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starillusion13 · 3 months

Note

cold husband mafia mingi x reader where they get into an argument then the reader is kidnapped and gets hurt infront of him and falls unconscious give me all the angst you’ve got 🫶🏻

I AM LOST...

Pairing: Mafia husband! Mingi x Wife!reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Family au

W.C: 4.2k

Warnings: arguments b/w husband and wife, neglection of married life, mention open cuts with knife, kidnapping, get shot, blood loss. Regret.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

“Why don’t you understand?”

You angrily put down the phone on your bed and brushed back the loose hairs from your face. You know it’s not a certain thing for you to be in this situation but you didn’t expect that even today also, he was going to treat it as the usual day. You were not expecting much from him but at least he could have tried to appreciate your efforts for the night.

You glanced at the clock and looked down at your long-slit dress for the night hugging your body. Few moments back, your mirror reflected the beauty of the night with a bright smile adorning your look but now your face reflecting the sadness. Sadness or loneliness.

Throwing the heels to the side of the room, you picked up the night sleep-gown to get change into it. Taking the phone in your hand, you checked through the notifications for the last time for the day, there’s still no texts from him of changing his mind. So, you are just going to sleep without even eating the dinner. You have already texted the restaurant to cancel your booking for the night and paid extra charges for the arrangements before heading to the bathroom.

It’s been an hour that you have locked yourself inside the bathroom when you heard a faint knock. When you turned off the tap, you could hear the light banging at the door.

“Who is there?”

“Ma’am, Is everything okay? I was calling you for last ten minutes and sorry to enter the room without the permission but I was worried for you.”

Oh. You were zoning out and didn’t hear your name being called. You could hear the worriedness in your maid’s voice and she is the only one who knows to accompany you even when she is busy or having her special days. Atleast, she understands you and knows what you are going through in your life. You literally envy her as she is not rich like you but having a nice and moderate life where she is actually happy unlike you who don’t know about happiness after the marriage.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m okay. Just need some time alone and I’ll be fine.”

You heard a faint ‘okay’ and click of your bedroom door shut. You sighed and stared at the mirror for few minutes before heading outside the bathroom. Slow footsteps took you near the window where you could see the view of the busy streets of the city. Your one hand resting on the glass window looked like as if you are caged in the room, maybe you are, just the way you are restricted to this marriage.

When you heard your maid calling out your name again, you let her in but still facing the window. You have tried not to show your vulnerable state to her but everytime you failed and cried to her. She was always there to comfort you, even today as well.

“Are you crying?”

You glanced at your reflection to the side, you could see a tear-line down on your cheeks and your fingers raised up to feel it. To feel the pain of your silent scream.

“I don’t know but why am I even crying?”

The mother like figure setting the food on the corner table, made her way towards you. She sympathetically smiled at you and when she reached near you, patting your head and taking hold of your one hand, brought you to sit on the edge of the bed. You stared at the hold and silent tears fell on top of it.

“Am I not worthy for his time?” you asked in a hushed voice.

She rubbed your palms and hummed, “It’s not about your worth my dear. He is just distant from everything. You know when I first came into this house to work, I thought he really hate me as his maid or he doesn’t like a particular thing about me which is why he is being so cold to me. But gradually I got to know him, he is just a man who grew up as a child neglected by the family and so he doesn’t know how to really express himself.”

“But I am his wife. Does he not care about this? If he didn’t want to marry then why making my life miserable.” You gulped the lump in your throat and inhaled the sob that could tear out any time. You just want a little time of his where you can spend some time like a couple and talk about our married life.

“I know, Y/N. It’s really hard for you but some things need time.”

“It’s been one year…” you looked at her and she nodded.

“I hope he would soon see how he is ignoring a beautiful soul like you. He really loves you though or he wouldn’t have done so much to keep you safe here. He is just scared to open up with you as his parents never listened to him so he thinks that you might behave like them as well. As it was a contract marriage so he thinks you are with his parents but trust me, his first priority is you.”

You chuckled bitterly, “Never. His first priority is this mafia business which would never let him to come closer to me. He is just doing everything because this is his house and his properties which are needed to be kept safe-“

“And you are my wife.”

Both of you turned towards the door to see the man in messed up condition standing at the doorway with his coat in one hand and placing the gun in the drawer of the table near the corner table.

The maid stood up and excused herself to leave the room, leaving you with Mingi. When passing him, she asked quietly if he had eaten but he just shook his head and told not to bring him dinner, everything inaudible to you.

His eyes look tired and hairs disheveled, lazily he threw the tie on the sofa and walked towards the mirror. Your eyes following his movements and when he caught you looking at him through the mirror, you didn’t look away but locked your eyes with his.

“Your wife?” a hatred filled undertone spilled from your mouth.

He waited to see if you wanted to say anything more but only tears flowing down your eyes. The only thought came across his mind was how he had messed up today, the very first anniversary of both of yours. The mission was important but he couldn’t suddenly let the enemies know that they have a hole of his absence and take advantage of his gang, as he is the main snipper of the Mafia ‘Ateez’.

“Yes.” His eyes glanced at the food kept covered at the corner table and sighed, “Eat your food. I had my dinner earlier and you should not sleep in empty stomach.”

“I would rather die than eating dinner.”

Your words somehow hit a nerve inside him as he skipped towards and made you stand up, gripping your shoulders tightly. “What did you just say?”

You tried to read him but you could only see fire eyes staring back at you. You glanced at the grip on the shoulders and saw few cuts on his knuckles and wrists, maybe the mission didn’t succeed. So what? He is now going to show his frustration on you?

“I can’t live like a stranger in this house even when I’m living with the person, I got married to last year. Have you ever considered our life in a serious way or it’s just a contract mission for you. You could have said before our marriage then I would have done something to prevent it. Why was it necessary to make my life miserable for your mafia business?”

You were shouting on his face and you could see his furrowed brows and piercing eyes searching for your every emotion. His grip on you loosened and you swatted his hands away from you.

“Y/n…”

“Stop it. I’m tired of listening to your same excuses.” You pushed your hairs back and continued, “This mission was important. I’m doing things which is good for us. Same words.”

Mingi exhaled and proceeded to remove the wrist watch.

“You know it’s not an easy thing to be the part of a gang member and also maintain the family. You need to understand some things. Don’t act childish and whine for little things.”

“little things? You are an emotionless monster, Mingi. Do you even care about other’s feelings?” You rubbed your eyes with your sleeves, “I tried to understand your situation before. Everytime whenever I got disappointed with your attitude, I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay once the missions get over. But never.”

“This is my life, Y/n.”

“and what about my life? Before the marriage I dreamt of getting a husband who would be caring and loving to me. I never wanted money or a luxurious life to show off people but I wanted someone who will stay with me, understand me. Mingi please, I’m tired of all these.”

He stayed silent.

“I’m really a monster. Don’t forget I’m a member of ‘Ateez’ so I should not have feelings for anything and of course, I can’t be available like the other husbands. I gave you everything. I bought you all the things you have ever wanted, I have taken you to all the places you have wanted to visit and still here you are complaining about your life.” He has never shouted at you and today the way he raised his voice has reached the limit.

“Mingi……I need love.” You whispered the words. You just want to disappear from this place at that moment. He has heard what you had said and he stopped in his track entering the bathroom.

“Y/n, why can’t you understand that-“

“STOP! I am fed up with this. I’m leaving this place right now. Don’t try to find me unless you know how to become a husband.”

You grabbed your phone and purse laying on the sofa and slide the jacket hanging on the hook and slammed shut the door. Mingi stared at the door through which just now you have exited. A tear drop fell from the eye. Not your, but his. He is crying. He brings his finger to feel the tears on his cheeks. He deserves it.

“I’m sorry….”

He threw the towel on the bed and quickly dialled a number and waited impatiently for the other line to pick it up.

“Hello? Is anything wrong?”

“Yunho, please track Y/n’s number and see where she is going. I know she must be going to her best friend’s house but she was restless when she left the house so I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid and go to her house safely.”

“Mingi, calm down. I will keep a watch on her. And, you still didn’t apologize right? She needs you, Mingi. You are her husband and you know she is not used to this kind of dark life yet her parents forced her into this but you need to remember, she is that bubbly Y/n from our class and she deserves happiness. I hope after she comes back to you, you treat her the right way. Right way I meant, you will give her all the love she needs and deserves.”

“I know… please keep a watch on her.”

“I will.”

After hanging up the call, he stared at the phone screen and unconsciously, he tapped on your name to call you but his finger hovered over the call sign and sighed. You wouldn’t pick up and he made a mental note to bring you back.

After a while when he exited the bathroom, he glanced at the bed. Usually, he would find you sleeping or scrolling through the phone. Your food still kept in the corner, getting cold just like the relationship between you both. It would not be a surprise if you leave him at this point because it would be all his fault after all. It’s surprising how you are a carefree, bubbly and a sunshine girl got entangled with confined, ruthless and cold boy.

He has always watched you since the middle school and he envied how cheerful you always were unlike him, who had to hide the mafia family business and always acting cold towards everyone. Never in a while, he thought that he would be marrying you in the future and now here you are both struggling in your life. And moreover, he is the one destroying your butterflies and rainbows with the thunderstorm of his coldness.

The bedroom door slammed open and the maid supported herself at the doorframe and spoke between the heavy breathes, “Sir Yunho is here. He is calling you urgently.”

Mingi threw the towel on the bed and signalled her to go along with him. Meanwhile, he asked her if she knows the reason for his urgency but the words came out her mouth made his heart beat stop for a moment.

“It’s about Y/n.”

He inhaled sharply before almost running to the living room where Yunho was sitting in a messed up state and looking at the phone screen. Mingi took large steps towards the man sitting on the sofa and grabbed his collar to make him stand.

“where is Y/n? I told you to keep a watch on her then what went wrong?”

Yunho held the wrist and tried to calm him down but he himself was sick worried of the thing that happened earlier.

“Mingi, I was tracking her location as you told me but suddenly, she changed her direction to a different road and I quickly went there with Jongho as it was the way leading to the highway where all the deals happen at night.”

“Why was she going there?”

“I didn’t know why she suddenly went there but when I reached her last location, she was not there and I found her phone lying at the side of the road and I saw a number texted her to go there who pretended as you. She trusted the text that you were asking her to meet and you would be apologizing for everything. We need to do something.”

Mingi didn’t know what to think at the moment. Should he scold you for believing any number to be him? Or should he just shoot everyone here and there just to find you quickly? He brushed the damp hairs back and took heavy breathes to calm him down to come up with a better plan as panicking is not a mafia thing and he needs to think wisely so that you don’t get hurt.

Yunho got a call from one of his gang members and conversing over the call, he turned towards his other mate. He watched how he was being so impatient for his wife. Even if he doesn’t show any feelings but deep down, he loves his wife the most. He is just scared not to harm her in the flow of his mafia life. He wants to keep you as bubbly as the childhood Y/n but he is hurting you in the process.

“Hey.” Mingi looked up to his member’s call. “Jongho has tracked the message number id and it’s from the District-9 and it only means there is one person who could have kidnapped her. It’s Bangchan and his gang members to take revenge for the last month’s mission.”

“I will go there and take her back. I need to leave right now.”

“Are you stupid? If he attacks you then neither you are getting her back nor you will be safe.”

“You don’t tell me what to do now. I don’t care to spend time coming up with a plan. Y/n is in danger and she is scared.”

Even when Yunho tried to stop him, Mingi harshly pushed him away and sprint towards the garage to get into his black car. His black outfit blending with the cold dark night. Even the roads through which he was driving through were silent but he was in chaos. Many thoughts passing through his mind and he was just praying that you were safe.

“Please wait for a while…I’m coming, Y/n.”

He drove the car faster.

“Well my little angel, is the cut burning?”

Your teary eyes looked up to the voice who was calling you with an endearment but mocking at you. The leader of this new gang and you just know only his name, Bangchan as others were just calling each other with code numbers.

“Please…I want to go home…It’s hurting please…” you tried to pry yourself off from the ropes binding you to the chair but your weak body couldn’t go against it and the cuts over your hands and legs were burning with your every little movement.

“It would have been easy if you would have told me the details of your husband’s base but your stubbornness is only causing you pain so my boys had to torture you like this. So, are you willing to speak now?”

He gripped your jaw harshly and brought his face near to yours. You shook your head to avoid him but he held you tighter.

“TELL ME!”

“I don’t know…”

“I swear-“ Before he could finish both of you hear loud screaming and shootings outside. He stared at you and held the gun towards you when he heard footsteps nearing the basement.

Within the seconds, the door kicked open by Mingi. At first, he didn’t notice you but when his gaze fell on Bangchan, the latter smirked and looked below when he followed the gaze, he watched how helpless and tiredly you were tied to the chair.

what the fuck…

“So, the snipper of Ateez is here without the invitation. Oh, wife pulled you here but as far as I have heard, it doesn’t really matter to you what’s going to happen to her.”

“Shut up.” He hissed.

Mingi took one step and you screamed in pain. It pierced his ears and heart at the same time. He is used to your laugh, your smile, your shouts, your complains but your scream in pain is not the thing he ever wanted to hear. It’s too painful for him. Maybe, because he is the snipper so he is not used to hear anyone’s pain from so close. No, its because it’s you who is screaming.

