gently, his fingers carding your hair.

You continued to lubricate him with your saliva, relaxing your mouth and your throat to take all of him in. You steadied your breathing as you sucked in your cheeks, and you slowly pulled out all the way to the tip, before filling your mouth again. “That’s good sweetheart, you know just how I like it.”

You stupidly beamed at his praise, and it encouraged you to pick up your pace, sucking him faster and harder. His breathing was getting heavier, and you massaged his balls, eager for him to cum in your mouth. “No, no,” he pulled your head, and you came up gasping for breath. “I want to be in you now.”

You and Seokjin undressed immediately, and Seokjin went to the bathroom to retrieve a condom. He rolled the rubber as you positioned yourself by the window. The window felt cold on your back, but your core was wet and hot. Seokjin lifted you up effortlessly, and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck.

Seokjin spat into his hand and rubbed his saliva over your cunt. Then the blunt head of his cock was at your entry, and he pushed it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside you. Adjusting his grip, ensuring he got you secured between him and the window, he started to move. Slowly at first, and once your juices were flowing and leaking, he went faster.

You felt sweat developing on your back, making your body slippery against the glass. You dug your fingers into Seokjin’s shoulders, anchoring yourself up as he continued to pound into you. You turned your head to the side, catching the city skyline in the corner of your eye.

“God, Seokjin,” you whined wantonly, “When I get that New York position, will you fuck me like this with the New York skyline in the background?”

Seokjin huffed, his hips not missing a beat. “Sweetheart, you’ll never get the New York position.”

You snapped your head back to look at Seokjin, he was still thrusting mercilessly into you. You pulled his hair. “What do you mean I will NEVER get the New York position?”

Seokjin’s smirk was back. He pulled out slowly then he rammed himself back into you hard, making you mewl. “It means…”

He took his time thrusting into you again.

“… you will…”

Another slow and hard thrust.

“… never get…”

He was hitting the sweet spot inside you.

“… the New York position.”

You cried out at his last thrust. “Because I’m too emotional?” you asked breathlessly.

“Because… “ his mouth was inching closer to the sensitive spot on your ear, “we’re closing that office.”

You gasped, at the news and at Seokjin’s sudden change of pace. He was fucking you fast again, pressing your body harder against the window.

“Wait.. ah, Seokjin… “ you said between pants, “does that mean…”

You could not finish your question because Seokin began nibbling and sucking your ear, sending your body rigid as the pressure on your cunt was waiting to explode.

“Yeah,” Seokjin panted. “I’ll be back in Seoul for good, sweetheart.”

You threw your head back against the window as Seokjin continued pistoning into you, pushing you towards and over your climax. You wailed in pleasure as the heat enveloped you. He did not let up at the slightest, his hips kept thrusting into you ruthlessly even as you began to sob from the oversensitivity.

Seokjin wrapped his arms around you tightly to move you, and you both collapsed on the bed, his cock still secure in you. He rolled to his back, bringing you on top of him. He slapped your ass. “Can you ride me?”

You pushed yourself up with your arms, your hair curtaining Seokjin’s face. You started to move your hips back and forth as you tried to get your breathing back. The sensitivity in your sex slowly turned into pleasure once again, and you quickened your pace. Seokjin moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing the flesh and flicking the nipples as they swung before him.

“Does… does this mean you’re gonna be my boss?” You asked between moans.

“Do you want me to be your boss?” Seokjin tugged your nipples, causing your back to arch.

“You’ll scold me everyday.”

“And I’ll fuck you every Saturday.” He thrusted up to meet your hips. “You like that?”

“Fuck no…” you felt the heat returning back to your core. “I’ll just hate you even more.”

Seokjin slapped your ass. “Just admit it, sweetheart, I’m your favorite among all your other fuck toys.”

You stammered as Seokjin thrusted up again, and he took the opportunity to pull you down onto his chest. Planting his heels on the bed, he held you down as he started thrusting his hips to plunge his cock into you, fast and hard. You closed your eyes tightly and felt tears slipping down your cheeks as you came closer to your climax.

“Come on sweetheart,” Seokjin whispered in your ears, “give me one more. Milk my cock.”

You cried out as your body jolted and shook. Seokjin kept holding you down, chasing his own release too. His thrusting became more messy, and he finally came too, swearing and groaning loudly.

You stayed still on top of Seokjin, your heart beating out of your chest, and so was his. You both lay on the bed, bodies sticky with sweat, waiting for the haze of your orgasms to pass.

“If you become my boss,” you whispered, “I want no special treatment.”

“Of course not, sweetheart. The only special treatment you get is I feed you after sex.”

You chuckled. “Speaking of…”