“Take one more step. You will see more fresh new cuts.”

His eyes scanned your whole body, Your sleeves and edges of the dress had patches of blood. Earlier in hurry, you changed into this light peach colour dress but he didn’t expect it to be covered in dirt and blood later the night.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.” He again cut open a line of skin on your forearm. Your scream again filled the room, deafening every other sound to his ears. Mingi balled his fist and gritted his teeth.

You haven’t asked for his help. Why? It’s because you don’t trust him or you still couldn’t believe that he was there to save you not for his mafia business.

“Mingi…please help me…”

That was the only push he needed to run towards the leader and punched him. This caused Bangchan to lose his grip on the knife and gun. He wiped off the blood from the corner of his lip and glared towards Mingi and the latter again punched him on the floor. Satisfied, he crawled towards your chair and starts to untie the ropes and chain. You were trying to stay awake but the blood loss was making it hard. Prying everything off from you, he hugged your weak body and rubbed your back.

“It’s okay, Y/n. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

You didn’t reply but you were focusing on something, rather someone. Bangchan was pointing his gun towards Mingi’s back and when you realized, your eyes went big and you managed to switch the sides and as soon as your back facing the leader, he shot the bullet.

Who got shot?

You.

You leaned towards Mingi and held his biceps tighter. The pain was much worse than the previous cuts but somewhere you were feeling a relief that finally you would be at peace.

Bangchan ran away from the basement but that didn’t matter to the man who was in shocked to see you dying in his arms.

No. he can’t just let you die like this. He needs to apologize. He needs to make up for all the mistakes he has done.

He carried you to his car and Yunho followed him. Earlier four Ateez members followed Mingi and they helped him to attack on the District-9 basement.

“I will drive. Keep her awake until we reach hospital.”

Getting inside the car, he was calling out your name frantically and you have never seen him like this. For you.

“I want to sleep.”

“No no please. You will sleep but for a while please hold on. Don’t close your eyes please. Stay with me Y/n…”

Your cold hand reached to his cheeks and rubbed the rough skin.

“Are you crying for me? Am I being a bad wife?”

“No. you are the best wife ever someone wanted. It was me who was bad for neglecting you. Please stay with me…”

“I love you, Mingi.”

You closed your eyes and your breathing almost became faint. Mingi panicked at the situation but when Yunho pulled the car in front of the hospital. Without wasting any time, he skipped towards the emergency room with you in his arms. Of course, this was their personal Mafia Base Hospital and no one would dare to stop him.

Its been an hour when the doctor came out the room informed Mingi that you were in a critical situation as the bullet has damaged some area around it and your blood loss adding the worst possibilities to it. He was on the verge of losing control but after Yunho’s request, they let him to meet you.

You were sleeping peacefully. You wanted to sleep and now you are sleeping. He chuckled bitterly to this thought. He sat on the stool by the side of your bed and held your weak palm between his shaking ones.

“I’m sorry…”

Tears fell on the hold. Your breathings were very faint but as far as he could hear the sound, it was a little relief to him.

“I was scared, Y/n. I have seen you since the middle school and you were always the bright sunshine and I was the dark coldness. We never matched with each other but yet you smiled towards me.”

He sobbed before continuing, “When I got to know that you will be my wife. I had two feelings, one to be scared like how to take care of a family apart from the mafia life and the second, I was happy for the first time that I’m getting someone like you in my life. If the marriage was not important then I would have tried my best to keep you far away from someone like me, never to get involved with me.”

He paused for a moment to stare at you. Your beautiful face covered with cuts and now having antiseptic creams on them but he could feel the burning pain you had went through before. He caressed the side of your face and head. Smiling a little. Hoping for you to wake up and hug him and forgive him. He knows he doesn’t deserve the forgiveness so soon but just wants to see your lively face and smile once again. He needed to prove you his love and he swear he would do anything for you to see happy and not to be in this situation again. NEVER AGAIN.

“You are a treasure in my life whom I tried to protect so hard that the pressure broke it in the end. I destroyed you with my own hands. You are my queen but I caged you like a prisoner. Please wake up, Y/N. I can’t live without you. All these years, I have watched you from afar but when you are near, I am lost.”

He waited for you as if you are going to reply him back like other times. He wants you to shout at him, hit him, do whatever to make him realize your worth but he couldn’t afford to see you sleeping on a hospital bed, supported by some machines. Every drop of blood is precious than the most expensive ruby to him.

“I’m lost with you. I’m lost without you. For you I’m lost. I love you, Y/n. You are the only warmth in my cold life.”

‘I love you, Mingi.’ This was the last thing he heard faintly from you and your voice echoing inside his head.

“Please, don’t leave me. I want to change myself for you.” He planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand and tears falling from his eyes continuously.

You need to wake up or his coldness will make him lost in the void from where no one can ever bring him back. You are his first love and you can’t be the first reason to hate love.

I hope you liked it anon <3. I was really down while writing it coz about that post who insulted me for writing ffs so If the fic is not how you wanted then please wait for other fics, I will surely try to do better.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez mingi #ateez angst #ateez x you #ateez fic #mingi x reader #mingi ateez #mingi scenarios #mingi angst #mingi imagines

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abyssruler · 1 year

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like bread and pastries (you make me feel soft)

scaramouche x gn!reader

prince kunikuzushi can be described as mean at best, and a tyrant at worst. it comes as no surprise when years pass after his coming of age and he still hasn’t received any marriage proposals or even had a single lover. not that he would desire any of those small minded plebeians unworthy of his hand, but you, he decides, you might just be alright in his books. or — a prince and his baker.

fluff, soft scara (kinda), prince!scara, baker!reader, royalty au, bc i love the trope where the cruel and intimidating person is soft for one person and one person only

Prince Kunikuzushi’s love life—rather, his lack of one—has always been a topic of contention between the nobles of Inazuma. Some wonder if he will ever truly marry, what with his less-than-affable personality (which was, in high society terms, a sugarcoated way of saying he was an asshole). Others speculate that his mother might try to intervene and set him up with someone of reputable background.

What they don’t know—and if anyone ever found out, he would personally silence them to keep his secret safe—is that he is seeing someone. Just not someone they’d particularly find worthy or even interesting, but Kunikuzushi would beg to differ.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to eat the cookies until they’re at least cool enough?”

No one, not even his own mother or younger sister, would have the audacity to speak that way to him, let alone look him in the eye unflinchingly with a threatening spatula held in the air.

You’re covered in flour, from your hair to your clothes to the smear on your cheek that has his fingers itching to wipe it off. Your back is held straight, chin up and utterly unafraid to meet his stare head on as if he isn’t the heir to the shogunate and will one day rule the very country you reside in, as if his reputation for being all too happy to order someone’s tongue cut off for any insult, imagined or not, doesn’t even register in your head.

And if it’s you, well, then you have a perfectly good reason why.

Kunikuzushi drops the cookie he’d been in the middle of taking a bite out of into the tray, letting his displeasure known by crossing his arms and turning away from your chiding stare with a frown that could almost be called petulant.

“I pay you to make cookies for me, you know,” he grumbles, but you respond by huffing in amusement.

“Your mother pays her retainers, who then pay the right people, who then pay me to bake in the kitchens for the royal family and their guests.”

He raises his brow. “Practically the same thing.”

You pinch his arm for his sass, and any other person would have been met with a backhand across the face and an immediate order to be whipped fifty times in the public city square, would have had their hand cut off for even daring to touch, let alone harm, the Crown Prince of Inazuma, but you—

You make him so disgustingly soft. Like butter left to melt in the sun, and really, that’s what you are: a sun. Dazzling and blinding and so very unattainable.

“The point is, my prince, you can afford to have a little patience every now and then,” you tell him, lowering your spatula and placing it on the table.

“I’m a very patient person.” He smiles, the kind he knows unsettles you because, and he quotes, it gives you the heeby-jeebies to see something so fake and uncharacteristically sweet on his face.

“I doubt that,” you respond, poking the cookie with a finger to check if it’s cooled enough already. With a grin, you pick one up and bring it to his mouth. “Say aah.”

He looks at you blankly. “Not even a minute ago and you were scolding me for trying to eat one.”

“I’m a changed person.” You send him a cheeky smile, gesturing to the cookie still outstretched in front of his awaiting lips. “So?”

Kunikuzushi rolls his eyes. If anyone had dared to do something so childish, something so debasing and humiliating in front of him, coercing him to do something he would have never done in his life even under sword point, he would have had their heads cut off and fed to the monsters that lurk outside the city.

But since it’s you…

Fine.

He opens his mouth, face warm at the embarrassing display, and says, “Aah.”

You laugh in delight, bringing the cookie to his lips. The taste of dough and something that faintly reminds him of vanilla bursts in his tongue. It’s soft and chewy, like bread and melted chocolate. He isn’t one for overly cloying sweets, especially not the ones his mother so favors, but the ones you make are always somehow just right for him.

Leaning close, you eye him with anticipation. “How is it?”

He chews for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he ultimately decides that he’s been far too lax in reminding you of who he is and his reputation. “It’s passable.”

…Is he really so far gone that that is the best insult he could think of on the spot?

He could name a few adjectives that he’s prone to use on the daily. Disgusting, revolting, terrible, abhorrent, nauseating, repugnant—to name a few. But, somehow, his mouth refused to form the words, so he was left to say passable instead.

“If it’s passable, then I guess it’s not enough for your refined palate,” you feign distress, turning to the tray of cookies and making a move to grab them. “I suppose I’ll have to throw these away…”

For the second time that day, he does something he considers beneath him and rolls his eyes. “Stop the dramatics. The cookie was…” the muscles on his mouth hurt with the effort to say something not unkind, “…good.”

You beam, all crinkled eyes and lovely upturned lips. It makes his heart palpitate, probably because of how adorable abhorrent he finds the sight. “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he tells you, lest you suddenly think he actually likes you, never mind the fact that he was the one who hounded your attention and made the first move to kiss you all those months ago.

“Whatever you say,” you sing-song, leaning on the counter beside him and getting flour on his immaculate robes when your arm brushes up against his. “But I was wondering why you came to visit me today. You told me yesterday that you had pressing matters to attend to.”

Ah, right. The reason for his sudden appearance in Tenshukaku’s kitchens. The conversation with his mother yesterday repeats in his head.

“My mother wants me to find someone to marry as soon as possible.” Kunikuzushi looks at you, eyes wide and expectant.

Your eyes suddenly dim, looking down at your feet in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance. “Oh. Then… I wish you and whoever you choose as your spouse the best of wishes.”

A muscle in his brows twitch. He can’t believe you didn’t get the hint. Are you truly going to make him say it?

Something distinctly uncomfortable tugs at his chest when he sees you fiddling with your fingers.

Tch. Fine.

“It’s you,” idiot, he wants to add, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own. “I came here to tell you that you’re going to marry me.”

Your head snaps up, face a mixture of shock and hesitant hope. But then you grimace, “But you’re the prince, and I’m…”

He scoffs. “So? Once we’re married, any insult directed toward you is an insult to me as well. I’ll have them killed—if you want.” The last part is added only because he saw you go pale at the mention of killing people.

“Right, but…” you trail off, tilting your head to him and narrowing your eyes. There it is, that audacious spark that captured his attention from the beginning. “You’re supposed to ask me to marry you, not order me around.”

His face pinches.

“Well, my prince? Are you gonna ask me or not?” you tease.

The sheer nerve at your audacious request. If you were one of the mindless nobles that scurry about his mother’s court, he would have you whipped. Insolent, impertinent, brazen, and a mischievous smile that has him so utterly—

Whipped.

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and feeling his cheeks redden. His eyes meet yours unflinchingly despite the erratic beating of his heart.

“Will you marry me?”

One month and many arguments and severed tongues later, the Crown Prince Kunikuzushi is wed to you.

And if Yae Miko uses that opportunity to write a light novel fanfiction about the prince and his baker, well, she responds to Kunikuzushi’s angry letter with a signed copy of the book’s first edition and a note about how much the people loved it and how his reputation has skyrocketed because of it.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x reader #gn reader

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dottores · 1 year

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HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore is an asshole.

notes: monch i had fun w this one, this was not supposed to be the chapter but i had a spur of the moment idea that i had to run with.

AN INEXORABLE DEATH

“And what of the boy? The Eleventh seat has been empty long enough. It’s about time that Scapino has been replaced.”

Dottore pressed his lips together as Pulcinella pushed the subject for the fourth time, extending the meeting much longer than it needed to last. They had been there for hours already going back and forth about funding matters, upcoming missions, and the long term plan of when they would finally start going after the gnoses. Dottore was irritated--he had been irritated since early morning when he returned to his lab only to find that his experiment had failed--but now he was even more irritated because he should have just sent one of his damned segments to deal with this.

“We are not putting a child in the Eleventh seat,” Signora sighed, shaking her head as she looked back at Pierro. “Are we done here? I have business to attend to.”

“A child who survived the Abyss,” Pulcinella retorted sharply. “Can you say the same, Fair Lady? If I recall correctly, the abyssal energy was too intense for you to handle.”

Signora’s gaze darkened, lips twisting downward. Across from him, Dottore noticed how Pantalone's expression lightened, a smile gracing his lips as he watched the fight that was about to break out between the Fifth and Eighth.

Dottore thought this was all inconsequential. He had an important matter to bring up to Pantalone before he returned to his labs. It was nearly midday already--he had an entire research summary to get through before Lambda arrived early morning tomorrow and he wanted to get restarted on what he was doing last night to try to figure out where it had gone wrong. He didn’t care about the Eleventh seat or who would be…

Dottore’s thoughts trailed off as Pulcinella’s words echoed through his head, a child who survived the Abyss. Not many mortals could withstand the volatile energy in the Abyss… much less a child. Dottore’s interest was piqued, eyeing Pulcinella as he wondered where exactly he found the boy and what made him so different.

His mind raced with possibilities… Maybe he would be able to find out if he was brought into the higher ranks.

“Perhaps it would be worthwhile then,” Dottore spoke up, nearly rolling his eyes when he noticed how surprised Signora and Pulcinella looked at his interruption--he usually never spoke up in these meetings unless directly addressed. “The boy could be of use, I’d like to study why he was able to survive the Abyss.”

“You will not involve him in your twisted experiments, Dottore,” Pulcinella said. Dottore turned his attention to the other Harbinger, noting the defensiveness lacing his tone.

“I can involve any one of you in my twisted experiments, mayor, he is not exempt. Her Majesty has given me complete autonomy in my research should I think the results could give us the edge in the coming war. You would do well to remember that,” Dottore said coldly.

Pierro leveled a steady look onto each of them before shifting his gaze back across the long table to Capitano, “Enough. The Captain will observe the boy from afar, he will decide whether or not he is worthy of the Eleventh seat.”

Capitano nodded his head in response, “You will show me where the boy trains after the meeting, Pulcinella. I will have an answer by the end of the day so we can put this matter to rest.”

“If unruly behavior proves to be an issue after his appointment, I can always… adjust it,” Arlecchino said cryptically, the red x’s in her eyes burning as she looked over at Pierro, the corners of her lips turning upward.

“Keep your tricks to yourself, Arlecchino,” Pulcinella said. “I will keep the boy in line.”

“If you say so,” Arlecchino murmured as she leaned back in her seat. Next to her, Columbina let out an airy laugh as if she were amused by the whole situation.

“So be it,” Pierro finally said, waving his hand. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Dottore rose to his feet, getting Pantalone’s attention and nodding his chin toward the door before he turned on his heel to leave the room.

As soon as he was in the halls, he could breathe again. Dottore could see a winter storm brewing in the distance, the clouds gray and swirling dangerously over the peaks of the northern mountain range. The wind was already beginning to pick up, he could see the banners whipping around in the palace’s courtyard and new recruits struggling to push against the wind to get back into the palace from where they were training.

“I assume that nod meant you have something to say to me,” Pantalone’s voice was amused as he finally strolled out of the meeting, a thin smile gracing his lips as he eyed Dottore. “If this is about the decrease in your funding, there’s nothing I can do about that until we’ve dealt with the situation in Morepesok. The Triglav have somehow managed to rope the port masters into making trade with Port Ormos and Dornman Port more difficult for us. I’m leaving in a few days to handle it myself if Arlecchino’s spiders prove useless.”

Dottore frowned, he hadn’t gotten to all of the letters left for him at his desk, he had been too busy finalizing a report. “My funding has decreased?” he asked, incensed.

Pantalone’s smile tightened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in annoyance as he realized that Dottore hadn’t yet known about the funding issue. “Yes.”

“Why is the Triglav still a variable? I vouched for you so that they could no longer get in the way of my research,” Dottore demanded, voice cold and sharp. “You were supposed to take care of this issue years ago.”

Pantalone’s eye twitched. “I wish that ridding an organization of influence was as easy as you make it seem, much less one that has been embedded in Snezhnayan politics and society for several centuries,” he said dryly. “What is it that you wanted then, if it wasn’t about the funding?”

Dottore was not amused.

Pantalone exhaled, eyes glancing out to the courtyard for a second before motioning for Dottore to follow him. Dottore frowned, glancing once more at the brutal winds that were nearly tearing the banners off of their hooks as he followed after him.

As soon as he stepped outside, Dottore frowned. The coldness didn’t bother him too much but he didn’t like the way the wind and rain felt against his skin, stinging his cheeks over and over again. Pantalone did not seem affected by the weather, instead making his way down a path toward the overhang on the opposite side of the courtyard.

“Is it about them?” Pantalone asked as they walked. Dottore could barely hear him over the howling wind and he realized that was exactly why Pantalone had led them out there--to prevent unwanted ears from overhearing. His gaze drew back to where they had been standing, where Arlecchino and Brighella were finally stepping out of the meeting room. “Hm? Do you finally want me to look for them?”

Pantalone looked pointedly at Dottore’s thumb and Dottore caught onto what he was saying. His lips flattened in annoyance.

“No,” he said firmly. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the sharp, quick answer, Dottore nearly rolled his eyes as he waited for the incoming dig.

“You didn’t even pause to think… it’s been a few years, I’m sure the fourth phase has started by now… does she not reach out to you?” Pantalone smiled thinly, he was mocking Dottore. “Is that why it's such a sensitive subject?”

“She does,” Dottore said--he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to indulge Pantalone’s bait.

Every morning, every night, and usually during the day too, he wanted to add. The fourth phase had begun a few months back and she had immediately taken advantage of it, asking him all sorts of questions, telling him good morning and good night and asking how his day went. She was relentless, he would’ve respected the persistence had it not been driving him into a wall.

Dottore never responded.

Sometimes he was tempted when he found himself leaving the labs early and his arm was stinging lightly, indicating that she was reaching out again and an odd feeling began stirring in his chest, something akin to longing that he couldn’t afford to give in to. He had already let her affect too much and he couldn’t risk it getting worse.

He had been able to separate himself from her almost completely after receiving that word from her two years ago but his resistance was faltering now that the fourth phase had begun. No one had ever shown any sort of interest in him like this before and it was making him uncomfortable--he was used to being alone, only having his segments for company and even then, he sent them away most of the time. He didn’t like that someone else was trying to attach themself to him.

He needed to cut it off but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He caught himself toying with the words late at night: stop asking me questions, you are bothering me, I have no interest in a soulmate, I don’t need a soulmate, what is it going to take for you to finally understand that I don’t care for you? That I don’t want you? But every time he was going to bring himself to transfer the words to her, he preoccupied himself with something else--a project, a report, a random letter he remembered he never responded to. He knew deep down that he was just distracting himself so that he didn’t have to admit that he couldn’t send those words to her but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Fix this,” Dottore said, his voice harsh and cruel. His temper was waning and being pressed about his soulmate was forcing him to face an unpleasant reality--his own weakness. Pantalone looked taken aback at his words, Dottore continued, turning the topic back to the previous subject. “You understand who we are and you understand what you’re here to do. The only reason you were given the Ninth seat was to make the political scene on the homefront more manageable so we can finally make plays for the gnoses in other nations. Use the resources we’ve given you to do so or we will find someone that will.”

Pantalone stared at him, expressionless. The faux smile that usually graced his lips was gone, replaced by a cold, empty look, “I said I was handling it, did I not?”

Dottore only let out a quiet noise, one of dismissal, not bothering to spare him another look as he turned on his heel to walk back into the palace. What he had wanted from Pantalone could be handled another day--now, he just wanted to get back to his lab and finish his work before Lambda’s arrival because he knew that would be a headache in itself.

Walking down the hall, Dottore withheld the urge to slip off his mask and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He felt like a broken record, he was stuck in a cycle that he couldn’t tear free of and as much as he wanted to point the blame at her and the gods, he knew fault laid partly on himself as well.

Because he was weak. Dottore was a proud man, an arrogant one. He knew who he was and what he was capable of, he believed himself to be above mortal and yet he still laid chained to human emotion. It was hubris that blinded him into believing that he would not be affected by the unwelcome development of the thread years ago and it was hubris still that led him to be incapable of admitting that acceptance of the bond might logically be the best route to take.

He could not admit to himself that there was no way to sever the thread because that meant years of research were for naught. He could not admit to himself that he was better off accepting the bond because that meant that over a decade of denial and centuries of learning how to view his lack of a soulmate as a strength rather than a weakness were a waste.

He just couldn’t.

But that was the way of science, a part of him argued, a failed hypothesis must be adjusted into a new one. You adapt and continue.

“Doctor, there you are,” a familiar, whimsical voice hummed from behind him. “I was looking for you.”

Dottore glanced over his shoulder, suspicion pricking at each and every one of his cells as his eyes fell upon his fellow Harbinger.

Nothing ever good came from being sought out by the Damslette.

“What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Columbina said softly, “I just wanted to see it up close, that’s all.”

Dottore’s brows furrowed beneath his mask, trying to figure out what she meant, but he felt cold as Columbina reached out, gloved fingers brushing against the red thread that only he and his soulmate were supposed to be able to see.

“It’s so bright,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one this bright before, your bond must be strong.”

Dottore’s lips parted as if to speak but no words left them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say--did he want to demand to know how she could see the thread? Or deny that the bond was strong? He hadn’t even spoken a word to the girl, how could the bond be strong?

“You see it?” he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him as always. In all of his research, he had never heard of someone being able to see other peoples’ threads before.

Columbina only smiled, face turning up toward him but her eyes were still slid shut peacefully. “I see everything,” she replied, voice airy and cryptic. “The stars and the sky, all of the ties that bind, I can see it all.”

Dottore felt unsettled. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt unsettled before but Columbina wasn’t even looking at him, not really at least, but somehow he felt as if she could see right through the mask he wore, peering deep into the soul that he denied to see him wholly and he felt stripped and bare of all of his armor. He had known that the Damslette caused a lot of unnerving feelings throughout their ranks, her presence tended to make their subordinates and even some of the lower-ranked Harbingers uncomfortable, but he had never experienced it for himself, not like this.

“I would like to meet her when she comes here,” Columbina finally said before continuing down the hall. “Have a good day, doctor.”

Dottore stared after her and then down at where the thread was tied around his thumb, too bewildered to even realize that she had said when and not if.

You figured that he was just busy--the same thing you told yourself whenever he ignored your goodnight tugs and good morning tugs. He was simply too busy to respond to you whenever you asked how his day was, when you told him good morning and good night, when you wished him luck with whatever he was working on.

You tried not to let it deter you.

He was just busy, that was all.

You let out a sigh as you sat down at your father’s old desk. The wood was dusted over and the papers were scattered around just as he left it. No one had dared enter the room since his death three years ago--not a maid, not your mother, not even yourself. This was your first time setting foot in his office since the last time he had called you in there himself.

It was a bit messier than he usually kept it, you noticed that his coat stand was knocked over sideways in the furthest corner of the room and there were a few coins strewn against the floor next to it. His coat was still dangling off it--if only barely--and your throat felt tight as you rose to your feet, making your way over to the coat.

You took in a shaky breath as you reached out to grab it.

As soon as your fingers brushed the wool, you drew back.

Maybe you should just leave, you thought to yourself, glancing back to the door, considering just trying again another day. You thought you had been ready--it had been three years since his death, you thought you had been ready to start clearing things out of his office. The court officials had been gracious as to not rush you into it, giving you all of the time you needed to mourn and process his death, but you knew that the clock was ticking. Your father was dead and there had been many promotions in the past few years to keep the growing dissent in the city at bay, more space was needed, your father’s office was needed.

You exhaled again slowly, grabbing the coat so you could fold it and place it in a pile at the door for you to bring back to your room, but as soon as you got hold of the coat, you smelt him. Even after all of the years, it still smelt like him. Your throat felt swollen and your vision blurred as you clutched your father’s jacket close to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him there in the room with you, patting your back as he told you to sit down and help him with his paperwork.

You used to hate it, rolling your eyes and grumbling whenever he passed you some of the documents to read over and summarize for him to lighten his workload. He claimed that it was good practice for when you took over from him eventually and maybe he was right, but you only ever cared about your words and learning more about them because you wanted to get to know your soulmate better.

You regretted it. Now your father was gone and you were left with a soulmate who didn’t seem to give a shit about your existence. And it had all been so sudden, the same day you had turned down his request for you to come to his office so you could go to the gardens and read. You had noticed he looked a bit under the weather but you figured he was just exhausted from the long day at court he had the day before.

And then he was dead, just like that.

One of the officers of the city police found him collapsed on his floor. The city’s head coroner claimed it was a heart attack. They said that nothing could’ve been done to prevent it. You weren’t so sure, all you could think about were the what-ifs and the could’ve beens.

What if you had gone with him when he asked? What could’ve happened if you had been there? Would you’ve been able to get him help? Or would you just have had to witness it happening first hand?

It was all you could think about, all the time. You rarely left your room, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit in the library because it just made you sad, reminding you of all of the hours you spent there after blowing off your father to figure out what some stupid word on your forearm meant.