Seokjin rolled you over and pulled himself out. “Yeah yeah, order whatever you want.”

~~~

Today

Seokjin walks into your room. You barely glance up, used to him barging in whenever he likes.

“So, Yuna told me there’s a tall drink of water waiting for you in the lobby.” He plopped down on the little settee in your office. “So naturally I went to see. And you’d better get there before Yuna devours him.”

You glance at your watch. It’s ten minutes to 7pm. You smile softly, leave it to your boyfriend to arrive early. “He’s my boyfriend. I told you about him.”

Seokjin ahs. “So, that’s the man who took away my Saturday night fun.”

You glare at him as you tidy up your desk. “Yeah well, he feeds me AND reads me poetry after sex. So, sorry.”

Seokjin stands up as you ready yourself to leave.

“Besides, now we play Maple Story every Saturday, surely that’s more fun?” You tease him. He chuckles and rubs his chin. He accompanies you walking down the hallway towards the lobby.

Before you arrive at the glass door separating the inner office from the reception area, you turn to Seokjin and ask, “Do you want to meet him?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment. “Does he know about our history?”

“He knows MY history, but I never share any names with him.” you explain. “He only knows you as my asshole boss.”

“Now I am offended. I thought I was a nice boss!”

“Well, I rant about you too much maybe. But he doesn’t mind, because you know what happens when I get riled up.” You wink.

Seokjin laughs. “What a lucky bastard. OK, come on, introduce your asshole boss to your boyfriend.”

Published 01022021

#thebtswritersclub #noonasinnetwork #thetruthuntoldnet #purplearmynet #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #seokjin x oc #littleblackbook

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beyoncesdragon · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨

idk what genre that is, Yuta x Reader

yeah so Yuta is a scorpio for everyone who's living under a rock and I wrote this after Gimme Gimme came out. so thats just 1k words of me coping, basically

warnings: its definitely feeding into the whole Badboy!Yuta trope, he's perhaps a bit of a man-whore, not to mention a literal piece of shit, swearing, mentioning of nature themes including taking someone to Hong Kong :)

enjoy lmao

Yuta Nakamoto was your dirty little secret. Which was funny, because he himself wasn’t a secret at all. He was known (and feared, even) he was looked up and down on, his name was probably a sensitive topic in multiple relationships and he had successfully built up his reputation as a person not to be fucked with. You could like him or you couldn’t, but either way you lived more comfortable just not getting in his way.

Yuta was chaos and Yuta was trouble, he was bad news, detention, whispering in the back of the classroom and interrupting classes by coming late with a cocky smirk and followed by a dishevelled looking girl, buttons not closed properly in a hurry, he was blushing boys struggling to keep their composure, short; he was absolutely no good.

You had sworn never to be one of them, but Yuta had never been one to care much about what other wanted or desired. Not unless it involved him, not unless he could make use of that somehow.

And he disliked your boyfriend.

“He’s nice, yes.” Yuta’s lips twitched amused.

“Yeah?” you narrowed your eyes at him filled with the weird desire to prove it to him.

“Yeah. He took me on a trip recently.” Yuta’s smirk sharpened at your words, eyes glinting dangerously.

“A trip you say? Where to?” you didn’t trust him. Not one bit did you believe that Yuta Nakamoto was just generally interested in your dating life, even less the location of a goddamn date he didn’t even attend.

“Oh not far, just the next little –“

“Yeah I assumed that it couldn’t be Hong Kong, sweetheart.” Your eyes shot up to meet his, in anger about his blasé and arrogant manner and then widened. The double sense of his words managed to drive up heat into your cheeks, embarrassment and shame mixing with the feeling of offense you took for your partner.

Yuta was absolutely shameless.

He clicked with his tongue impatiently before falling back against the wall.

“Funny how you’re not even defending him. Poor boy must really suck then, it’s a shame.” You opened your mouth to protest but he just clicked with his tongue again.

“Ah it’s too late now, baby. I could teach him, you know? I do the work and he watches.” The verbal response you intended on firing at him died in your throat. Your head felt as if it would explode with anger and there was a throbbing pain pulsating behind your temples.

Was it bad that the idea didn’t even sound that bad? Yes, yes it was. Especially because you knew how good Yuta actually was.

You blinked the memory away and rose your hand in a weak attempt to whack his arm but Yuta was quick to catch your wrist and sabotage your attempt.

“No need to disguise your thoughts with violent actions here, I’m shocked.” He teased with a laugh in his voice before he let go of your hand and settled his eyes on someone approaching behind you.

“Jiwon.” He greeted with a sly fake smile, nothing but mockery in his voice. “Yuta.” Jiwon replied, but there was a question in his voice, maybe a bit of fear. Hesitatingly he reached out for your hand which you happily offered.

“You come to watch now…?” Jiwon asked with an uneasy smile, motioning for you to follow him, away from Yuta and towards the neatly made football pitch.

“Yeah sure…” before you could say anything more, Jiwon had pulled you towards him to plant a hasty (admittedly a bit too wet) kiss on your lips before running off, leaving it to you to follow him. On the way one of his teammates passed him the ball and he took the time to stop it, place it and then centre the ball towards the goal. Yuta chuckled softly.

“Not the only place where his game is weak, huh?” You scoffed angrily, throwing him a dirty glare. “And how would you know?”

“I used to play.”

“Oh really.”

Yuta calmly let his gaze sway from the ball down to you, an amused twinkle mocking you before he even opened his mouth.

“Yes really. For eleven years babygirl. And this centre was weak.” You didn’t know what to respond to that so you just stayed quiet, lips pressed together in a thin line. Damn he was infuriating.

“Y/N!”

“Coming!” You gave Yuta a last look, surprised when he also pushed himself off the wall, approaching you with a few steps. “Next time…try not to choke on his tongue.” he chuckled into your ear before strolling away towards his motorbike, hands in his pockets, a confident bounce to his step.

“What was that?” Jiwon asked with raised eyebrows when you finally reached the pitch. You just shrugged, eyes wandering back to where Yuta had headed. He was still here, leaned against his motorcycle, surrounded by a bunch of his friends.

You watched his lips curl up into a small laugh when Taeyong, one of his closest friends, arguably, whispered something in his ear. He shook his head quickly before pointing at something on his arm. You had no idea what they were talking about, yet Yuta’s livid way of gesturing out his words made it seem like you didn’t even had to stand closer to be part of it.

He looked up surprisingly and his eyes met yours before you could look away. He froze momentarily, soft surprise washing over his pretty features. Then, slowly at first, a tiny, dirty and self-satisfied grin settled on his lips, right before he mockingly bowed his head at you.

Yuta got under your skin, again, if you liked it or not.

And he noticed, of course. This devil.

✰- nct127 masterlist

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

dom!jongho

word count: 6k

smut

request: @songsoomin

you had nothing but nice things to say about your neighbors across the hall. the three boys, yunho, san and wooyoung, were just about the happiest people you had ever met.

they had welcomed you with open arms, brought over wine and brownies and filled you in on all of the gossip and best places to eat. it's when you first heard about your next door neighbor, the one you still have yet to see a month into moving in.

but, oh, do you hear him.

hear the distinct, obvious noise of a headboard smacking against the wall and the loud, dramatic moans of "oh, jongho!" being cried out. and the first time you hadn't thought much of it, even thought 'good for him, at least someone's getting laid.'

but after the fifth consecutive night of hearing it, the pitches and tones sounding very much like different voices, you were convinced he was a scumbag.

"a scumbag?" wooyoung says, refilling your glass of wine even though you're already far too tipsy. "ouch, y/n."

"oh c'mon," you slur, "i've been here for a month and i've heard his escapades more nights than i haven't."

"but a man has needs," san pouts, stretching out on your floor as all the alcohol hits him at once.

"and a girl needs sleep!" you squeal, "i haven't even seen the fuckers face but i already know far too much about how big his-"

"oh, my god, no!" yunho yelps, throwing his hands out in front of him. "y/n, please spare us. we actually have to hang out with him and look him in the face."

they had told you all about their monthly dinners, each of them cooking a dish and swapping which apartment hosts. they had invited you to the next one that first day they met you and you had agreed; but now, after hearing all you've heard and already disliking someone you've never met, you're having some hesitations.

"so will she because she's coming tomorrow," wooyoung whines, your eyes narrowing at the boy as you shake your head.

"no. nope. no chance," you insist, throwing your wine back in a very impolite fashion. "i refuse to look at that man whore."

"hey! we don't slut-shame in this house!"

you can only roll your eyes at san's words, knowing damn well if the circumstances were reversed, a group of men would have a whole lot to say about a woman having a different person at her house every night.

and it wasn't even the fact that he was having loud, obnoxious sex with different people (okay, maybe it was a little bit). but it was more about the fact that these women might be walking in with the assumption that he was gonna wake them with breakfast and treat them dignity and respect. not replace her with a different face just twelve hours later so he can hear the same shit over and over again.

because it's shit you hear over and over again and you decide that when you finally do meet him, you're gonna give him a piece of your mind.

that day doesn't come until a few weeks later, purposely going out to dinner with your coworkers so you miss the neighborly dinner party that wooyoung was sure to text you angrily about.

you come barreling through your apartment complex from the rain, running toward the open elevator as your umbrella drips onto the floor. "wait! hold it, please!" you squeal, desperate to just flop on to your couch and never get up again.

but the elevator door just slams in your face, quickly catching the sight of a stocky man in a brown leather jacket with black hair. you let out a frustrated groan, cursing at him under your breath before clicking the up button impatiently.

it's when you make your way up to your floor five minutes later that you see the familiar brown leather, his figure standing in front of the apartment door next to yours and you can't help but let out a laugh.

of fucking course that would be him.

you stomp toward your apartment, having every intention to continue ignoring him until you hear his deep voice greet you.

"oh, hey. you must be the new neighbor," he says politely, looking up from the piece of mail he was reading. "i don't believe we've met yet. i'm-"

"jongho," you interrupt, craning your neck to the side to look him up and down. "yeah, i know. i've heard it far too much."

the smirk that crosses his face fills you with rage for multiple reasons, one being that he just looks so smug and cocky and pleased with himself, a confidence that probably lands him so many prospects in the first place. but it's also because even though you really, truly hate to admit it, he's annoyingly handsome.

"oh? did the boys tell you about me?" he quips, the look on his face the biggest indication he knows damn well that's not what you meant. you can only scoff at him, watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"the boys?" you ask, tone feigning sweetness, "try girls. many girls. the walls aren't thin you know."

oh, i know," he says, smirking at how riled up you already are. and it's due to that very fact he can't help but add on, "because i hear nothing coming from your end."

your eyebrow shoots up at his comment, feeling anger and irritation flood through you at the relaxed way he leans against his door and smirks at you.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"just that maybe you need to get some too, huh?" he says, tone sarcastic and playful. "is that why you're coming off so bitter, princess?"