You were lonely. You were so goddamn lonely that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself besides mull over all of the possibilities. You felt like there was a hole ripping through your chest, an ache that never went away. You didn’t know if it ever would go away.

You took in a ragged breath, biting back a sob as you tried to calm yourself down. You failed.

You thought you might hate your soulmate. Or maybe not hate, resent was a better word for it. So much of your life had been centered around him, influenced by him--your whole upbringing and being taught to hide such an integral part of yourself was because he was in Snezhnaya; your lack of friends growing up was because you were forced to hide the fact that you had a soulmate and obviously, there must be something wrong with you if Celestia didn’t bless you; you spent hours on hours, days on days in the library trying to understand him for when the two of you finally met; and even now, you tried to distract yourself from the damning reality of your family and the mess it had become by trying to talk to him and he ignored you.

He ignored you.

There were only so many times you could convince yourself that he was just busy. How busy could he be if he couldn’t even say hello, if he couldn’t tell you good morning, if he couldn’t tell you goodnight or tell you how his day was when you asked. You thought maybe that he wasn’t receiving his words but you had done so much research trying to figure out if that was a possibility and there had been no known instances of it.

He was ignoring you--it was the logical, rational answer but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, you couldn’t face the truth because then it really did mean you wasted your life focusing on someone that probably didn’t even care about you.

Calm down, you told yourself. Calm down.

But it was hard.

You felt so alone all the time. You had no friends. Your mother was constantly busy with court affairs. Your stepfather kept Sylvie and Elliot busy, you barely even saw them in passing anymore. The only one to really reach out to you to see how you were doing was your grandfather but even he was run to the ground with his duty as warden of the Black Cells.

You tried to distract yourself by trying to make conversation with him, your soulmate, but it was futile. He never responded. No matter how hard you tried.

Your hands were shaky as you finally let your father’s coat drop from your chest, fingers trembling as you folded the coat to place it in the box you had set up near the door. You had to figure out what all you were going to bring back to your room--you figured you needed to get all of the papers out of here. You didn’t know if any of them had sensitive information and you didn’t want to risk anything falling into the wrong hands.

You tried to focus as you dropped down to your hands and knees but your mind felt muddled. As you started stacking them in a neat pile, you caught sight of your father’s bookshelf from the corner of your eye. Right in the middle was a familiar set of books with a silver and gold binding, one that you hadn’t seen since you were a child.

Longing, sadness, guilt--you couldn’t tell what the feeling stirring up your chest was as you rose back to your feet to make your way over to the bookcase, body moving on autopilot. A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the six volumes lined up of Princess Mina and the Fallen Nation, the old book collection that your father used to read to you before bed before your stepfather had arrived in Fontaine and your father moved back to the city.

Even years later, he always laughed with your grandfather over how you used to force him to read the fifth volume about the argument between the Princess Mina and the samurai over and over and over again, to the point that he knew how to recite it word for word. Your mother scolded him every time--said the series was by no means acceptable for a child--but he only ever winked at you and promised that this would be the last time. A lie, of course, and your mother knew it, if the way she rolled her eyes had anything to say about it.

You wondered if he kept the set lined up to remind him of the good days--the days before your stepfather.

You reached for the fifth volume, your smile fading a bit when you noticed that it was lighter than you expected. Your brows furrowed as you opened the book, realizing that the majority of the pages had been cut out in the shape of a square--a hidden pocket to hide treasures, just like how the Princess had done in the sixth volume to hide her plans from the samurai.

Your chest felt heavy as you reached for what was laying inside: a letter in your father’s handwriting, stained with faded droplets of blood, and a Fatui insignia.

“This is getting out of hand.”

Dottore looked up as a familiar voice rang loud and icy throughout the lab. His eyes drew up to a familiar form, one identical to his own--the Lambda segment had finally arrived. Dottore placed his pen down on the lab table, raising his eyebrows as he waited for him to continue.

“The other segments are out of control, not that you would know considering you sent them away for me to deal with,” Lambda told him, placing down the bag he was carrying on the lab table as he stood across from Dottore. “The younger segments are haywire over the thread, they haven’t calmed down once since it first appeared and now even some of the older segments are starting to become more aggravated--Delta and Rho are pushing on behalf of Iota and Gamma. Epsilon has made his opinion well known since he got word of it. Even Theta has started to ask more questions. I will not deal with it anymore.”

“You will do whatever I order you to do, Lambda. Don’t forget what you are,” Dottore warned. “Sit down, I called you here to report on your research not to hear your opinion.”

“Is that not why I was created?” Lambda did not back down, not a hint of emotion seeped through the vacant expression painted on his face. Red eyes void of any sort of feeling or weakness, any sort of hesitation. “An objective perspective, untainted by human vices and folly to prevent us from falling victim to them so it does not affect our goals. I am telling you that this needs to be handled. Now. It is already impeding our research. We’ve lost over ten years of progress because of this distraction.”

Most of the segments had learned to repress human emotions over time--some were never able to, like the younger segments and Theta, while others like Delta, Rho and Zeta, had decent control over their emotions but still often fell victim to outbursts of rage and irritation.

Lambda did not have to learn as he had none.

Dottore valued all perspectives when it came to his research. He created versions himself frozen in time at some of the most formative moments of his life: being chased from his village, being accepted into the Akademiya as a scholar, being outcast from the Akademiya, brought into the Fatui as a recruit and then his promotion to Harbinger. A version of himself too young to fully understand the cruelty of the world and a version of himself whose mind developed and adapted over time. A version of himself with too much humanity and a version of himself without any.

It had been difficult influencing the essence of the Irminsul branches to create the Epsilon and Lambda segments as he was not simply freezing a previous mindset of himself in time and placing it into a vessel. He had to engineer the fundamental aspects of each of the cores that housed the consciousness of the segments to manipulate the way that they did--or did not--process emotions and he had to be careful enough so that it was still inherently him but different, allowing him a new perspective in his research that was more than just him frozen in time at a younger point of his life.

It had taken several attempts and many failures but three centuries ago he had finally been able to create Lambda, a segment who cared for nothing but the expansion and success of his experiments, his very existence laid upon his ability to bring their research to new ends without the shackles of humanity binding him because so much as Dottore liked to believe he was able to extinguish any and all emotion he might feel, he knew logically it was impossible and he had to factor that in when it came to results. The Lambda segment had an objectivity in his perspective that none of the other segments, or Dottore himself, were able to obtain--influenced by the past and repressed emotions, even if it was subtly enough that it could not be seen on the surface.

Epsilon had been created later--the antithesis of the Lambda segment, a segment that could process humanity on a level beyond what Dottore or any of the other segments were capable of. Dottore hadn’t seen the benefit in creating a segment like that but the Zeta segment had pushed for it, saying that it was unwise to create one extreme without another to balance it out, it led to biased results. Dottore had a feeling that the Zeta segment was simply sick of having to take care of the Kappa segment but there was no fault in his logic.

Thus, half a century after the creation of the Lambda segment, the Epsilon segment came into existence.

“I am handling it,” Dottore said sharply. “Sit down and report.”

“This is my report,” Lambda, unlike the other segments, did not back down when Dottore made demands of him that he did not agree with. It was Dottore’s own fault, he had given Lambda authority over the other segments because of his impartiality and it made him arrogant. “My research has been disrupted and I will not be able to continue it until this situation is properly handled. Thus, I’m requesting all of the information you have on the distraction so I can handle it myself.”

Dottore’s lips thinned, gaze steadying on Lambda. “No.”

Lambda raised his eyebrows, “No?”

“You are a segment, not a mimic,” Dottore said, poison lacing his tone. “I said no. Return to Sumeru and continue your research. No harm is to come to the girl, we don’t know how it will affect us.”

Lambda stared at him and Dottore knew exactly what the segment was thinking.

It won’t affect me.

“It should not affect you at all unless you’ve become attached to the mere idea of her, that’s the only way the loss of the bond can affect someone who has not met their ‘soulmate’,” his voice gave way to no emotion but Dottore knew it was an accusation, that him throwing out the word soulmate was meant to be a mockery, a dig at the other segments, a dig at him.

“You created me to make sure we continue to do what is best for our research,” Lambda continued coldly. “I will do just that. Handle it or I will. You are doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do and it is impeding our progress.”

Dottore inhaled sharply, his temper spiking--he was barely able to control himself, tone venomous as he spoke, “And what exactly is that? What am I doing, Lambda?”

“Getting attached,” Lambda said. “You’re allowing yourself to be weak and that in turn is making all of us weak. The weakness is inhibiting our ability to make headway on our research and if you can’t even see that then…”

Lambda trailed off, he didn’t have to finish what he was going to say, Dottore already knew. If you can’t even see that then maybe you’re too far gone already.

“Get out,” Dottore said, restraining the blizzard of emotions that were whirling inside him. Fury, not only at Lambda and the blatant disrespect but also at himself because he remembered the nights he prepared to tell her that enough was enough and he had no desire to have a soulmate and he remembered all of the times that instead of transferring the words to her, he instead chose to preoccupy himself with a new project. “The only one impeding my research right now is you. If you weren’t going to bring anything worthwhile, you should have remained in Sumeru.”

Lambda was right, Dottore had allowed himself to get attached to the faceless figure on the other side of his thread even after all of the insurances he had put in place to prevent this from happening. He didn’t even know how it happened, he had been certain that after he had received that word from her, he was done with it all. It had to have been subtly over the course of the past decade and a half, slow enough for it to creep in, in a way that he couldn’t notice on his own, in a way that he could still keep himself convinced that he had no attachment to her--like a slow, inevitable death.

Distantly, he realized that he wouldn’t have even cared about the word cursed showing up on his forearm to begin with unless he had gotten attached to her. It should have had no effect on him.

“Once she learns what you are, what we are, she will leave anyway. You know that. No one wants to be bonded with a monster.”

Lambda didn’t say anything else as he left the lab and as soon as the door shut behind him, Dottore’s shoulders slumped and he pressed his head against his hands, elbows resting on the table as he massaged his face, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

Severing the thread was not possible.

Are you sure? A part of him questioned, or had you just not been looking into it hard enough because deep down you didn’t want it severed?

Dottore’s lips twisted. That was not the case. He had tried. He had spent years researching it, trying to figure out what could be done. Not only for his own sake but for hers too.

If you can’t sever through science then…

His arm stung, a familiar feeling that he had grown used to over the past few months. He didn’t even want to look down and see what she was asking him. It was late--if he had to guess, it was probably either the daily goodnight or she had felt his volatile emotions and wanted to know if he was okay.

How was your day?

Dottore shut his eyes, finally making a decision.

If you can’t sever through science then it must be done emotionally.

The city was cold--there was a winter storm blowing south from the northern lands that had the windows creaking and rattling. The fireplace burned hot on the other side of the room but somehow you still felt cold, staring down at your food as you waited for your grandfather to finish reading the letter that your father had left for you and the insignia that he had stashed with it.

You didn’t know what to do. You had sat on the letter for days now, reading it over and over and over again until the words were branded on your brain and you could recite them without even having the letter in front of you.

Your father spoke of blasphemy, sacrilege--a crime that would have your stepfather thrown beneath the city into the black cells for the rest of his life, a crime that could have your siblings cast out from the highest tiers of the Fontaine court, shunned and outcast for their father’s transgressions against the court and the gods.

Faking a bond. Being a Snezhnayan infiltrator.

You had heard rumors of the first before--long forgotten techniques of ancient Snezhnayan strigoi who masked as mortals and toyed with mens’ minds to lure in their prey. You thought that they were just old wives’ tales to scare young girls and boys but your father seemed certain in his letter that your stepfather was somehow faking the bond with your mother and you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe it was true or not… because then that meant you life was ruined not because your mother had finally found happiness in her soulmate, even if you did not like him, but instead it meant that he was manipulating her mind.

“There is not enough proof,” your grandfather finally said, knuckles tight and tense around the parchment as he read what you believed was your father’s last words before his death. “If we present this to Her Excellency, it will be a challenge of our word against his. He will have your mother’s support and her family’s, the President of the Research Institute will back them and he’s gained a lot of influence throughout the city with the recent energy developments.”

Energy developments, you thought bitterly, they were only a temporary solution to the apparatus crisis happening throughout the city but even if the solution was only temporary, it eased the stress on the civilians and elite alike, and it made them view him in a better light. As if the whole crisis wasn’t his fault to begin with.

Your lips twisted, grip on the hem of your shirt tightening, “The Commissioner will side with us,” you said. “Wrio is going to take over soon. I can talk to him.”

Wriothesley. He was the one you were meant to marry in the coming years. You didn’t talk to him often, both of you were always busy with your own duties, but you had always gotten along well enough when you were together. He was born with a black mark--a dead soulmate. You thought he was a good man but he was always sad. People thought it was a miracle that he could even function being born with a dead soulmate but you didn’t think it was so surprising. He never got to have a soulmate, he never knew what he lost and that was what usually killed: knowing that you could’ve had it all, or even having it all, but then it being ripped away from you.

“People are not happy with the city police,” your grandfather said. “Elites and civilians.. I don’t know how much help the Commissioner’s support would be.”