"bitter?" you laugh out humorlessly, princess? is this guy fucking serious? you take a step closer to him and narrowing your eyes at him, "maybe try exhausted or appalled or disgusted! i've had to hear your escapades for weeks."

"is that really what this is about?" he quips, mimicking your actions and taking a step closer to you. "maybe you're just curious or dare i say....jealous? about my action and your...lack thereof."

and it's at that moment you can not believe he is a real person. how a real, living breathing person could be this dense and arrogant and repulsive to a person they just met (while completely ignoring the fact that you're being this judgmental and rude to a person you've just met).

"you're a sicko, a literal sicko," you spit out.

your comments only make his smirk grow larger, turning his head to the side before his eyes roam your figure. "i mean, if you wanna have an escapade of your own, if you apologize, i wouldn't be opposed to-"

"goodbye jongho," you say, taking out your key as you roll your eyes. "i wish i could say it was a pleasure meeting you."

"oh c'mon, don't be like that," he whines, his eyes twinkling at you in a way that would usually have you hook, line and sinker.

"how about you start being mindful of your neighbors?" you snap, opening your door and stepping inside before turning around to get in one last petty farewell. "because if i have to hear one more woman ask you if you're in yet, i'm gonna lose my mind."

"so... i heard you finally met jongho," yunho says on your nightly walk a few days later.

"ha, oh did i," you spit out sarcastically, remembering how irritated and frustrated that arrogant asshole had made you. "just as big a dick as i expected."

yunho has to bite his lip to he doesn't smirk or laugh, simply raising an eyebrow at you. "what?" you ask, catching the look on his face.

"nothing," he says, throwing his arms up in defense. "i just think...i mean, he's not that bad."

"different girls every night?!" you squeal, "oh, c'mon yunho. and you know what, it's not even about that. it's the fact that i hear every single thing, at all hours of the night. like last night, it kept me up till three a.m."

"okay, that is a bit inconsiderate," yunho agrees, not saying that, now, the boy is probably just doing it on purpose to get a rise out of you. because he knows jongho well and knows that any strong response like the one you give just serves as a way to interest the boy. makes him see just how far he could push someone until they really crack.

"so inconsiderate," you whine, a frown making its way on your face. "it's stressing me out, even, working on like four hours of sleep."

and any time yunho, wooyoung or san hear the words 'stressed out,' it immediately calls for a night of dancing and overpriced cocktails. you were hesitant at first, walking into the crowded bar that friday with an already tipsy san and wooyoung.

but once you got down a few drinks yourself, you were right there with them. dancing on them and doing shots and singing so loudly you knew you'd have that telltale, hoarse party girl voice the next day. but it was so worth it because right now, you were having so much fun.

forgetting all about your work obligations and thesis due in a few weeks, forgetting all about the frustration you've gathered from being single for almost a year and how you're kindly reminded every night you haven't gotten laid since then.

so maybe that's why you agreed to give the guy who bought you a drink your phone number, placing a peck on his lips before yunho works to grab you, wooyoung and san out of the bar.

"you guys are so annoying, we're never doing this again," yunho grumbled on the walk back to the apartment. because that's the only way to feel as he watches san almost get hit by a car three times, wooyoung screaming "hello!" into every open establishment and you asking him one hundred times if he thought it was okay and safe to give that guy your number.

but then once wooyoung and san start projectile vomiting all over the streets, you decide to give yunho a helping hand. you wrap san's arm around your neck, wooyoung's around yunho, and carry the boy's up the elevator and into their apartment. both of the boys promptly pass out on the floor and yunho waves it off, insisting they'll be fine and that'll he be sleeping on the couch in fear that they'll choke on their vomit.

"you're a good friend, yunho," you laugh out, hiccuping the last part of his name. "thank you for this. it-it was so much fun." and the boy can only softly smiling, placing a friendly kiss on your cheek and insisting you'll do it again after he discusses with a few selected few how to act properly.

you giggle as you stumbled toward your own apartment, your head turning to the side when you hear the ding of the elevator. your eyes widen when you see jongho come out, alone, and you can't help the way your hands start slowly clapping.

"wow," you say, "do-do my eyes deceive me? are you actually going into your apartment alone?"

that stupid, arrogant, obnoxiously handsome smirk is on his face immediately, shamelessly looking over your tight jeans and lace shirt. "you went out like that and you're going home alone?" he asks, resting his head on his door. "what was wrong with the men there?"

"if you could believe it, they had a conversation with me. got to know me and just talked. you know, like a decent human being."

he bites his lip to contain his smile, crossing his (large, muscular, exquisite) arms across his chest. "what, because i like to fuck i'm not a decent human being?"

"because you like to fuck in an abundance," you tell him, walking forward and standing in front of him. "and because the porn-like moans keep me up all damn night!"

"now, if you could believe it, those aren't my moans," he says teasingly, liking the way your finger feels on his broad chest. "so i don't know why you're yelling at me in the first place."

"because you're the one making it happen!" you squeal, "if i have to hear 'ugh, harder jongho!' one more time, i'm gonna shoot myself in the face."

he licks over his lips, resisting the urge to laugh at how perfectly you intimidated a fucked out, whiney voice. and something about it causes him to step closer to you, just a few inches of space keeping your fronts from touching.

"what if it's your own voice?" he asks lowly, his words teasing but eyes serious. "would you mind that?" his eyes roam over your outfit again, the curve of your hips and the slight silver of skin itching to have his hand on it. "because i still think that's what this is all about."

you swallow the lump in your throat, amazed and a bit embarrassed by how quickly he's humbled you. but it's the voice, the proximity, his eyes on top of the fact that, yeah okay maybe it's a little bit about that. but who can blame you? it's been far too long of the sad hum of your vibrator and muffled moans in your own hand filling your bedroom.

"i think you're an asshole," you weakly spit out, still trying to keep some of the resolve. but he sees through it, smirking as he allows his hand to touch your warm skin and push you slightly so your back connects with the wall.

"asshole or not, i'm free tonight and you're free tonight," he hums lowly in your ear, his finger tracing your skin tantalizing slow and causing sparks to shoot through you. "isn't that right?"

you swallow again, your arms hanging dumbly at your sides even though they should be pushing him right off of you. but you can only meet his gaze and feel yourself tremble, his eyes dark and teasing and boring right into you.

"i..." you can only stutter, looking from his face to his hand resting on your apartment door. you bite your lip at the sight of it, large and strong and you can only imagine what kind of damage it does. is that what keeps them screaming all night, his fingers toying at their clit or pushing into their-

but then suddenly both your hands are pinned above your head, a gasp leaving your mouth as warmth pools in your stomach. because you were right, they are very strong hands.

"you what?" he hums lowly, his tongue swiping his lip cockily as he takes in your expression. "that shut you up real quick, didn't it?"

you lick at your lips, narrowing your eyes at him which leads him to tighten his hold on you. you hate the whimper that leaves your mouth, feeling so small and defenseless under his touch. "so what, are we gonna do this this right out here?" he asks.

"we're not...gonna do anything," you sigh out breathily, looking from his eyes to the elevator. but he's quick to take the hand on your waist to your jaw, turning your head so you can look right at him.

you don't like this, you really don't.

actually you like this too much.

because his hand is far too close to your neck and if he wraps his hand around it, you'll be done. you'll probably beg for him and embarrass yourself and maybe even come untouched, who's to know really.

"oh no?" he hums, teasing and superiority in his tone. and then he starts doing just what you didn't want, moving down your neck and squeezing at the sides every so slightly. he doesn't miss the way your breath quickens, how your eyes close and you tip your head back further.

"you like this?" he says lowly, "you like my hand around your pretty little throat?" you whimper again, all the pent up frustration and desire hitting you at once.

anyone who says a cold shower is the best way to sober you up clearly doesn't know anything. all you need is a years worth of being sexual deprived and an obnoxious neighbor with strong hands and a high libido. because you feel completely coherent and aware, aware of the how fast wetness is pooling in your underwear and how your mind is flooding with all the things you want him to do to you.

"where else do you want my hand?"

your eyes fly open and now it's his turn for lust to creep on him, the glossy, heated, wide-eyed look you give him all he needs to suppress a low growl in the back of his throat. to move his hand down your cleavage and mumble "here?"

but when you shake your head, he only smirks, giving each breast a squeeze before trailing it down your stomach and right above the waistband of your jeans. "here?"

you feel like you're about to pass out now, your legs wobbly and breath so ragged and shaky. "touch me, please," you whisper, hating how fast he's made you desperate and pathetic. but you don't hate it enough to not give in, wanting and needing his hand between your legs.

"just because you said please," he says and then he's rubbing you over your jeans. you spread your legs out even more, crying out quietly when you feel him graze over your most sensitive spot. you feel how wet your underwear is becoming, wishing he would just stick his hand down there and give you what you want.

"j-jongho," you whine out, head lolling to the side as you look up at him.

"what do you want?" he hums, his hand instinctually tightening on your red wrists. "you want me to feel how wet you are?"

you can only nod your head quickly, thinking that maybe perhaps he can read your mind but not really caring at this point, because then he's zipping down your pants and sticking his hand in your soaked thong.

"shit," he grunts out, his profanity drowned out by the whine leaving your mouth. "i knew you were just frustrated. that's what it was, right?" but you refuse to answer, just focusing on the way his fingers are flicking at your throbbing clit. his fingers are so skilled and long, sparks of pleasure shooting right through you.

but that doesn't do for him. which is why he suddenly sticks a finger in your wet entrance making you cry out. "right?" he growls. "i'll leave you here dripping if you don't answer me."

"yes," you whine immediately. "i...want that."

"want what?" he asks, sticking a second finger in as some type of reward. which is why you speak again, whine out that you want someone to fuck you and make you scream.

"i offered," he said lowly, his finger quickly circling your clit. "but you were such a judgmental, self-righteous little-"

the ding of the elevator immediately brings you both back to reality, that you're both still very much in the hallway of your apartment complex. he immediately rips his hand out of your pants, dropping his hold on you and covering your body with his.

"zip them up."

and just like the past few minutes, you do as your told. the couple coming out of the elevator pass you with a polite hello, the flush on your face and the tent in jongho's pants leaving little to the imagination. but then they disappear around the corner, both of you huffing out a sigh of relief.

"shit, that was close," he says lowly, looking at your face to see you staring right at him. "what?"

"that was...."

he's expecting to hear the words 'amazing' or 'just what i needed' or 'not enough, come inside so we can finish.'