Your head hurt. You shut your eyes briefly. There were five positions of influence in Fontaine, each of them passed down through the nation’s five most elite families--the Chief Justice, the Warden of the Black Cells, Commissioner of the City Police, Chief of the Gendarmerie, and the President of the Research Institute, who also handled the cities infrastructure. Your grandfather was the current Warden and his closest friend was the Commissioner… but the influence of the positions was not uniform, especially over the past ten years.

The Chief Justice was always the most popular of the five positions--Neuvillette was the current one and you knew he would remain neutral should things escalate. He was the one that controlled everything--the Hydro Archon’s voice, her eyes and ears whenever she didn’t join him in court. Everyone wanted to be close to him because they thought that him viewing them in a more positive light would be the difference between freedom and the rest of their life spent in the Black Cells. They were wrong, of course, Neuvillette wouldn’t let personal relationships cloud his judgment but you couldn’t really blame them for trying.

The Warden was always an unpopular but powerful position, many of the elite and especially the civilians feared him, knowing that should they slip up once, their lives would be in his hands. The Commissioner of the City Police’s popularity has been on a steadily downward trend since rebellion began stirring in the city. The civilians thought that the police were too harsh on them but the elites thought that they’re not being harsh enough, which is why the epidemic of dissent kept spreading. They were resented on all sides.

On the other hand, the Chief of the Gendarmerie was only becoming more popular, your uncle held the position, but you thought it was stupid because the only reason why he was so popular was because he had nothing to do in the city. There was no reason for the civilians and the elite to hate him because he dealt with policing the countryside--which usually only consisted of dealing with rogue hillichurls and the occasional band of treasure hoarders. If the Gendarmerie had to handle Fontaine’s population like the city police did, they would be just as unpopular.

And the President of the Institute had been unpopular for nearly a decade--he was blamed for the energy crisis, rightfully, but he and his officers found that temporary solution so his popularity skyrocketed because the people no longer had to deal with unstable heating during the winter and the city’s power going in and out once every few hours. You figured the popularity spike would disappear once the apparati failed again but that didn’t help you now.

Your throat spasmed as you swallowed. “I don’t understand,” you said. “Are we just supposed to let this go? He’s Fatui, he’s lying to my mother, and he killed father because father started asking questions. Am I supposed to just share a dinner table with him and act like everything is fine?”

“We have no proof,” you went quiet as your grandfather leveled a steady gaze onto you. “We can accuse him as much as we want. We can show Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon your father’s letter and the insignia but when it comes down to it it will be a battle of words, and we will lose. The only witness that might’ve been able to convince the Hydro Archon is dead.”

You thought you might cry. You could feel the tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You thought that by bringing this to your grandfather would be the answer to all of your questions, that he would know what to do and they would be able to throw that weasel of a man beneath the city, let him rot in the Black Cells.

“If we accuse him of being Fatui, the Hydro Archon will act,” you hissed. “I’m not stupid, I know that this all has escalated because the north is planning a rebellion against the gods-”

“Quiet.”

“She will do something,” you finally said, catching the anger in your grandfather’s eyes as you spoke of the taboo subject. “She hunts down anyone affiliated with Snezhnaya, if he is accused of being a Fatui spy, she’ll act.”

“Neuvillette will intervene,” your grandfather shook his head. “He knows that if the Hydro Archon tries to imprison him without a proper trial, it will turn the elite against her. They are already nervous, if they see her targeting one of their own, it will rip their security blanket off. He will make sure that this is taken to trial and if it is taken to trial then we will lose. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you said but your voice was thick and you weren’t sure if you were angry or upset. You rose to your feet, food untouched. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before you were walking out of the dining room toward the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you let yourself crumble--sitting on the ground with your knees tucked to your chest and your body trembling. You thought it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that your father was gone and it wasn’t fair that your stepfather had done it and he was just going to get away with it. Fontaine was supposed to be the city of justice but corruption ran rampant throughout the streets. You were sick of it.

You exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself down, instead focusing on your forearm. You hated that even though he clearly wanted nothing to do with you, you still turned to him whenever you were breaking down. You hated even more that it worked every time.

How was your day?

You knew you wouldn’t get a response. You never did. Sometimes you liked to imagine what he might be doing--buried in research and experiments, facing the frustrations of failure left and right. Realistically, he was just ignoring you. You had come to terms with that. But still, you enjoyed indulging yourself in the delusions sometimes.

But this time was different, there was a spike of emotion from him--anger--and you rarely ever felt anything from him, much less something this strong seemingly in response to your question. Maybe he had a bad day, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly, but then your arm stung. It was subtle, something you barely even noticed but you knew what it was.

Your gaze turned down to your forearm and as your eyes fell to the words branded on your skin, your heart sunk.

Enough. I have no interest in having a soulmate.

You stared, numb, at the words, waiting for them to change, wondering if you were reading them wrong. You knew you weren’t and you thought that you shouldn’t be as upset as you were but your whole chest felt as if it was caving in on itself, you felt like no matter how fast or deep you breathed in, none of the air was getting to your lungs.

You knew this, you told yourself, trying to calm yourself down again. You had known this deep down. It was inevitable. He had been ignoring you for months--longer than that, really, ever since you were a child and you would tug your thread before bed, waiting for him to tug it back. But you supposed it didn’t matter how much you might’ve known that it was true because you never expected him to be so… blunt about it, and you couldn’t help but hold out hope that maybe those delusions you fancied so much might prove to be true

You thought, maybe, that a part of you might have died right there.

Rejection. In everything you had read about soulmates, you didn’t think you had ever heard of someone being rejected by theirs. You stared at your thread, you wondered if it would sever at his words, if it would crumble to dust or blacken. You waited but it never happened, it still was tied around your finger, bright and leading to the north.

To the north.

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening as realization struck. Your body moved on auto pilot as you rose to your feet to leave the bathroom but your hands still shook, teeth clenched together as you tried to fight through the pain of being rejected by the one person in the world meant to accept you. Your grandfather turned his head when he heard the bathroom door slam hard behind you but before he could voice his disapproval, you were speaking.

“If proof is the issue, I’ll get it myself,” you said, voice stronger than you expected it to be as you told your grandfather your plan. “I’ll go north and I’ll get the evidence, and then we can throw that murderer in the cells beneath the city and bring justice to father.”

RBS APPRECIATED!

#dottore x reader #genshin x reader #dottore smut #genshin smut #dottore x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

1K notes · View notes

wave2tyun · 2 months

Text

killshot | ☆

pairing: taehyun x fem!reader

genre: spy!au, enemies to lovers, fake dating, slow burn, suggestive, a bit of fluff and angst

summary: your life seemed to have taken a turn for the worse the minute kang taehyun stepped foot into the spy agency you worked at. wanting to take on a challenge to prove yourself worthy of the top position, your plans were turned upside down with his addition to the mission. you didn’t think things could get any worse, until they stated one clear, mandatory condition: the two of you had to pretend you were a couple.

warnings: lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, the reader gets tipsy (twice), mentions of death, guns and bombs (there’s nothing explicit though), the presence of an annoying drunk man | let me know if i missed something!!

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this was just a silly little idea that i got during a car drive asdbfhj whenever i repost fics i always kind of get the urge to say "omg this was one of my favorite fics to write" - i think it's because i end up getting so attached to the little universes that i create and then look back on them fondly; with this one, i really really mean it when i say those words (maybe because it's also longer). when i first posted it i actually felt like i gave birth cause it got SO MUCH LONGER than i anticipated ASBHJDS

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

"no."

"hear me out-"

"i'm not hearing anybody out. i'm doing this alone- just like we intended from the start" you hissed.

"y/n, we went over this already" irene pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing "the enemy has changed their plan of action, so we need to change it too. it's not safe for you to go alone anymore"

"that i can understand. but him-" you pointed an accusatory finger to the man in front of you “why does he need to be involved in this? there have to be other suitable agents for this mission”

“trust me, darling, if i could do this alone, i would” he replied bitterly, rolling his eyes.

“listen you two- these orders came directly from the head office. they want you to work on this, not anybody else- and there’s nothing that i can do to change this.” irene crossed her arms. she was completely tired of the way you were both behaving- just like two kids continuously throwing sand in each other’s eyes.

“fine.” you gave in, biting your tongue and swallowing your pride. there was no use being stubborn if the head office was involved, the best thing you could do in this situation was to choose being the bigger person.

irene raised an eyebrow at taehyun, waiting for his response as well.

“fine-“ he repeated after you, throwing daggers towards your direction. you were glad to know the feeling of disgust was mutual.

“finally” irene exclaimed, letting out a big sigh “took you long enough. here’s the modified plan papers. remember- there’s no way i’m allowing you to back out anymore”

you took the small stack of papers from her hands, skimming through the text. gather the gadgets and weapons, bla bla bla, disarm the bomb hidden at the event, bla bla bla, protect france’s president, bla bla bla, disguise yourself as a couple- wait.

“are you fucking kidding me- am i reading this right?” you spat out, eyes almost popping out at the sight. you went over the passage again and again, hoping that you had simply misread it- but there it was, black ink on white paper, the word written clear as day: “couple”

irene massaged her temples with her hands “in order for this mission to be carried out with ease, we need you to act as a cou-“

“no” you both said in unison, cutting her off.

you side-eyed taehyun, somehow feeling offended that he also declined the proposal right away. you knew you had your reasons to not accept that condition- but why was he saying “no”?

kang fucking taehyun- his name alone felt like poison on your tongue.

but it wasn’t like your hatred towards him was unjustified- in fact, you couldn't remember if there was even one second- let alone one day- where him just breathing didn’t make you feel like plotting murder. one day, he just strutted into the agency, acting like he owned the place. he was quick to gain respect from his superiors, his charms alone making it easier for him to receive more complicated missions- and better equipment. you being mad was an understatement. why? just because he was a man, he had it all easy. he has been in the agency for just one year, and he has already surpassed you in ranks, all of the hard work you’ve been putting in for years going down the drain.

you’ve been relentlessly trying to regain your honorable place in the agency. kang taehyun was quick to catch on to your little act, and he wasn’t one to back off easily either- resulting in the two of you being at each other’s necks every second. you viewed this mission as what could have possibly been ‘your redemption arc’. the universe somehow always found a way to get him involved in your business. but this time, you weren’t gonna let him steal your spotlight- not again. you needed to find a way to secure the number one place in rankings like you used to, and you were willing to do whatever it took to feel that glory one more time, even if that meant cooperating with the kang taehyun.

“if you die, i’ll kill you” you hissed.

“big words coming from someone who stands on a chair to reach the top shelves” he fought back, unfazed by your threat. your mouth opened at this accusation, when did he even catch you doing that?

“you piece of-“

“enough” irene sighed, moving to stand between the two of you “you’re gonna bring back my migraines if you keep on acting like that. can’t you treat each other as normal people do? just this once- please? you’re only making this harder for yourselves”

you sighed, rubbing the nape of your neck. irene was a sweetheart, she didn’t deserve to be the victim of your petty fight “when do we have to start?”

her eyes seemed to light up a bit, relieved by your change in attitude “as soon as possible” she skimmed through her notes again “the earliest flight is in 3 days- how about it?”

“that’s okay for me” you said. you silently glanced over at taehyun, who rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms “guess i’m in too”.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

5 hours.

that was the amount of time you had to endure sitting next to taehyun on the flight. you could handle this, you tried to tell yourself. you’ve been in much worse situations during some of your missions. in the end, it didn’t necessarily mean that the two of you had to interact during that time. you could just sleep the whole flight away and not have to exchange a word with taehyun once.

wrong.

kang taehyun just seemed to love seeing you suffer, in any way, shape or form. it had you seriously contemplating whether he was some kind of sadist. you thought you could at least go through check in and security without any unpleasant incidents happening, but you were wrong- so painfully wrong.

you arrived two hours early to the airport, wanting to get done with the whole process as fast as possible then hide from taehyun at the food court until it was time for you to board the plane. however, two minutes after you took your place in the check-in line, your peace was disrupted.

“you’re early- were you that eager to see me, sweetheart?”

your eye was twitching at the sound of the nickname. you didn’t even have to turn your head to the right to know who was next to you.

“why did it have to be you here at this hour?” you grumbled.