"a mistake."

his eyebrow raises at your words, looking over your flushed face and messy hair and knowing you're just saying that to safe face. because since the second you met, the tension was so palpable with sexual undertones and hidden desires.

"bullshit."

you roll your eyes despite the throbbing wetness between your thighs. "i'm serious," you tell him, pushing past him as you go to unlock your door. "this never happened."

"y/n, don't be so-"

but then the door slams in his face again.

the same way wooyoung slams it two weeks later, calling you innocently and telling you he wants to try out a new outfit for you. "i don't have any professional clothes so i want you to see if it's okay," he had said.

but then the second he walked in, in his normal attire and a determined look in his eye, you knew you fucked up.

"family dinner. jongho's. now. you're coming."

"wooyoung!" you whined, "you're such a dirty liar! that's not fair."

"i don't care," the boy said, running over and grabbing your hand in his. "you ditched last month and i won't stand for it any longer."

"let me at least-"

but you're dragged out of your safe, quiet home, clad in slippers and pajama shorts, before he barges in to the unlocked apartment next door. playful arguing and loud noises from a video game could be heard from the couch, the distinct whine of san's loud voice causing you to smile despite being dragged her against your will.

"look who i got!" wooyoung says chipperly, three heads snapping back to look at you with different expressions. yunho looks apologetic, eyes soft with sympathy as he mouths "sorry." san is overjoyed and clapping, bouncing his way over to you to wrap you in a hug and tell you about the game.

and jongho. the look in his eyes scares you as much as it arouses you.

because ever since the hallway incident, you haven't seen him. you listen carefully outside for the sound of his door opening or the elevator dinging, walking quickly and quietly anytime you go out for the day.

and now, it's like he's warning you just to wait. that ignoring him was the worst thing you could've done and now he's gonna show you your actions have consequences.

and about an hour into dinner, he does just that.

it started subtly at first, snide little looks and chuckles as you watched him and the boys play. but then when you were in the kitchen checking on the dinner, you felt his looming presence.

you acted as if he wasn't there, bending down to check the food in the oven before closing it with a quiet hum. and then before you knew it, his body was pressed right into yours from behind.

"finally done hiding?" he mumbled lowly in your ear. your breath hitches in your throat, his front pressed right into your ass as his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

"what do you mean?" you ask, attempting to sound strong and unbothered. "i wasn't hiding."

a short chuckle leaves his mouth, hands falling to your waist before he cranes his neck back to see if the boys are watching you guys; but their eyes on trained on the tv, deep in an competitive state.

"were you embarrassed that i heard you?" he hummed, causing your entire body to still.

because after you slammed the door in his face, you really tried to ignore the burn between your legs. you had done everything possible, distracted yourself with tv and schoolwork and even a cold shower; but the second you laid in your bed, you found yourself rummaging through your bedside table and desperately switching on the highest setting.

found yourself wondering if jongho had been on the other side of the wall doing the same thing, relieving himself after trying so desperately to push the feelings and arousal away.

thats what caused the first loud moan to leave your mouth, thoughts of him and the incessant vibrations against your clit. and then the whines and little noises leaving you just continued, not even trying to cover them because it's about time he gets a taste of his own medicine back.

"or did you want me to hear you?" he asks, growling lowly in your ear. "i don't know the last time i had to get off to my own hand."

"i don't know who told you to do that," you say sarcastically, the bratty side of you coming out and causing him to chuckle lowly. and you didn't realize that that was a chuckle that meant 'you're gonna regret that.'

but, really, you should've known you got let off the hook too easily. that his finger rubbing a few circles into your warm skin wasn't nearly enough of a punishment for your sassy comment. that he guided you over to the table by the small of your back and told you to sit too innocently.

and now, in the middle of dinner, you feel his hand on your knee and creeping up towards your thigh. you look over at him warily, the boys deep in a heavy debate about boxers versus briefs.

"what are you doing?" you whispered to him, half tempted to jab your fork into his leg at the lust starting to build in your veins.

"what do you think?" he says through clenched teeth, his strong hand cupping your thigh and causing a breathy exhale to leave your mouth. it's so tight and high on your thigh that you can't help but squirm, feeling especially on edge since they're are three people literally right in front of you.

"if you're really thinking about fingering me under this table, i'm gonna-"

and like he's trying to continually prove to you his sole purpose is to piss you off, his hand slips through your shorts and slowly rubs you over your wet thong. "just playing a little" he says lowly into your ear. "but you're not coming. and you're not allowed to pull that shit again in your room. do you hear me?"

"i don't think you're in any position to-"

his hand is quick to push right into your underwear and cup you, his finger rapidly flicking at your clit and a moan leaves your mouth that you cover with multiple coughs.

"you good, y/n?" he asks innocently next to you, the three boys turning to check as well. you side-eye him in disgust, how he sounds so calm and composed despite the shit he's doing to you right now.

"fine," you grunt out breathily, san raising an eyebrow before wooyoung's loud voice screeches at him. and then again, loud outbursts and conversations are back and successfully drown out the shaky breaths and low hums leaving you.

your legs start to spread wider as pleasure builds between your legs, your hand absentmindedly reaching over to palm him.

"no," he growls in your ear, "don't even fucking try it."

and because he's brought you to this pathetic, submissive side, you pout as you pull your hand.

"are you close?" he asks, his finger sliding inside you nearly making your head loll to the side. "are my fingers fucking you well?" but he knows they are, knows you're close and knows just how to curl them and play with your clit to have your legs shaking and pussy clenching around him.

"next time you wanna pull that shit, remember this," he growls, ripping his hand from you suddenly and successfully depriving you of the orgasm that was deliciously building. you almost cry out in frustration, about ready to beg and plead and do whatever he wants to make you come.

but then he gets up to start clearing the plates and washing the dishes, his teasing eyes watching you for the rest of the night; the blush on your cheeks and the frustration in your eyes never fails to make him smirk. and then when you leave later that night, he whispers one more warning to behave in your ear.

"why should i?" you growl, irritated and beyond frustrated at the wet ache between your legs.

"because i said so," he tells you, lifting your chin with his hand. "the next time you come, it's gonna be me doing it."

and it's with that comment right there that makes him step out of his apartment a few nights later. because around 1:00 a.m., he hears the familiar jingling of your keys in the hallway and your softly spoken voice asking a person to leave.

"c'mon, babe, i walked you home," the male voice says, "the least you could do-"

he doesn't hear the rest, ripping open his door and peeking out at you two. he can tell immediately you're uncomfortable, if the plain fear and disgust in your eyes wasn't obvious enough.

"the least she could do is what?" jongho asks lowly, stepping towards the guy and staring at him challengingly. "she doesn't owe you shit."

"who the fuck are you?" the guy asks, voice dripping with hostility. "mind your business."

jongho's fists clench, tension overcoming him and about ready to punch this guy square in the face. because if there's one thing he hates more than men like this, it's people telling him to mind their own business when they're doing something wrong.

"i don't think she wants you here," is all jongho says, cooly, calmly, a complete contrast to how he's really feeling. "so how 'bout you leave now?"

the guy only lifts his brow, sensing something slightly unhinged and dangerous in jongho's tone and gaze. in the way he crossed his arms over his chest and is clenching his hands into a fist.

"whatever," he mumbles, throwing you one last dirty look before stalking off toward the elevator. you and jongho don't speak until you hear the doors close, just looking at one another with a mix of heat, curiosity and gratefulness.

"thanks," you mumble lowly, "i gave him my number a few weeks ago and he happened to see me when i was walking home."

"careful," jongho mumbles, "he's a fuckin' creep."

a small chuckle leaves your mouth as you nod your head, your tongue coming out to lick your lips nervously. you hadn't seen or talked to him since he fingered you under his dining room table, deprived you of your orgasm and then said you weren't allowed to...relieve yourself.

so, yeah, there's a bit of the elephant in the room.

"apparently so," you say, smiling softly as you look at him. the tension between you is palpable, long heated gazes and slightly shaky breaths. the wall behind you a reminder of the first time all of this started. his arms crossed over his chest with clenched hands is a reminder of what exactly they can do, the way your legs are nearly wobbling from how badly the ache has been between them.

"did you eat yet?" you find yourself asking. it's quick and awkward and blurted out so randomly, you think you might've as well said hey, let's go inside so we can finally fuck.

and even though the smirk on his face says he knows it too, he doesn't say anything but "no, i haven't eaten yet."

"i was gonna order chinese," you tell him, "do you wanna...come in and i'll buy you some? as a thank you?" he nods his head silently and you smile back, turning around to unlock your apartment. but then the second you open your door, he pushes you inside and quickly follows you in. he closes the door behind you and promptly pushes you up against it.

"buy me dinner as a thank you?" he says teasingly, "that's the best you could think of?"

your cheeks flush at getting caught but you're somewhat beyond the point of even caring. because even if you wanted to get off, it wouldn't be the same. after feeling his strong hands and hearing his low teasing voice, nothing else will leave you feeling fulfilled.

"why not just tell me straight up you want me to get you off?"

"i want you to get me off," you snap, boldly and confidently despite the way you're trapped up against the door. "happy now?"

the smirk on his face widens, his hand trailing down the curves of your body slowly and teasingly. it makes your sensitive, heightened self tingle and burn, a whine threatening to leave your mouth.

"depends," he hums, "were you good? i didn't hear anything but that doesn't mean you weren't sneaky." his hands trails over your thigh and between your legs and you don't know which one of you is more grateful that you're wearing a dress.

because while it allows him easy access, it also allows him to feel just how ready and wet you are. your thighs and thong already soaked from days of being pathetically aroused.

"you didn't, did you?" he asks with a smirk, shoving your underwear down and dress up when you whine out a shaky "i didn't."

"i can tell," he says, dropping to his knees as he bunches up your dress. "hold this," his voice deeply commands, his own arousal and lust taking over now. because now he's face to face with your dripping pussy and can basically smell the desperation on you. all because you waited and listened to him.

and then you nearly scream when his hands push down on your hips and his mouth connects with your clit. you moan out over and over as he licks and sucks and eats you out like a starved man, your legs shaking and threatening to collapse had it not been for his tight hold on you.

your one hand is holding your dress while the other is in his hair, tugging and pulling and moving him closer into you as your back is pressed hard against your door. and then, like all of that wasn't enough, you look down at him and find yourself begging him to fuck you.