“crazy- it’s almost as if we’re on the same flight” he rolled his eyes “don’t even think about going to the back of the line- we have the same last name on the tickets so we shouldn’t go separately anyway”

you loosened your grip on the suitcase and bit your cheek, it was like he knew your exact thoughts at the moment. the whole thing was all too corny for you- why did the company have to change your name and give you new documents? just because you were ‘a couple’ didn’t mean that you had to be married as well.

security didn’t exactly go smooth either- as if the whole process wasn’t already stressful enough. you should have been suspicious the moment taehyun let you sit in front of him at the line. at that moment, you just brushed it off and thought nothing of it, but when the metal detector went off as you were walking through- that’s when it all clicked.

that little fucker slipped one of his rings in your pocket.

a string of unholy words was running wildly in your mind as the security patted you down to search for any suspicious items. you wished you could jump on him and wipe that grin off his face. he somehow felt the need to embarrass you even further once the ring had been found. he put on a charming smile as he rubbed the nape of his neck, looking up at the security lady “so sorry for my wife- she tends to be quite clumsy, i told her before to check well before walking away from me”

the lady melted down in an instant, letting out a bunch of ‘it’s okay’ before handing you back the ring. he felt the need to make such a scene and for what? to feed his ego? you didn’t bother to wait until he was through with security as well. you gathered your things from the tray as fast as you could, storming past all the other people to get further away from him.

you browsed all the shops (sometimes even hiding in the dressing rooms) until you couldn’t avoid taehyun any longer. you didn’t talk to him once you met up again, even though you knew that it didn’t affect him anyway. nonetheless, taehyun ensured that your day would have a cherry on top- by stealing the one and only window seat.

and you?

you made sure to spill your water on him during turbulence.

that seemed to be enough to make him stop bothering you throughout the flight. he slept away as you played sudoku on your phone, too paranoid to fall asleep yourself in case he would wake up with new ideas in mind.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

after making sure that your bag smacked taehyun’s head when you took it from the upper storage, you both went to retrieve your luggage then headed out to find a taxi and go to your accommodation.

valets, chandeliers, grand paintings adoring the walls, the hotel seemed quite fancy. you weren’t really used to this kind of treatment from your agency, it was the least they could do for all the headaches you were going to endure throughout the mission.

the receptionist handed you the small paper sleeve containing the key cards. you furrowed your brows as you opened it, peering inside. there were 2 cards in there, but for the exact same hotel room. you instantly expressed your confusion “why is there just one r-“ taehyun kicked your foot, continuing to smile at the receptionist as you bit your tongue to hold back a scream. “is there anything else i can help you with?” she inquired.

“i’m pretty sure that’s it, thank you” taehyun answered before you could open your mouth to speak. he took hold of your arm, flashing the receptionist another fake smile before dragging you along with him towards the elevator.

“don’t touch me” you broke free from his grip “what the hell was that about?”

taehyun pressed the floor number on the keypad “are you that fucking dense? he sighed exasperatedly “we’re a couple- remember? we need to act like one, so stop having these unnecessary slip-ups”

‘stupid cover’ you cursed in your mind the person who had been in charge for outlining the plans for your mission. out of all the possible lies they could have made you hold on to- this is what they went for. it was almost like they did this on purpose to annoy you.

ding.

you took hold of your suitcase again, following behind taehyun as you searched for your room “besides- the hotel isn’t scruffy this time, their budget seems to be pretty high for once. so, they might have booked us a suite, not just a single room” he continued, trudging the door open.

your feet were frozen, not moving an inch from the doorway “taehyun- this is not a fucking suite” you snarled, slowly turning your head in his direction.

“why are you talking as if it’s my fault?” taehyun snapped back. he entered the room, bumping his shoulders against yours as you refused to go further in.

“well if you hadn’t been so quick to silence me at the reception- maybe this wouldn’t have been a problem” you pushed your suitcase in, putting your hands on your hips.

“and risk blowing our cover? yeah- what a great plan that would have been” he huffed.

“there’s no way i’m sharing a bed with you” you hissed

“don’t worry- it’s not a pleasure for me either sweetheart. it’s either sleeping on the floor- or with me. your choice”

taehyun didn’t seem like he would ever consider giving up his spot on the bed- but neither did you. you weren’t going to settle for back pain as he snored away on the soft mattress.

so, you laid down on the bed, as far away as you could from taehyun. you were sitting so close to the edge that you were on the verge of falling off, but you couldn't even stand the mere thought of being in such close proximity to him. the thought of his arm touching yours made your skin crawl.

yet, despite breathing in the same room as taehyun, you somehow managed to get what was probably the best sleep of your life. keeping your eyes closed just for one moment more, you held the blanket closer to you, enjoying the warmth it provided, snuggling your face deeper into the pillow beneath you. but the pillow wasn't as soft as you remembered when you put your head down to sleep last night. instead, it was hard, and somehow hot to the touch. confused, you brought a hand up and pressed down on it, slightly squeezing it, then removed it as if you had just gotten burnt when you were met with the feeling of bare skin on skin.

"if you wanted to touch me that badly you could have just asked, love" a raspy voice came from beneath you.

"what the fuck-" you shouted as you got up and finally opened your eyes. you squinted as you adjusted to the bright light coming from the sun.

kang taehyun was sitting right next to you, bare chest exposed and a playful smirk plastered on his face.

"how did we- when did you even take your shirt off?"

"are you always this loud in the morning?" he asked, ignoring your questions. his hair was a ruffled mess, slightly puffy face indicating that he hadn't been awake for that long either.

you still looked at him expectingly, waiting for him to answer. he huffed, rolling his eyes "you snuggled with your burning limbs close to me as you slept. i got overwhelmingly hot so i took off my shirt. there- simple as that"

"why didn't you just push me off or something" you asked. it wasn’t typical for him to act like this.

what taehyun said was indeed the truth. he couldn’t stand you- yes, but he wasn’t an asshole. he couldn’t find it in him to wake you up or pry you off him, as he didn’t want to wake up in the morning to you being groggy. therefore, he was left with only one option: enduring it.

pushing your question aside once more, taehyun got up from the bed, stretching as he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped right before getting past the door to speak "did you know you talk in your sleep? you seemed to enjoy it, i didn't want to ruin the fun for you." he snickered, disappearing into the other room.

you stood there with your jaw hanging, unable to form any kind of comeback to argue. was there even a way to recover from that? when you heard the shower running, you took a pillow from the bed, burying your face into it and silently screaming. you wanted to dig a hole for yourself at least 20 meters underground.

after regaining your composure, you got ready so that you and taehyun could get started on today’s task: gathering the necessary weapons and equipment. irene informed you about some namjoon guy they had a contract with. he apparently sold any kind of gear you would ever need for a mission: from smoke bombs to lethal poison- he had it all. you went to the outskirts of the city searching for a shabby cabin (not suspicious at all), the storage hidden away in an underground system there.

“are you sure this is the right place?” you asked taehyun, eyeing the old rusty door. the whole place just screamed ‘murder’, how exactly did your agency even come to find out about the guy? maybe you didn’t want to know.

“the coordinates match up with what irene sent us- so yeah, probably. try not to hold my hand if you’re so scared” he chuckled.

you ignored his childish remark, going past him to open the heavy door. the inside didn’t match up with the exterior, it was surprisingly warm and cozy. a man with purple hair and a black dress shirt was sitting on an armchair, book in hand. you assumed it was namjoon.

“oh- hello?” you didn’t exactly know how to approach him, you felt bad for barging in without even knocking.

his eyes glanced up from the book “ah” he got up “finally, i was worried irene didn’t send you the right location” he flashed you a dimpled smile. for a man who owned over one thousand weapons, you didn’t expect him to be this...cute?

taehyun bit his cheek “so you’re namjoon?”

“yes, and i already know who you two are. come on- follow me”

namjoon lead you towards an elevator, hidden away from curious eyes in a crowded closet. the ride down seemed almost endless, but that’s how it needed to be. if one single gunshot could be heard from the surface, his entire business could risk being destroyed.

“i’ve got a couple of things for you to try, as well as some accessories irene asked me to give you” namjoon put down a box on a table. it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary- laser pen, tracking devices, coat button cameras, the usual. the guns weren’t exactly essential for your mission, they were more of a safety precaution. either way, you still had to practice using them.

getting into the designated practice area, you and taehyun each had a target to hit. you needed at least 5 good shots in a row to be deemed skilled enough for the weapon. taehyun’s first try was perfect, meanwhile yours barely hit the target.

“seems like someone’s rusty”

“beginner’s luck” you mumbled.

giving it another go, you ended up with the same result. the exact thing happened the 3rd try as well. you frowned, it wasn’t usually like this for you, and taehyun’s cocky smirk only made your blood boil further.

“nervous?” he chuckled

“i’m just warming up- i need to get used to it” you got back into your shooting stance, putting your finger on the trigger.

“take your time, darling, hell’s happy to wait for you”

you missed again.

“can you just shut up for one fucking minute?” you huffed. you didn’t want to let taehyun get to you, but even when he didn’t open his mouth to speak you could still hear his voice in your mind, mocking you.

“i can give you something else if you want to-“ namjoon tried to help, not knowing he only angered you further.

“i need him out of sight- not another weapon” you quickly dismissed him “can i get a private practice room?”

“practicing in private won’t fix your lack of talent” you heard taehyun whisper.

if looks could kill, taehyun would be on the floor the second those words left his mouth “if i point this gun towards your direction i’ll make sure that it won’t be a miss” you fumed.

namjoon was clearly taken aback by the tension in the room. desperate to diffuse the situation, he kindly asked taehyun to look around the other areas as you practiced a few more rounds with him.

you felt bad for the guy, he was a victim to yet another one of your fights with taehyun. you kept the rest of your interactions with him short, wanting to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

“look- i’ll buy you ice cream, will that make it better?” taehyun asked exasperatedly.

“i’m not a fucking child” you snarled. the only thing up until now that taehyun had managed to do successfully was ridiculing you- and you were fed up with it. did he think that some ice cream was going to erase all those embarrassing moments he had been putting you through?

“well what do you want me to do then?” he sighed.

“i don’t know- maybe stop acting like an asshole? like you’re better than me?”

taehyun stopped the car on the side of the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder “i’m not acting like an asshole” he turned his head to look at you.

“yes, you are- you did that the whole day and you are doing that right now” you said in utter disbelief. his snarky attitude was tipping you over.

“get out” he spoke firmly, breaking eye contact with you.

“what?”

taehyun didn’t know how much longer he could be with you in the car without losing his temper even more “i said get out” he repeated once again, closing his eyes “go on and find the way to the hotel yourself”

“fine” you scoffed. you grabbed your purse and slammed the car door as hard as you could once you got out of the vehicle. taehyun wasted no time getting back on the road. finally, he could breathe again.

“jerk” you screamed. what a great time to wear heels this was. you made your way to the side walk, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hands as you looked around, trying to recall any familiar surroundings. with every step you took, it felt like your foot was pressed into a hot piece of lego. you had been wearing those damn heels all day, and now the agonising pain was finally starting to kick in.

taehyun couldn’t help but constantly steal glances at you from the rearview mirror, watching as you struggled to walk without your feet wobbling. sighing, he waited until he could take a turn to go back and pick you up. maybe you weren’t the only one that acted like a kid.

getting back to the same spot he just left you at barely 2 minutes ago, taehyun stopped the car. yet you weren’t anywhere to be found. he got out to search the area better- nothing.

“shit” he mumbled under his breath.

taehyun couldn’t stay still as he waited for you to return. of course, he got to the hotel faster because of the car, but what was taking you so long to arrive? the thought of him ruining the mission because of a petty fight was tormenting his mind. he didn’t want to lose his job at the agency because of you. he kept on walking back and forth from the couch to the door, looking through the peephole for any sign of you coming down the hallway. and just as he was about to check again, for probably the 30th time that night, he heard knocking on the door. it was you- it had to be you. after all, the only other room key had remained with him, and there was no way someone else would disturb him at this ungodly hour.

taehyun cleared his voice, erasing any sign of worry on his face before opening the door, apology already on the tip of his tongue.

"y/n, i'm sorry-" taehyun spoke as soon as he saw you in the doorway, reaching his hand out to take your purse.

"fuck off" you spat out, slapping his hand away from you. you went straight to the bathroom and locked the door, not in the mood to hear any of his excuses. you stood with your back against the door, burying your face in your hands. you felt so tired and sick of having to deal with taehyun’s attitude. but you weren't gonna let him be the one to steal the spotlight from your mission- not again.

taehyun sighed heavily in front of the door, putting his hand down from knocking, choosing to simply let you be for a while. you had all the right to be mad, and he knew that.

you took a shower to cool off, refusing to look taehyun in the eyes, or even in his direction at all, as you got ready to go to sleep.

taehyun put his finger on the lamp's button, letting out those words that had been bugging him all night "just so you know- i did go back for you today, but i couldn't find you anymore. maybe that's gonna convince you that i really meant it when i said sorry" taehyun flicked off the light, huffing, pitch black darkness taking over the room.

you stayed silent, with your back turned to him, still too stubborn to accept his apology. 'he just wants to go to bed with a clean conscience' you tried to convince yourself. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

you were grateful to have woken up with your own personal space, unlike your first night there. taehyun wasn’t even on his side of the bed, the sound of the water running indicating that he had already beat you to the bathroom. you turned over to the side, ready to enjoy those few minutes of peace.

“huh” you brought a hand to your face, feeling something on your forehead. it was a sticky note. you rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what was written on the small piece of paper.

‘there’s ice cream in the freezer’

“what...” you mumbled, how did ice cream have anything to do with- oh.

you fought back a chuckle. so, the great taehyun couldn’t find the strength to own up to his actions and say the words ‘sorry’ a second time. still, you accepted his silent apology, going over to the freezer to get your hands on the sweet treat. how could you ever say no to something free?

taehyun got out of the bathroom as you still nibbled on the ice cream sandwich, the steam and heat instantly invading the room. you looked up from the piece of food in your hand, almost dropping it once your eyes laid on him. taehyun sat in the middle of the room, chest and sculpted abs on full display with a few water droplets adoring his skin from his still dripping hair.