he stops immediately, pulling his face back and looking up at you. your eyes are dark with lust and arousal, cheeks red and hair a mess from begin pressed against the metal.

"you sure?" he asks, his own excitement brewing in him. he only planned on making you come over and over, with his tongue and fingers and then relieving himself by his own hand again later that night.

but now as you beg "yes please," he's jumping up to tug off his pants and boxers before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. and that's how you end up christening your apartment door, his cock pounding in and out of you as your body knocks into the door.

"isn't this what you wanted?" he growled in your ear, "this whole time you just wanted to be fucked like the good girl you are."

and when you moan out his name again and again, you're not able to see the irony of this all. how for months you've berated this man and gave him shit about keeping the neighbors up.

"i knew it! i fucking knew it!" wooyoung says from his apartment, hearing your muffled screams and yelps of jongho's name. "i can't wait to tell her how inconsiderate she's being."

#jongho #jongho smut #jongho ateez #jongo moodboard #ateez #ateez smut #request

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littlenekosfan · 3 years

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Since no one else asked... Do the boys for the ask meme too uwu There is never too much Bazz and Jugram <3

oh BOY we are here for a fun ride :)

1. Favorite thing about them

that is a rather complicated question since it's so open... hm, lets go about what i like about their character

bazz, his passion, i love that fire he has in his heart, so bright you can see it shine in his eyes, in everything he does.. passionate people are the ones i love to hear the most about, their engagement and enthusiasm always inspires me even if i dont relate, you can tell im a person of love haha, its my most important value and he has no shame in showing that, he always smiles and have that confidence, and still feel like a relatable character, down to earth, and i really love that

jugram is a little harder to love given his... cold persona (no being hot wont count here) but there is something that makes me fall for him and its his unconditional love... he isnt really open about the concept of love, and he very much has his own interpretation of it, where he keeps hiding what it truly holds even to himself... while i dont like how he denies it, he never killed it, he never killed that flame in his heart even if it means it would hurt him in the future... his love for bazz is just beautiful to me, to love someone for all the goods and bad, from the past to the future, to love even if the ideas dont collide with yours... he cant let go bc he genuinely feels love, and im glad he kept it and accepted it despite it all

was that too fanon or vague ?? im probably talking to myself or i talk as if the person heard all my interpretation of these two... very specific, so i dont blame you if you dont get it

tbh there is so much to love, their story, their personality, their contrast, their relationship, their struggles etc etc, its just, SO much and its all so good..

2. Least favorite thing about them

ahh, i always try to see "what went wrong" with these two... while there is a lot of mistake there and there, which are human or misunderstandings, there is one thing that... kind of upsets me, its this

i know what you're going to say, naki you're not supposed to take it literally, but i think it is... the more i read it, the more it makes sense with how they acted in their separation, but has humans, its so.. out of touch... like, oh yeah, never talk about your traumas/struggles/feelings with your partner bc we understood eachother??? bro you've only known eachother for 6months and yall arent even adults....... no way they never talked about that but also, if they had, they wouldnt have had that break up....... anyways, what im saying is, its unrealistic and it actually irks me.........

3. Favorite line

"Don’t worry about what the grown-ups tell you, I’ll teach you everything you need to know, We're gonna become the strongest Quincies, Jugo"

"Ishida Uryu... you should go save your friends..."

both can get my crying in the club... the first one bc it touches me personally, and the second bc... juazz feelings

4. brOTP

jugram: lille, askin, his aide (also aizen ???)

bazz: haha.... who even wants to be friend with him, actually i want to... askin.

bonus with juazz+ichiishi !!!!!! i love that combination sm

5. OTP

ill just list my ships with involving: juazz, juazzbert, jubert, hubazz, baskin

6. nOTP

juhasch....... and lowkey bazzren/jugishi

7. Random HC

well... how about one headcanon of them by age slice

as kids, bazz was jugram's sunshine, too bright sometimes haha, jugram had to take a lot of time to adjust to bazz' energy bc while being cocky and.. arrogant, he's very nice, and he can see that, sometimes it would wear him off since he's not that great, but bazz is too good of an observer, he would quickly notice it and cheer jugram up.. a little hard duo, but they are both trying their best

as teens, they say they are stuck in the forest training but that would require a nice little house wouldnt it? minimum furniture since it's too hard to get some (ahem, sleeping in the same bed for some heat nyehe) but also, that's basically a domestic au lmao but yeah, cooking, doing laundy, bathing.... all stuff together :) i like the idea of bazz being the only one being able to read and jugram learns from him? he takes so much interest that he keeps a journal about their journey or discoveries... bazz too, but not as much... he's too busy being disliked by the neighbor city jfghdfg

young adults/prewar. oh... oh boy, that one i actually need to dev about it with scenarios and my personal hcs but ill go with a ns//fw bc why not :) while they dont talk nor get along well.. like, at all, that doesnt stop them from being... touchy, it wouldnt romantic or anything "reciprocal" (as in, its more selfish/out of impulse then doing *with* the other) but there is def some yearning... lots LOTS of it.. they would kinda regret doing it bc its not right, but they just cant help it...

post war, this one can be very very open and wide, but rebuilding what was lost brings some reconciliation... not fully, but the gap is less... awkward, so they can now talk to eachother without that weird tension, bazz would love teasing jugram but it would always end up falling on his own head fjghdfg,.. there is some up and downs during that time ofc, but no tension like it used to be, they would have some casual talks... too casual that askin can easily pick up how they have history fgjkkfgh

i actually have a lot of hc, such as their physical appearance, their little perks and ofc, their angst... its hard to dev when im just given one random hc fgmjdfg i either end up with scenarios or interpretation rip legit i can make a post of the same length about their hair.. THEIR HAIR.....help

8. Unpopular opinion

i have no shame to blame the very badly received ending of bleach to juazz unpopularity... also ppl considering them as villains, for some reason, yet arrancars gets lots of love and attention but not ritters?? maybe bc of the anime but still?? most ppl in the fandom read tybw now...... sigh..... also, if you dont think romance is possible between them, ill call you homophobe on sight (idm ppl who prefers it platonic, but if you think it "ruins" their relationship, you are so off the grid pal)

also, they are one of the best written characters in the whole series but nobody wants to dig as far as i did.......

and very very hot take but..... you cant have jugram or bazz as a fav if you dislike the other, not sorry

9. Favorite picture of them

and of course

#jugram haschwalth #bazz b #believe it or not. i got interrupted while writing this bc i could hear my cat chasing a rabbit so i ran outside half dressed at 4am...#she's such a bitch #AND NOW ITS 5AM AND I STILL WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM........#it was a nice ask tho. i really enjoyed it hehe #ty sm ivy <333 #please if im not clear or want more dev about something. just dm fgjhdfg #i easily digress or mention things i feel like ppl already know about when they dont.........#oh well #shut up naki

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sparkletom · 4 years

Text

DIRTY DANCING | CHAPTER 1 | TOM HOLLAND FANFICTION

MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: As the day of the screen test rolls around Y/N is anxious to play opposite her screen partner who aggravates her in every way possible. With a studio full of a hopeful camera crew, investors and a keen director, the pressure is on for her and Tom to nail their only chance at signing the deal on their dream role in Hollywood.

PAIRING: TOM HOLLAND x ACTOR!READER

CONTAINS: Swearing, Angst, Fluff, maybe smut who knows...

WORD COUNT: 1706

SCENE INSPO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1OGN-1QhHI&feature=emb_title

.・゜゜・・゜゜・.・゜゜・・゜゜・.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

For the past week, you'd been completely immersed in every potential situation that could happen whilst filming with Tom Holland. This film is so important to you, and you can't let an off-screen relationship ruin an opportunity like this, however, to say it hadn't been haunting you would be a big lie.

By the time Monday had rolled around, you'd decided that the best thing to do was stay professional; work hard, be kind and stay focused. That way nothing could possibly go wrong, right? Well, it didn't last long. The moment you saw Tom you were struggling to stay polite.

"Hey, I'm Y/N" You smile, holding your hand out and hoping your introduction would maybe mean that the first time you two met didn't actually happen.

"Yeah, I know. I'm Tom" He smirks, taking your hand and shaking it briefly.

"Look, act like a dick all you want when were offset, but I swear to God if you ruin this for me, I will break your neck, and your balls whilst we're at it" You quip, making his smirk only grow wider.

Folding his arms he leant back against the wall of the trailer you were both in. "Darling, I'm not going to ruin this for you."

You roll your eyes and take a sip of the coffee that is clenched in your other hand.

Leaning forward slightly, he lets out a small laugh and then rolls his head from backwards. "I'm excited to do this, besides it's not every day I get to play the romantic interest of a pretty girl."

"Pretty girl? Hun, I'm more than just a pretty girl" You snarl, pulling your phone from your pocket. Your makeup artist should be here by now to help you escape this misery, but she's not, so this was something you were going to have to manage on your own.

"I bet you are."

You really disliked this guy. He was cocky, arrogant and really fucking hot. Why did he have to be so god damn good looking?

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late" Katie smiles, a red tint subtly kissing her cheeks.

"It's okay! Tom was just leaving."

You look up from your phone, noticing the brunette's eyes burning into you. You smile sarcastically and watch as he raises his hands in defeat.

"Hey, I'm Tom. Nice to meet you" He smiles at Katie, taking her hand and shaking it lightly. You let a laugh slip through your lips without realising watching this arrogant prick turn into Mr Nice Guy all of a sudden. The two exchange there hello's before Tom heads for the door. Turning back to you he stops and smirks, "See you at the screen test Y/N".

You both watch as he shuts the door.

"Now he's one cutie!" Katie's eyebrows were lifted high before she riggled them. "And you're the lucky bitch who gets to be his one and only in this film."

"Are you kidding me? He's an asshole!"

Katie was your best friend. She'd been your makeup artist since day one, and you vowed that from the day you met her, she'd be your companion through your career and life. She was talented, beautiful but most importantly honest, and that's what had always stuck with you. When you're being treated like you're better than most other people, it's easy to think that you are and Katie was the one who called you out on your shit and pulled you back down to reality.

"He seems nice! He introduced himself to me, and that's a lot more than most of these A-Listers do." She tuts, laying her bags down on the table. Opening up the sleeves, there were rolls and rolls of brushes, colours and powders lay all in order and organised. You wouldn't have a clue what to do with half of the stuff even if you tired, but damn she's talented.

"Well, he has something against me. The first time he met me he was an asshole and the second time he met me he was an asshole. This is going to be a long 2 months Katie, I don't know if I can do it." You tell her honestly. She sighs and takes a seat next to you, her hand resting over the top of yours.