“what are you blushing for? it’s not the first time you’re seeing me like this” he smirked.

“idiot- it’s the heat. your shower transformed the room into a whole sauna” you meekly tried to defend yourself, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. you cursed your cheeks for reacting like this well before your mind could even comprehend the situation.

“oh- so you’re talking to me again. i take it you forgive me?” he leaned against the door.

“don’t get ahead of yourself kang taehyun” you scoffed “it’s gonna take more than just an ice cream for me to fully forgive you”

“i know, you did tell me yesterday that ‘you’re not a child’. just thought it might sweeten that sour attitude of yours” he huffed.

“whatever- let me get changed, then we’ll get in touch with irene” you said as you walked over to your suitcase to grab some clean clothes.

“i already talked to her. she said there’s nothing we have to do for the day. we just need to wait for the big event tomorrow.”

“huh- you talked to her? when?” you raised your eyebrows at him. you could swear you hadn’t heard a single sound all morning.

“yeah- while you were busy snoring” he chuckled.

you scoffed at his reply “as if you’re a saint while you’re sleeping” there he went again with his ridiculous accusations.

“well- unlike you, i haven’t received any complaints from others” he winked at you.

“really? then here’s your first one- you’re loud as hell” you slammed the bathroom door. that wink and his cocky grin were enough to bring back the annoyance he always seemed to provoke within you.

taehyun loudly knocked as you were busy brushing your teeth “how long are you gonna stay in there? i have something to ask”

you rolled your eyes, taking the toothbrush out of your mouth to reply “i’ll be out in 5 minutes” you shouted back. you didn’t know whether it was curiosity or fear taking over you from his words.

taehyun was still in front of the door when you opened it to get out.

“wanna take advantage of the activities here? it’s not like we’re paying for any of this- the agency is. plus- we have the day off anyway” taehyun shrugged his shoulders. his proposal didn’t sound bad at all. you could definitely use some sort of relaxation, your whole body was still aching from walking in heels yesterday.

you put your hands over your mouth, gasping exaggeratedly “finally, i can’t believe there’s good ideas coming out of your mouth” you were actually excited for once about one of taehyun’s suggestions. this was your chance to detach yourself from all the stress, the mission, and most importantly- him.

“when do i not have good ideas?” taehyun brought a hand to his chest. he sounded offended by your statement.

“i’m not going to answer that.” you replied shortly.

grabbing your bathrobes from the reception, you and taehyun headed towards the hotel’s spa facility. the area was filled with all sorts of natural plants and bamboo furniture, the meditation music being accompanied by the quiet sound from the mini artificial waterfall in the middle of it all. having such a packed schedule all the time, you never got any opportunities to spoil yourself in places like this. the anticipation and excitement were making your heart bubble up with joy, but your smile quickly dropped once you arrived in the massage room.

“taehyun, why didn’t you mention the hotel activities being couple activities” you hissed. standing in the doorway, you looked in terror at the swarm of lovey dovey pairs sitting on yoga mats in front of you.

“did you think i made the proposal knowing that?” he scoffed.

“well i can’t seem to understand how you overlooked such a major detail??”

“listen- the poster said couple massages. how the hell was i supposed to know that they’re making us do the work for each other? i just thought we’d both get a massage done at the same time”

“you must be the kangs, welcome” the host greeted you “come on, sit down. we were just getting started with a simple shoulder massage” she pointed to the last empty mat in the room, then motioned for you to begin.

taehyun’s eyelids fluttered shut as you awkwardly placed your hands on his shoulders, the material of the robe doing almost nothing to hide the feeling of the rock hard muscles underneath. you grimaced as you pressed your fingers down, trying to reminisce the movements you’d use while preparing pizza dough.

“you’re doing it wrong” he deadpanned, opening his eyes to make direct eye contact with you.

“shut the hell up”

you didn’t know what you were doing- yes. but were you going to admit that to taehyun? absolutely not. rolling your eyes, you continued to clumsily massage the tense muscles.

“i can’t feel a goddamn thing” he complained again.

“how about now?” you pinched his skin between your thumb and your index finger, using as much pressure as you could. taehyun’s face distorted in pain as he crumbled beneath you “for fuck’s sake-“ he grabbed your wrists, stopping you from provoking him even more suffering “how are you so bad at this?”

frustrated, you moved your hands away from his body “if you think you’re that great, why don’t you give it a shot?”

“i will give it a shot” he snarled.

the host approached the two of you just as taehyun placed his hands on you “what a lovely couple” she smiled. nudging taehyun, she whispered one more thing before walking away “remember, use your hands gently, like you’re touching the most delicate petal”

taehyun’s ears turned a bright shade of red at the sound of that. he bit his lip so hard trying not to laugh at her words, you were surprised he didn’t end up drawing blood.

“close your eyes, petal” he snickered.

you snorted at the nickname, doing as he said regardless. taehyun’s hands were surprisingly warm. he did his best mimicking the actions from the couples around you, his long slender fingers massaging your muscles with such care, you could feel all the built-up tension melting away.

“wait- this is kinda nice” you spoke quietly.

“told you so”

you hoped taehyun wouldn’t catch that, but of course, he did. you opened one eye, tempted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. getting ahold of yourself, you chose not to, you never knew when taehyun would treat you this nicely again. you sighed, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling. this was the least he could do to pay you back for all the headaches he had caused you so far throughout the mission.

you did make a few other attempts to give taehyun a massage, but even with the host’s instructions, he was never satisfied. in the end, he gave up, preferring to do all the work himself instead of letting you touch him again. he probably left the spa room feeling more tense than when he had arrived, the only thing bringing him some sort of consolation being the free bottle of wine at the end of the lesson- which he opened as soon as you came back to your hotel room.

after getting changed, you sat down next to taehyun on the bed, noticing only one wine filled glass on the table “aren’t you gonna share that?”

“after all the pain i’ve went through today? don’t think so” he replied before taking a sip of the crimson beverage.

“don’t be a jerk” you snapped back “i tried my best”

taehyun sighed heavily, grabbing the other clean glass in the room to pour you some of the wine. you muttered a quick ‘thanks’ before taking it from his hands, downing the liquid almost immediately.

“what the fuck are you doing” he grabbed your wrist “take it easy- our mission is tomorrow, i don’t think you want to wake up with a headache” there was a hint of worry hidden in his stern voice.

“a bit more won’t hurt- i just want to sleep well tonight” you replied. your hand was already reaching for the bottle to pour another one. taehyun simply rolled his eyes, hoping that you’d stop after the seccond glass. yet- you repeated your actions, downing the glass and going for the bottle right after. this time, taehyun snatched it away from your hands and hid it behind the bed.

“don’t ruin the fun-“ you furrowed your brows “just give me the bottle”

you stood up, towering over taehyun as you extended your arm. he wasn’t expecting you to put up such a fight, but his reflexes were sharp- he took hold of your arm quickly, making you lose your balance and stumble over him. his hand came down to your waist to hold you as you landed in his lap, not allowing you to slip away anymore. you looked at him with wide eyes, your loud heartbeat drumming against his chest. “don’t make me repeat myself” he muttered.

“or what?” you provoked him further. your eyes shifted their focus on his lips, sitting centimeters apart from yours. you had never paid attention before to how soft they looked- so soft and rosy, your mind couldn’t help but wander off and think about how they would feel on yours. taehyun seemed to become nervous underneath your gaze, his breathing became ragged, hand gripping your waist slightly tighter. he licked his lips before moving his face closer to yours, yet still not enough to fully close the gap. your eyelids fluttered shut, and he smirked at your action, his thumb coming to graze your lower lip slowly.

“or you might just make me lose myself completely” he breathed out. his gaze was still fixated on your lips, only tempting him further to give in, to let go of everything that had been holding him back until now from accepting that it wasn’t hatred he felt upon seeing you, or even hearing your name. he had been convinced that you hating him meant that he was supposed to feel the same, but he couldn’t- and he could barely even fake it anymore. especially now, when you somehow managed to completely break down his guard in mere seconds. thinking this through, taehyun chose to back away. he didn’t have the confirmation whether it was your actual feelings leading your actions, or just the alcohol in your system.

he cleared his throat, removing his hands from your body and putting that usual cold façade back on “like i’ve said, our mission is tomorrow. you should probably go to bed” his eyes didn’t meet yours when you opened them to look at him again.

your gaze shifted to the floor, you were unable to hide the underlying disappointment in your voice “yeah- you’re right”. you hesitated a bit before finally separating yourself from him, the warmth of his body gone just as the excitement that was beginning to take over your heart. you put your head down on the pillow, the sound of more wine getting poured in a glass being heard as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ "your tie is lopsided, let me fix that" you walked over to taehyun. there was just one hour left until the event started. the atmosphere in the room was suffocating, to say the least.

taehyun scoffed upon hearing that "i can definitely do a better job than you" yet, he didn't make any movement to stop you from touching him or his clothes “everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” you said bitterly, your eyes were fixated on his chest, his tie in your hand.

“isn’t it for you, too?” taehyun asked. he immediately regretted his question, the words seemed to roll off his tongue as an automatic response. he peered into your eyes, although he was hesitant to hear your answer. you paused for a moment before continuing, refusing to look up and meet his gaze "maybe i don't want it to be anymore"

you went back to the mirror, trying to look busy as you "fixed" your makeup, although you had already ensured it was perfect with each step you did.

taehyun didn't say anything to that. it wasn't the time he could let himself be swayed by his emotions. you were both at the peak of your mission, where high attention was demanded and no mistakes were allowed to be made. he cleared his throat before speaking, trying to change the conversation from the sensitive topic "you look good" "thanks" you looked down, playing a bit more with the lipstick in your hand before stuffing it in your purse "we should go" "yeah- we should" he repeated after you, grabbing the spare card for your hotel room.

the entire venue was filled with well-known people from the political field, as well as celebrities. the event had been long planned to celebrate the president’s birthday. however, he started to have a rising suspicion that someone was after him, wanting to backstab him so that they could steal his position, which is how you got into the play. your team was able to pinpoint the enemy’s plan of action due to their sloppy preparation. they talked freely around Élysée Palace about their intention, completely unaware of the mics hidden all around the building. they were going to infiltrate the office and place a bomb there, wiping out the president without putting themselves at much risk.

being nervous was an understatement. it’s been long since you’ve been assigned such an important mission- way too long. the fact that you didn’t know whether you were going to make direct contact with the enemy didn’t help either.

taehyun seemed to be glued to your side, not letting you go once. he held you by the waist the whole time you were walking around, searching for your table. his eyes were trained on you, not allowing the disgusting rich men in the room to think that they can lay a finger on you, not even for one second.

“why do you keep on holding me so close?” you wondered aloud.

“we need to act like a couple- did you forget that again?”

“that doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to walk on my own” you said trying to break yourself free yourself from his grip. but taehyun stopped you before you could fully do so, he grabbed your wrist, bringing your back flushed against his chest. he dipped down to whisper in your ear “sweetheart, let’s not make a scene now- shall we?” he twirled you around, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music to disguise your actions as natural.

“now- let’s discuss. when do you want to put our plan into action?” he leaned down to whisper once again. his voice sent shivers down your spine.

“not yet- we haven’t been here for long and leaving so early would raise suspicion” you muttered.

“then- how about a drink?” taehyun brought you closer, not breaking eye contact with you.

you nodded “a drink sounds good” just like the ‘massage’, there was no way you could turn down something you didn’t have to pay for yourself.

taehyun spun you around once more before heading off to the bar. you continued the search for your table, settling down on one of the chairs as you waited for him.

“what is a princess like you doing all alone?” a sleazy man approached you, reeking of sweat and alcohol. your senses were instantly on high alert, you were praying that taehyun wouldn’t take much longer to return.

“i’m not alone- i’m just waiting for someone” you tried to dismiss him, hoping that he would walk away and leave you alone. but a man’s confidence seems to skyrocket when they drink, so of course, he didn’t back down so easily.

“say, why won’t you have a drink with me while you wait?” his hand was in motion, inching closer to touch your shoulder. it abruptly stopped upon hearing a voice from behind him.

“i’m afraid i’ve already taken care of that, sir” taehyun settled down the drinks on the table before occupying the empty chair next to you. he noticed from far away how uncomfortable you looked and he rushed to get back to you, almost spilling the drinks in the process.

he placed one of his hands on your knee, trying to give the man a subtle hint that he should give up and leave you alone.

“i’m sure one more drink wouldn’t hurt? right, miss?” he continued.

taehyun clicked his tongue, increasingly annoyed by his presence “i’m pretty sure it would, though”

the man’s smile was wiped off his face as soon as taehyun said that, his hand gripped his bottle of beer tighter “why won’t you let her answer, hm?”

you were unsure what to do- you wanted to get rid of him, but you didn’t want to anger him further either. you weren’t supposed to draw any kind of attention towards yourselves, if this were to turn into a big argument, it could damage your mission badly. taehyun’s hand on your knee felt reassuring. at the same time, it made your heart skip a beat whenever he gave it a light squeeze.