"Look, you've wanted this role for as long as I've known you, don't let some guy ruin that." She was right. This was your dream and you were finally here. You'd be crazy to let anything get in your way. "Besides, maybe you might even be friends with him at the end of it."

"Was that supposed to be funny? Because if it was then it wasn't" you smile, as she ruffles your hair slightly.

"Anyway, I have news" She grins, starting on your skin. The smug look on her face couldn't be missed from a mile off. "I met this really cute boy."

"Where?!" You shriek, jumping suddenly in excitement.

"Sit still, you're a pain in my ass." Placing her hands on your shoulders you apologise before she continues. "Here! On set! His names Harrison."

"Oh my God! Is he handsome? Is he nice? Do you love him?" You spit out, wanting to chew all of the information in the fastest way possible.

"Yes, yes and are you on crack?"

Rolling your eyes you relax slightly and watch as her lips try to not pull upwards. It was cute, she definitely liked the guy.

"Well, when do I get to meet him?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she pulls out a lip liner and draws gracefully along the outline of your lips. Before she gets the chance to speak a runner knocks on the door and announces that the directors ready for the screen test, hinting that she needs to hurry up. After following her command to rub your lips together you get up and follow the runner, inhaling deeply as the sudden fear hits you. You weren't well known at all. Tom Holland was. If this didn't work out they could easily sack you off and pull a much more popular actress into the role instead of swapping out Tom. After all, he'd be playing a big part in pulling in ratings; you would not.

When you got to the room where you'd be screening, your heart was beating faster than you thought it ever could. There we're people and cameras scattered around, and the director talking to Tom.

"Y/N! I was just saying to Tom that I'm so happy I managed to get you both onboard. I really have a lot of faith in the two of you" He smiles, patting Tom on the back. "You know the drill anyway. This shouldn't take more than a few takes, maybe even one if we're lucky. We're doing the scene were Jonny and Baby have their little argument before getting down and dirty."

Chuckling, he sits down in this chair and gets handed some papers by a runner before telling you both to get ready and comfortable.

"Please tell me you've learnt your lines" You mutter, running a hand through the curls you'd had put in place.

"Look, I know you think I'm an ass but at least don't think I'm not professional." He sighs with irritation laced in his voice. You stop on your marker and look at him.

"Sorry, it's just you haven't seemed even slightly interested in your role since you've got here. I thought it was just another job for you". Your voice is still bitter, but the look of sadness that flashes behind his eyes makes the taste of your previous words slightly stale.

"Well I do care, more than you think." He spits, the glint of sadness quickly going stale too.

"Are you both ready?" The two of you snap your heads to the director who's watching you through the screen in front of him. Nodding, you put your head down and prepare for what's about to come. "Action"

To say you were taken back by the emotion in Tom's lines was an understatement. He pulled off Johnny's role so effortlessly and dare say it, maybe even better than Patrik Swayze. It was hard to match but playing alongside him was actually rewarding; you were actually getting something back from your screen partner for once, instead of trying to draw chemistry from thin air.

After running the dialogue, you say the last line you had. The line you were scared to say in all honesty, purely because of the raunchy choreography you had to endure after it.

"Dance with me?"

The whole studio is dead silent, and in that very moment, you forget you're even there. Tom's topless figure is stood opposite you, leaning forward ready to take your body in his arms. You let out a shaky breath as your hand moves its way along his shoulders into his hair. If you thought your heart was beating fast before, well this was something else.

This was the first time you'd probably looked into the boy's eyes. He had a strand of hair that was loose over the one, but none the less they were both locked with yours. This was weird. This guy irritated you more than anything, yet right now he was turning you on big style. His lips looked fucking great. Kissable even, and they were getting closer. Closer and closer and you glanced down and closed your eyes ready to taste the pure-

"CUT"

You pull away instantly and look at the floor, wishing it would swallow you whole and never spit you back out again.

"That was amazing. We don't need another take, it was perfect." The director gasps throwing his arms in the air. "I knew this would work!"

You glance up at Tom and notice his gaze burning onto you.

"Fairplay Baby, you can act."

TAGLIST

@secretwatcheroftheuniverse @averyfosterthoughts @bohemianrhapposts

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x actress reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #dirty dancing

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fairytail-incorrectquotes · 4 years

Note

Hey, first I ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤 YOU! Second, if all of the famous FT couples got sucked into a fairy tale book, what stories do you think they’d be in? (I’ve seen many a fic with different ideas.)

hmmm... famous? I'll assume you mean the Big Four + fraxus, yes?

this is a very interesting one. it could mean "what story fits their plot best" or "which characters are they the most like" or even "which traditional fairy tales do you think they'd like the most" - all of which are wonderful questions, glorious-san!

i think the way i shall answer this... hmm. I'm answering this as "if you were rewriting a fairy tale with these ships as the characters, what would you write?"

i do apologise for this, though, because most of my knowledge of fairy tales comes from general knowledge and disney films

well, for nalu, I'd do cinderella. lucy can relate rather a lot to cinders, I'd imagine - lost her mother young, never had a particularly good relationship with her father, dreams of love and freedom she couldn't have (she can now, of course, but not originally). lucy is beautiful, blonde, whose good looks are subtle but certainly overwhelmingly stunning. natsu is charming, handsome - maybe not the most romantic or rich or a good dancer, but he is certainly loyal, and that's what prince charming is primarily known for. prince charming may not have remembered cinder's face all that well, but he roamed the whole land to look for her, never tiring until he found his princess. natsu would definitely do that for lucy - whether you ship nalu or not, it's true that he is truly devoted to her, and would run all over fiore with a glass slipper to find her. and lucy would definitely be covered in cinders by the end of the tale - and that's what cinderella was named for, after all! 😉

gruvia is a harder one. beauty and the beast comes to mind, although perhaps a role-reversal would be more accurate. gray is handsome, this is true, and when he first met juvia - well, she wasnt exactly the kindest. they were enemies, but like the beast, juvia fell for gray almost instantaneously. she changed herself for him, so he would love her - she stopped harming his friends, she joined the light, she wasnt so full of old traumas and misery. she is obsessive, like the beast, and like beauty and the beast, their relationship... wasnt always healthy, exactly. but she changed for the better, and gray fell for her. i think theyd fit the role rather well - not to mention, bickslow would have a great time making the crockery sing.

gajevy also reminds me of beauty and the beast - levy is clever and beautiful and gajeel... well, isn't - but I've already used that, so I'm thinking something else instead. i could maybe say disney's rapunzel, because tangled is a banging film and gajeel is a little like flynn ryder. we could have them be kristoff and anna, from frozen, or maybe westley and buttercup from the princess bride. frankly, a lot of fairy tales fit their dynamic - elegant young lady falls for dastardly-villain-turned-hero. i want to think of princess and the frog - almost there is a bop - although im going to settle on mulan. mulan is a badass warrior, beautiful, clumsy and clever. she's ambitious, cunning, works hard and fights harder. at first, shang dislikes mulan, similar to the way gajeel dislikes levy. however, during the story, levy makes gajeel sip Respect Women Juice, and gajeel continued to chug it for breakfast for the rest of his life. gajeel loves and fears his badass, cute-ass wife - something i refer to as The Moominpappa Complex - and levy is kinda gender-nonconforming too!

jerza reminds me of the film enchanted - have you seen it? it's very good! - because both of them canonically have feelings for eachother, but both reject those feelings and tell themselves they don't deserve the other. also erza is like snow white because she lives with several funny little men (except we call them the fairy tail guild)

fraxus is .... uh, princess and the frog? laxus is cocky, a little smug, kinda selfish, but hard-working, no-nonsense freed helps him realise the errorof his ways, and teaches him to be less arrogant, less high-and-mighty, and to value his friends. also i REALLY wanna see laxus as a frog and bickslow as a crocodile with a trumpet.

I'm sorry this took so long but i hope the wait was worth it!! its a wonderful question that so many fantastic ideas can come from, so many fics can be prompted by and so many people would answer differently!! are there more ships you'd like me to do it for? perhaps you'd like me to do ships as different ancient myths, or something similar? itd be my pleasure!!!

and finally, glorious-san, i ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤 you too! 💕💕💕

have a lovely day!

#ask #not a quote #long post #no seriously. long post #fic prompt #art prompt #ess tag this

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maybankiara · 4 years

Text

I HAVE COME TO SAVE THE DAY

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera

summary: JJ is a postman and Kiara is his favourite receptionist (alternatively, 4 times Kiara didn’t know JJ’s name and the one time she did).

w/c: 5k

a/n: i posted this on ao3 back for jiara week and totally forgot to post it on tumblr, too, so here’s a belated jiara fic, a short ‘lil enemies to lovers trope for y’all!!

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

1: J.

‘Carrera Law Firm, how may I help you?’

The guy standing in front of Kiara in a postman’s uniform gives her a glance that’s part-question part-disbelief, and then points at the device in his hand. ‘Delivery for Anna Carrera.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Blood rushes to Kiara’s cheeks as she clicks the button on the desk telephone, reaching her mother within seconds.

‘Just sign it in,’ says her mother.

‘Okay.’

She hangs up and looks at the guy, extending a hand. ‘I’ll sign it.’

He gives her a slight eyebrow raise and she may or may not see a hint of wickedness in the tight corner of his smile as she takes the device from him. She’s quick to sign it, with a shaky hand, and give it back to him.

‘You’re new here.’

Kiara nods, says: ‘Yeah, it's my first day’, even though it was a statement, not a question.

He stares at her for a hot second with the same expression, and Kiara expects him to ask something else, make it a conversation—it seemed like a conversation starter—but he doesn’t even acknowledge her answer.

‘Where do I put this?’

There’s a slight thud and she leans across her desk, seeing a medium-sized box with his black combat boot right next to it.

Her lips purse as she realises what he’d done, and decides she dislikes him.

All she wants to do is tell him off, that could be fragile, but she’s new and he seems cocky and reeks of trouble enough to make her bite her tongue.

So all she actually does is lean back into her chair and nod towards the wall to her side. ‘Just leave it there.’

He does so without a question, and on the way out, gives her a two-finger salute.

Kiara checks the paper slip he left on her desk, finding his name with ease: J. Maybank. She thinks of his short but shaggy blonde hair, rugged and self-satisfied appearance that oozed confidence, and yeah, he looked like a boy whose name begins with J.

It’s not the most awkward conversation/situation she has that day, but it’s the most memorable one, mostly because she can't get his smirk out of her head for more reasons than just one (and far too many of them she’d never admit).

She decides she hates him, anyway.

2: JOHN

The next time he comes, it’s Friday and Kiara’s got the hang of it, so she wags a finger at him to tell him to wait as she picks up the ringing phone.

‘Carrera Law Firm.’

She talks with the customer—a lovely lady, has the misfortune of living next to a new construction site—for a little bit, laughter falling from her lips. It’s Friday already and she’s gotten better at this, more confident, and making J. Maybank wait on her is worth it.

(It’s not a personal vendetta, per se – more of karma, really.)

She watches him shift weight from one leg to another, hands resting in his pocket. He’s got a slouch to him, the ease in his shoulders making him seem as if anything he wishes for, the world gives him. Kiara’s friend Sarah calls boys who stood like that suave, but Kiara calls it arrogance.

The same half-smile with the same dose of wickedness in its curve is mocking her when she bids farewell to the lady on the phone. Her back is resting against the chair and a pen slides across the paper, before she actually looks at him.

‘Delivery?’

J. Maybank reaches into the side of his backpack and takes out a handful of letters, placing them on the desk.

Kiara frowns, because he’s still standing there. ‘Do I need to sign those?’

‘Nope.’

He doesn’t budge and neither does his smile.

She collects the mail and goes through it, separating them in piles for each of her mother's employees. It takes her a couple of seconds, but J. Maybank’s gaze on her burns on her cheeks and makes it last a whole eternity.

Her glance at him comes in pair with a single raised eyebrow. ‘Can I help you?’

J. Maybank puts his fingers on the desk, tapping one of them. ‘I can leave a message with you, right?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Okay’'

He nods. Kiara notes his fingers are shaky as he reaches into his pocket, taking out a pen and a piece of paper, even though there’s a bunch of both already on her desk for this exact purpose.

He scribbles down a note and folds the paper in half, hiding the text. He slides the note towards her, fingers still shaky. It’s a far cry from the overconfident, cocky person he was a mere minute ago.

‘I looked up on the internet and it said that you offer free consultations, right?’

Kiara nods. ‘Mostly, yeah. Depends on what you need.’

‘Family law,’ he elaborates.

‘Then a consultation is free. It’s Mrs Viola Glisson’s department.’ Kiara puts her finger on the note and she wants to open it, to see what he’d written. Instead, she swallows dryly. ‘Do you want me to give this to her?’

He nods. ‘That’d be great.’

No thanks comes her way, only a smile that is innocent for less than it takes her to blink. He gives her the same two-finger salute and is back to the cocky J. Maybank in moments, and Kiara hates to admit that she can’t take her eyes off of him as he walks through the glass door. His uniform doesn’t fit the aesthetic of the building, nor Kiara’s smart black trousers and a red t-shirt with a propper-up collar and a zipper on the cleavage, but he doesn’t look out of place.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Kiara’s fingers take the paper note, ready to give it to Viola, a woman who grew up with her mother and Kiara dated her son James back in middle school. She’s planning to give it to Viola immediately, no wicked intentions, but J. Maybank’s face pops up in her mind, complete with the self-confident smirk. She gives in with a sigh, thinking that he deserves her snooping for the way he’s been acting.

To her disappointment, the writing is just a phone number with John Maybank written underneath it.

She hands it to Viola with a sigh, offering no information to go with it. Viola reads the note and a knowing look spreads over her features. ‘Maybank, the postman, right?’

Kiara nods.

‘He’s about your and James’ age, no?’

‘I guess.’ Her face flashes before her eyes and she places him in her school corridors with ease. She knows he doesn’t go to the Cooke Academy because a face with demeanour like his would stand out.

‘He’s a good kid, Maybank. Mowed our lawn a fair amount,’ Viola muses to herself. Her fingers flip through a stack of papers and she writes something down, looking up at Kiara. ‘Did he say what he needed?’

‘Just a consultation with Familial.’

‘Hm? That’s interesting, might be about his father... Can you bring me a cup of coffee on your way out? You make the best coffee I’ve had in years!’

Kiara knows when she’s being dismissed, so she does as Viola asked of her. Her mind buzzes with the newfound information about J.—John—Maybank.

He’s a mystery, and stays in her mind longer than she’d like, again.

3: JOHN J.

‘Mrs Grubbs, I can’t give away our employee’s private information.’

‘It’s just a phone number,’ repeats Mrs Lana Grubbs in exasperation. ‘It’s not private.’

‘A personal phone number is private information. I don’t have the right—’

‘Fine, I’ll just do it myself.’

The short woman with greying brown hair pulled into an elaborate bun walks past Kiara's desk with complete disregard of any manners whatsoever, and is already halfway through the main hallway when Kiara comes up in front of her.

The young Carrera puts her hands between her and the woman, lips pressed tight. ‘Mrs Grubbs, you can’t walk in here unannounced.’

‘Announce me, then.’

‘You need to have an appointment,’ elaborates Kiara. She feels herself close to seething; there are firm rules set in stone when it comes to culture, and the woman before her seems to have completely missed them. ‘I can arrange you an appointment.’

Mrs Grubbs scoffs. Her perfectly defined eyebrows shoot up, and her lips purse as she raises her chin. ‘I need an appointment now, young lady.’

‘My mother is in the middle of a meeting, and is busy until the end of her shift.’

‘She is not that busy. Push me in after this meeting.’

Kiara sighs. Even if she pushed her in, she knew her mother wouldn’t give her time of the day with that attitude. ‘With all due respect—’

‘Ms Lana!’

The two women avert their attention to Kiara’s reception desk, where a fair-haired boy in a postman’s uniform is standing with a small box in his hands and a grin on his face. He waves at them, but he’s looking at Mrs Grubbs.

‘Hey, Ms Lana. How you been?’

Mrs Grubbs’ demeanour changes in an instant – Kiara watches her go from a ruthless witch to a friendly lady from the neighbourhood. She approaches John Maybank and squeezes his cheeks with, asking about school, his friends, and whatnot.

Kiara takes the opportunity to go back behind her desk, eyeing the exchange suspiciously. Before she knows it, John is hugging Mrs Grubbs and she turns to the girl with a disappointed smile on her face.

‘I will arrange an appointment elsewhere,’ she states, as if Kiara is supposed to give a damn. ‘Your services are subpar.’

at least we don’t need to deal with entitled, mannerless assholes like you, crosses Kiara’s mind, but the only thing noticeable is the smile on her face. ‘In that case, I hope you find services that match your demands.’

What she gets in return is a distasteful eye roll paired with an over-dramatic huff. Mrs Grubbs turns on her heel and walks out of the door without so much as a goodbye.

At last, Kiara takes a deep breath and shifts her gaze to the postman in front of her desk.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he tells her with the smirk she’s gotten used to in the past two weeks. ‘Ms Lana is a bitch to everyone.’

‘Not you,’ sighs Kiara.

‘No, that’s because everyone likes me.’

She raises her eyebrows at him—she seems to be doing that a lot when he’s around—and just opens her hand. ‘What you got?’

‘Delivery for Mrs Viola Glisson.’ He hands her a paper slip and the device to sign, which she does. ‘So you don’t agree that everyone likes me?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Ouch.’ John places a hand over where his heart is supposed to be (a little too far to the left) and grimaces. ‘That hurts my feelings.’

Kiara gives the device back to him, walking around the desk to pick up the box and put it on it. She knows he’s staring at her cleavage (not very exposed, but noticeable when she bends over) and wonders if he left it there on purpose.

When she sits back in her chair, he’s still there, fingers tapping against her desk.

‘Look, thanks for your help with Mrs Grubbs,’ she says, because a) she’s not a fool and she can tell what he did, and b) she can swallow her pride for one second.

‘Does that make me your prince?’

‘You didn’t come on the white horse or in your shining armour.’

‘My uniform’s kinda shiny,’ he says, tugging at the short sleeves that have the reflective tape on it that is a must-have for Kildare. ‘And my bike is white.’

Kiara laughs. ‘Your bicycle?’

‘My motorbike.’

He says it slowly, with the “e” stretching into a knowing smile, and Kiara hates that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and hates even more that it’s working.

Thing is – by now, Kiara is half-certain that the majority of the reason why his presence irks her is because she’s attracted to it, and Kiara Carrera hates being attracted to people who are cocky and self-serving. He looks like he could be a good night’s fun, with his cheeky grin and eyes that remind her of waves she sometimes surfs on, and he reeks of trouble, still. This used to be her type – tall, blonde, with a streak for illegal activities, but Kiara said to herself that she isn’t fifteen anymore. She hasn’t been fifteen in two years, come two weeks. She’s past that childish behaviour.

‘I don’t need a knight in shining armour, pal,’ she states, shutting down her thoughts before they progressed even further. I need a postman.’

‘We could be friends,’ he says. ‘Why not, huh?’

‘Do you always chat with receptionists for longer than it’s appropriate?’

‘Only cute ones.’

Kiara can’t contain her laugh this time, and it echoes in the room full of marble. John is smiling at her, and she thinks that the wickedness in the crook of his smile is just playfulness, instead. Teasing, too, and maybe just the slight hint of a daredevil.

She leans her elbows on the desk, intertwines her fingers, and rests her chin on her hands. ‘I don’t even know your name.’

He cocks his head to the side as if he knows she’s lying and, based on the way he seems (perceptive, in any case – he’s very good at finding out what makes her tick), he knows that she is.

The blond extends her a hand and she takes it. ‘John J. Maybank.’

‘Kiara Carrera.’ His grip is firm but so is hers, and they have a little staredown. ‘Adding in a “J.” to make yourself seem fancy?’

(She pretends her hand isn’t cold once his is away; she pretends she doesn’t feel the blood coursing through her veins, or the knots in her stomach when his eyes fall to her lips.)

John J. Maybank laughs with his whole chest, arms crossed on it. ‘Fancy is the last word anyone would use to describe me.’

Her eyes travel up and down his body, and she tries not to linger on his biceps, accentuated by his pose, or the way his uniform sits just right on his body.

Instead, she grins. ‘I can tell.’

He taps his fingers against her desk, and her eyes catch a pair of rings she didn’t notice before. ‘Anyway, we're friends now.'

‘Do I want to be friends with you?’

John J. Maybank is already halfway out of the building when he turns to her, walking backwards, and shrugs with his arms outstretched. ‘I don’t think you have a choice.’

He’s right – she doesn’t.

She thinks he’d be surprised if he knew just how little choice she has when it comes to him.

4: JOHNNY JAY

John J. Maybank catches her as she’s walking out of the small—hers only—bathroom next to her desk.

‘Hey, friend.’

Kiara still rolls her eyes at the greeting. There’s something off about him, only she doesn’t notice what it is until she's sat down at her desk – he’s wearing a basketball top and short cargo pants, paired with the usual combat boots.

Kiara certainly didn’t expect to find out that the uniform actually hides quite a good bit of his body that is, objectively (and not in the way of Kiara objecting), quite pleasant to look at.

He catches her looking. ‘I’m here for an appointment with Mrs Glisson.’

‘Now?’

John J. Maybank glances at the clock to his right, above the bathroom door. ‘In ten minutes.’

‘Give me a second.’

Her mind buzzes as fast as her fingers flip through the book of visitors. She recalls him asking for a consultation with Viola about two weeks ago, distinctly remembering Viola saying something about his father possibly being the reason. Her fingers land on the last time someone came for Viola.

‘Sorry, she’s still in a meeting.’

‘Thanks. It’s okay, I’m not in a rush,’ he says, taking a seat in the waiting area, a few feet from Kiara’s desk. He throws one hand on the back of the seat next to him, ankle over a knee, and grins. ‘Besides, I don’t mind the company.’

‘I’m busy,’ retorts Kiara.

‘When’s the last time you had fun?’

‘How long ago did you come here?’

‘Damn, dude. You still don’t like me?’

‘Nope.’

They both know it's a lie.

In the past two weeks, he’s been here about five times, and every single one of those, he stayed behind to chat a little bit. Kiara didn’t mind – she liked having someone to talk to, especially someone who was her age.

(Well – not anymore, as of today.)

‘You should come to the Boneyard,’ he says. ‘And before you say you don’t want to—I see you—I’ll just let you know that I know you do, because I’ve seen you there, with Sarah Cameron and the kooks.’

At this, Kiara leans back in her chair, crossing her ankles underneath her desk. ‘Don’t recall the Kooks playing at a Boneyard party. I think they tend to have proper concerts, instead.’

‘So what, you’re gonna say going to Boneyard parties isn’t your bad habit?’

A smile spreads over her lips, heated underneath his gaze. She likes that he caught her reference – she likes that maybe they have the same taste in music. She likes the idea of them dancing to it, at a Boneyard party, red solo cups in hand.

‘Relax, Johnny Jay.’ He raises an eyebrow at the name, but doesn’t interrupt her. ‘Boneyard parties aren’t really my scene anymore.’

John J. Maybank stares at her with the same knowing look. She catches the glimmer in her eye that tells her she's not fooling him, and she sees the intent in the curve of his Cupid’s bow.

He flashes a set of white teeth and a pair of dimples. ‘Bring Sarah Cameron and the kooks. It might be a pogue party, but it’ll be a proper party.’

Kiara’s smile is soft, and her cheeks are heating up again underneath the sharpness of his gaze. ‘What will they say when I find out I’m friends with a pogue?’

‘You care about that?’

‘No,’ she admits, ‘but I thought you might.’

‘Nah, dude. My friends already know about us.’

‘There’s no us.’

‘There could be.’

He gives her an award winning smile, one that must’ve given him the aura of someone good for a night's worth of fun. (She hates that it’s drawing her in the way he is, making her want to say yes when she told herself she’d be more responsible her last year before leaving for college.)

Kiara just sighs, going back to what she was doing before she took a bathroom break – doodling on a paper they used for testing the new printer (the one only Kiara seems to understand, which makes her useful, and the situation annoying).

John J. Maybank walks over to her, fingers on the desk. It irks her when he does it, so he does it as often as possible.

She looks up at him and for once, there is not a hint of anything wicked.

‘Come on, Kiara. Next summer, you’ll be getting ready for college, and you’ll be too busy to enjoy yourself. Then you’re gonna leave for college and you won’t look back, and that’ll be the best years of your life wasted. Besides,’—he taps against her hand and she slaps his—‘I won’t be there anymore.’

He tries touching her hand again, and she slaps it all the same. ‘Why does that matter?’

‘‘Cause I’m the best thing Kildare has to offer.’

as if.

Kiara is about to snap back with something—he hasn’t figured out what—when Rafe Cameron walks past the two of them, giving her a court nod. She pushes John J. Maybank’s hand off the wood, pretending her hands don’t burn where skin touches skin. ‘That’s your cue.’

He nods, and she notices the smile fell off his face while she watched her best friend’s brother walk out. His blue eyes are glazed, and his lips are trembling so Kiara pokes his hand with the top end of her pen.

‘You’ll be fine, Johnny Jay.’

‘Yeah.’ He nods to her, or himself, and taps once against the desk. ‘See you later, I guess.’

Kiara gives him what she hopes to be a reassuring smile.

John J. Maybank leaves, and she listens to the familiar thuds of his boots until she hears Viola's door open, and he walks in. What they’re doing isn’t her business, regardless of how badly she wants to know. Rafe Cameron’s here because he’s dealing with some bullshit his dad’s putting him through, and the only reason she knows any of that is because Sarah told her. Kiara is practically family to the two, even if she isn’t the biggest fan of the boy.

Johnny Jay, on the other hand, is someone she struggles to even consider a friend, since they’ve never met outside the confines of these four walls. They read each other well, bounce off of one another like a pair of old friends, and they’ve got a lot more in common than she would’ve ever thought.

They’re not friends in the traditional way, but they’re friends enough.

The telephone on the desk buzzes with the word VIOLA in place of caller ID. Kiara answers.

‘Kiara, sweetheart, can you please print for me the documents I sent you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you, darling.’

Printing is actually much simpler than any of them realise. Kiara doesn’t even open the documents before sending them to the printer, clicking a few buttons that are just settings for how the page will come out (and most of them she doesn’t even need to touch). The printer is in the building’s library on the first floor, and the room smells of old books and freshly printed papers.

There’s a difference between snooping into a note he left for Viola and looking over the documents that she is currently taking out of the printer – she can’t not see what is written on them when she has to check that the printer hasn’t gone out of ink.

It’s only a glance at each of the pages, but it’s enough for her to see EMANCIPATION FORM and RESTRAINING ORDER FORM written at the headers of each of the two sets to clock onto what’s happening.

The only thought in her head is: shit.

She wasn’t meant to see that.

Kiara’s hands produce a shaky knock against the wooden door, and it’s Viola’s raspy smoker-voice that invites her in. She’s still feeling a little bit sick in the stomach when she enters, papers in hand.

‘Thank you, Kiara,’ says Viola, a thoughtful expression on her face.

‘No problem.’

Her voice is feeble, filling out every inch of space not occupied by something, or someone. She’s halfway out the door before Viola even gets to dismiss her, and she glances at Maybank on the way – he’s pale, face sickened with something she doesn’t recognise, but his eyes are weary in a way no sixteen-year-old’s should be.

He doesn’t seem angry – it’s Kiara’s last thought before the door shuts, and she can’t see him anymore.

Time passes as she waits for the meeting to be over. The fair-haired boy is all she can think about; she shouldn’t ask questions but there are many in her head, and her doodles can’t distract her anymore. When customers call, she doesn’t chat to them, and no people walk in to divert her attention.

He walks out about quarter of an hour later, a bittersweet edge to the eyebrows looming over his eyes, a stack of paper in tow.

‘Hey, friend.’

A finger taps against the desk, next to a doodle that looks an awful lot like him. She moves her arm and rests her elbow on it.

‘Hey,’ she says back. ‘Did it go well?’

‘Well.’ A sour smile. ‘I’m not sure getting a restraining order against the same old man you’re trying to get emancipated from could ever go well.’

‘I’m sorry,’ offers Kiara, and it's genuine.

To John J. Maybank’s credit, he gives her a court nod and a smile that seems a little less like it’s saying i am doing something that could go terribly right or terribly wrong.

‘Come to the Boneyard on Saturday. Bring Sarah and everybody. It’ll be fun.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

He must know her well enough to be able to tell this is as close to a yes as anyone will ever get from her, because the smile his cheeks stretch into is the one with dimples, and a fancy for trouble.

She knows him well enough to be able to tell that what she found out stays between them.

(Kiara wonders when strangers turned into friends turned into people who understand each other without having to say anything.)

‘Oh and, uh,’ he calls back from the main door, ‘happy birthday!’

He doesn’t stick around long enough to hear her thanks, but he sticks around many other times.

+ 1: JJ

Flowers.

‘Those better not be for me,’ muses Kiara from her desk. ‘I don’t like orchids.’

JJ walks in with a bouquet of flowers and his postman uniform, all accompanied by a wide, cheerful grin on his face. He’s got a spring to his step and he swings himself around the desk, planting a kiss to Kiara’s cheek.

Her hands loop around his waist. With the flowers now on her papers, Kiara feels as if she walked into the Camerons’ backyard.

‘It’s not for you,’ says JJ, wrapping a curl around his finger. ‘For Mrs Glisson.’

‘What’s the occasion?’

Kiara’s—well, whatever they are to one another—hesitates for a second, but she thinks it’s more for dramatic effect than actual hesitation.

His finger taps her cheek, warm and rough at the tip. ‘I’m moving into the Chateau today. Officially.’

‘Have the forms gone through?’

He nods, and Kiara flings her around his neck, pulling him into a full kiss. It shifts into a hug, and she feels him relax into her. ‘I can breathe now.’

‘I can only imagine.’ She pulls back, smiling as wide as he is. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Shocked. Terrified. Excited. Ambi-feelous.’

‘That’s not a word.’

‘God, you’re starting to sound like Pope. I never should’ve introduced you.’

‘It was inevitable,’ Kiara says.

They both know it, so JJ just runs a finger alongside her jaw, and his lips briefly touch hers. He’s gone after that and so are the flowers (Kiara is genuinely glad they weren’t for her). Viola isn’t in a meeting right now so it’s fair game, and about two minutes in, she’s pretty sure she can hear the woman crying/yelling (when it comes to Viola, those sounds are way too similar). It’s a big deal for everybody – the whole firm took him under their wing once they found out about the horrors of living under the Maybank roof, enough that they decided to do the case pro bono.

(JJ doesn’t like pity, so he made sure to help out in any way they can, from running errands while doing her postman job or being their personal mechanic during his free time.)

When he comes back, he’s all smiles, lips stretched out wider than Kiara thought it possible.

‘I’m picking up post today,’ he says, walking over to the box with mail thrown into it. ‘Busy day.’

‘How busy?’

‘Busy.’

‘Could you spare ten minutes?’ asks Kiara, stepping away from her desk. He can see her in her full glory now – she’s pretty sure he has a thing for secretaries and their lookalikes, and she’s been putting in extra effort the past few days. ‘I think a pipe went off in my bathroom, or something. Since you said you’d help out with maintenance…’

JJ checks the clock above the bathroom, then shrugs, facing away from the camera to give her a coy grin. ‘I guess ten minutes won’t hurt.’

‘Thank you.’ She starts walking over to the bathroom, JJ at her heel. ‘I’ve been dying to get this fixed for days.’

‘Mhm. I can imagine. It must’ve been awful.’

‘Truly terrible.’

The moment they’re behind the closed door of Kiara’s bathroom, she’s pressed against the cold wall, JJ’s body hot in front of her. His lips are all over her neck and her hands making a mess out of his hair, while his are busy tugging her shirt out of her trousers and sliding underneath the fabric, pulling lines on the bare skin.

Instinctively, Kiara’s hips buckle against his as she arches her back and tilts her neck, exposing more skin for him to brush his lips over. She feels the bugle, and lets out a hearty laugh.

JJ stops kissing her, just enough to give her a glare with a frown. ‘I can see how terrible it’s been if you have time to laugh at me.’

‘Shut up,’ Kiara says, tugging at his collar to pull him closer. ‘We’ve got to be quiet.’

His hands travel downwards until they’re in her trousers, cupping her ass, and Kiara buckles against him again. She pulls him closer until they’re chest to chest, and she kisses the spot right below his ear, feeling him moan against her, his hands gripping her tighter. The thrill of being caught is making both their hearts race, and Kiara can think of very few things hotter than this moment.

‘Quiet is the last thing you’re going to be, Kie,’ he threatens.

She’s up on the sink within a heartbeat, and he tugs her trousers down with more ease than she’d think possible.

There’s a mirror on both sides of the wall, in front of her and behind her; she sees the grin on her lips, with self-assurance and a hint of wickedness to it, watching JJ press kisses up her tight that leave marks no one but her will be able to see.

Her hands are tugging on his hair, pulling him closer to her. ‘Ten minutes,’ she reminds him. ‘Make ‘em count.’

All JJ does is bury his head between her legs, and she starts to think that this bathroom had never been meant for anything other than this.

★

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