“what if i search for you once i finish this first, would that be good?” you did your best fake smile, so that he wouldn’t see directly through your lie. somehow, that answer was good enough for him. he nodded, smiled, then walked away.

taehyun slumped into the chair, taking a sip of the cognac he ordered.

“thank you” you spoke softly “you came just at the right moment”

taehyun’s ears turned red at that “now maybe you understand why i wasn’t letting you go before” he played with the glass in his hand. you bit your lip and nodded, taking a sip of the drink yourself. taehyun had good taste.

you both settled for analysing your surroundings as you drank, making small remarks here and there about the people around you. however, once your glasses were empty, taehyun could already notice the same man approaching your table again. he got up abruptly, taking your wrist and tugging you along with him.

“hey- what’s gotten into you?” you asked. you couldn’t figure out the expression he had on his face, nor his actions. taehyun loudly knocked on the bathroom door. upon hearing no answer, he dragged you in, locking the door after him “weren’t you the one saying that we shouldn’t make a scene?”

“and what was i supposed to do? sit there and watch as he tried to touch you again?” he huffed.

“why are you acting like this? maybe i wouldn’t have minded having a drink with another man” you provoked him further. that wasn’t actually the case- the quick lie slipped past your lips in the heat of the moment, as you were curious to see where he was going to end up with this.

"oh really?" taehyun pressed his tongue against his cheek, crossing his arms. he took a step closer towards you, to which, at first, you chose not to react.

"yes, really."

you tried to sound confident as you talked, but taehyun took note of your pursed lips “you know, lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." he took another step towards you then another- until you had no choice but to take a few steps back yourself, not stopping until your back hit the wall.

“you know what? i don’t get you-“ you snapped “and i’m tired of trying to figure you out” you pressed a finger to his chest, letting out all those pent-up frustrations that had been tormenting you for the past few days “you keep on giving me these mixed signals- your actions never seem to match your words. how do you even think i felt today? or after last night? do you even care about that?”

you chuckled drily as taehyun remained silent. “why won’t you just give me a clear answer?” your gaze dropped to the floor "if you had the guts, kang taehyun, you would have kissed me"

taehyun's eyes looked sharp, he inched closer to you, bringing your chin up with his hand so that he could look directly into your eyes "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now?" he tilted his head and smirked, slight amusement hidden in his voice.

"then do it" you said firmly, pushing him over the edge.

taehyun slipped his other hand on the small of your back, holding you close so that he could press his mouth on yours, hot and heavy. he wasted no time to lick your lips with his tongue, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. you opened your mouth for him, the feeling of his lips and tongue even more intoxicating than the alcohol that you had consumed earlier that night. he lifted one of your legs up, letting his fingers dance along the bare skin that was revealed once your dress slid up with the movement. your body felt hot all over, you hadn't even known how badly you were craving for his touch until you got to experience it. you clasped your hands behind his neck, then dragged them along his back, slightly scratching it with your nails. taehyun groaned at the feeling, hoisting your other leg up as well so that you could wrap them both around his waist. he moved on to your neck, biting at the skin in a slightly hidden area. it was just enough to remind that man and all those other people lurking after you tonight that you were only his. he carried you over to the sink, putting you on the edge of the counter there so that he could have better access to your neck.

there was knocking on the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob.

"tae-"

taehyun put his index finger over your lips, shushing you as he covered you whole in kisses: your neck, your collarbones, your chest, all the way down to the valley of your breasts, the area exposed by the cleavage of your dress.

"they'll leave" he spoke against your skin.

the image of a ticking clock crossing your mind every now and then filled you with worry and pressure "we should leave too-" taehyun pressed his finger over your lips once more.

"tae-" you breathed out again "-the mission"

"just a bit more” he whispered “there's still time" he looked up at you, those big eyes of his, filled to the brim with desire, pleaded you to let him continue. you grabbed the collar of his shirt, connecting your lips with his again. you sighed in contentment, letting him take control over the kiss. soft gasps and wet lips, his warm mouth on your skin- you got lost into it all, not caring for one second whether your hair or your dress were turning into a mess.

you could barely bring yourself to stop, and when you did, it felt like your cheeks had been set on fire. you hid your face in the crook of taehyun’s neck, breathing heavily against his skin as your brain finally processed what had just happened between the two of you.

you kissed kang taehyun

no-

you made out- with kang taehyun

and you enjoyed it.

in fact, you enjoyed it so much you seriously contemplated ditching the event just to feel his lips on yours for a few moments more.

the rational part of you was stronger “come on- we have a mission to complete” you pressed a quick peck on taehyun’s lips. he smiled, taking his time to fix your appearance before holding your hand and reaching for the door.

“let’s do it” he breathed out.

you sneaked past the security guards and reached the hallway towards the office. you wished you could have collaborated with them, but there was no way you could have known whether the person betraying the president was one of them or not, and you didn’t feel like risking your cover.

your hand reached towards the doorknob, wanting to check whether the door was locked or not. taehyun spoke right before you touched it.

“don’t- it’s dangerous, the bomb could be on the door”

you slowly retracted your hand. you didn’t think this through, and quickly jumped into action. taehyun was right, and you had to find a way to test his theory right before making another attempt at getting in.

you used some of the gadgets irene bought for you, making a small hole inside the wall and pushing through an extendable stick with a camera to look inside.

bingo.

the bomb was placed flushed against the door. had taehyun not stopped you before, you would have both been dead in an instant.

“seems like we’ll have to find another way in” you muttered.

taehyun eyed the outside window “how are your wall climbing skills?”

“not bad at all” you offered to go first, it was probably your best shot for now.

the distance between this window and the one in the office wasn’t that long either, you were just hoping that there weren’t any curious eyes looking up at the building from the garden.

melting away the lock on the window, you succeeded to get in. taehyun followed right after you, jumping inside. the bomb didn’t have a timer on it, the wire connected to the doorknob was what would made it go off. you had to give this one to them, it was pretty smart- this way, they ensured that they had less chances of missing their target.

“any updates?” irene’s voice was heard from your ear piece.

“yeah- we’re in. the enemy’s plan isn’t so bad after all, they just organised it poorly”

“that’s great- but you need to hurry up. you don’t have much time until the guy checking the security cameras alerts the other guards”

“got it” you replied

“so no pressure at all” taehyun laughed as he searched for the necessary tools. the bomb wasn’t unlike anything else you’ve seen before. the only thing you needed to do was follow the procedure carefully, so as not to miss any steps.

taehyun took it upon himself to do it, even though you were both in just as much danger anyway. you helped him out as much as you could, reassuring him that he followed all the steps in the right order and giving him new tools whenever he needed to switch.

“shit-“ you could hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs “they’re onto us, you need to hurry”

“hang on- i’m almost done” taehyun tried his best to remain calm, he couldn’t have his hands trembling at this very moment.

“you either show yourselves, or we’ll have no choice but to barge in” a male voice shouted from behind the door. they were definitely not alone.

“2 more wires” he whispered.

you were growing impatient, but you bit your tongue trying to remain silent, taehyun had to remain concentrated.

“we’ll take your silence as an answer” the man shouted again before starting a countdown.

3, 2, 1-

the door was busted down from its shackles.

the guards remained silent as they were met with...an empty room?

you and taehyun barely managed to make it out on time, and you were now holding your breath as you clung onto the outside wall again. you entered the building through another window from the floor beneath you before they had a chance to inspect the area and potentially see you.

after making sure you were in a safe zone, you reached out to irene again: “we’re done here- we’ll send you that fucker’s fingerprints”

“excellent”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

taehyun called the reception as you were taking a cab back to the hotel. he requested 2 bottles of wine for you to drink as a form of celebration. you couldn’t wait to lie down and drink to your heart’s content.

so now- here you were, you sitting in taehyun’s lap as he tried his best not to laugh in your face at your drunken words and actions. it seemed like you couldn’t handle alcohol that well when you were exhausted.

“can you kiss me again?” you asked quietly, closing your eyes before you could even notice his reaction. taehyun was taken aback by your sudden proposal, but nevertheless, fondness took over his eyes in an instant. he cupped your cheeks, bringing your face closer to him until your noses were touching. then, he opted for pressing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips, to which you opened your eyes, cheeks burning at the small gesture. “god- you’re making me go crazy” he spoke softly against your lips. his hand took hold of your wrist, leaving a tender kiss on your pulse point “let’s get you to bed”

you shook your head, dipping your head down to bury your face in his chest as you hugged him tightly. silence filled up the room for a moment before you finally spoke again “maybe it was supposed to be like this from the beginning.” your voice was slightly muffled as you refused to move away from your spot. taehyun ran his hands through your hair “…like what?”

“i don’t know. maybe we were never supposed to hate each other" those words rolled off your tongue softly, your eyes getting heavier with each passing second.

taehyun tucked a few strands behind your ear. your words tugged at his heart, and it was like something clicked for the both of you as you voiced out your drunken thoughts. it was stupid-so stupid. all this time, you had both been too caught up in the high created by all the praises and achievements. you were taught to eliminate any kind of obstacle that came your way whenever you set a goal, you forgot to look at each other as just...humans. sure, the pride that bloomed in your chest whenever you successfully cleared yet another mission felt good, but has that ever felt as good as taehyun's touch? his lips on yours, rough hands enveloping yours as a silent sign of care and reassurance, arms circling your waist to keep you close, to keep you safe. you never paid much attention to human relationships, and perhaps that was the reason why, once you stepped foot into your empty apartment, once the cheers died down, you had never felt truly satisfied with your life.

hearing the sound of light snores coming from beneath him, taehyun looked down to find you already fast asleep in his lap. “cute” he chuckled, secretly taking out his phone for a pic, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of teasing you about it tomorrow. he slowly detangled your hand that was holding on to his shirt tightly, then lifted you up to carry you over to your side of the bed. he frowned upon noticing that you never had the chance to take off your dress. diverting his eyes as much as he could, taehyun took it off for you, blushing as he slid one of his shirts over your head. he didn't want to invade your privacy, he just wished you could rest comfortably after experiencing such a draining day.

“sleep well, y/n” taehyun pressed a kiss against your temple before getting underneath the covers himself. he sighed in contentment as he brought himself closer to you, your soft rhythmic breaths and warm body putting his own at ease.

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comfortless · 1 month

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God könig and his only worshipper who doesn't try to get him more followers cause she wants all of his attention on her

another strange vaguely Greek/Roman au?! ^^ (also to your other message: no worries!! being too nice would make me lazy!) this prompt is like a reversal of this and i am here for it!

content/warnings: suggestive, König may or may not have killed some guy no big deal..!

It isn’t as if he bestows great blessings upon you or grants your deepest, most guarded wishes…

It’s just that he’s lovely in all forms: the very apex of some marbelesque, masculine statue made flesh. Warm to the touch and so very real and alive that it was difficult to focus on worshiping him proper when your very being sang for him.

He’s probably only some great god of war, Ares, but without the long list of lovers and offspring - only you. There was nothing that he could do to benefit you much, just a humble citizen that had no need of taking up a weapon…

Yet he was so heart achingly beautiful with the docile look in his eyes, the contrast to his stature that bore the look of a proper hunter, you could not keep yourself from returning to him.

All of the other men in the city pale in comparison to the god you pray to, nestled up in the foothills where you make your trek day by day to speak… knowing that nightly he comes to you in dreams with little glimpses of futures or pasts: the things you can not comprehend yet those in Olympus could parse together with such ease.

As his only worshiper, you are never apart for long.

He descends that mountain each time to meet with you in green meadows with the gentlest look in his eyes.

He has no temple in which to pray to… but, you’ve made a temple of your own within yourself all for him. He knows it, knows well when you pray at your feet and he sheepishly orders you to stop that, stand, face him, and he would lend you his mighty weapon any day if you would just ask for him to use it.

Your god deserves and army of men to fight and scramble for his favor, a harem of women to tend to his needs… but the thought alone is enough to leave bitterness on your tongue.

You don’t want to share him, only savor the honeyed words and touches between the two of you, never muddy what is sacred with another’s prayers or offerings.

… Are yours not already enough?

You only find out that they most certainly are the day a suitor begins his arrogant courtship and… within that very hour he is no longer. A stray spear from the pit pierced right through him…? What a strange way to go out. You don’t even think to question it until you find yourself meandering through soft grass for your meeting with König.

He’s a warrior, too, he should know the intricacies of how a weapon that heavy might rise up on the wind just to strike some poor, silly man down before he could even take your hand and lie with you.

You tell him of this odd occurrence whilst you whittle away at a tiny carving of him with a paring knife, König sat just adjacent to you.

First, he tells you that a blade meant for herbs and vegetables is no good for wood. The dull blade is pried from your hands with ease and tossed aside into the foliage surrounding you both. No need for little idols when your god willingly comes down to grace you, anyhow…

Then, he tells you that… it isn’t fair for you to have eyes for any other. Is his presence not enough? Is he not stronger and more capable than any of your puny, mortal men? He could protect you, haul you up to Olympus and make you his bride, give you as many children as you want… Wouldn’t you like that more?

Your stare is so telling, hands shaking as you set the unfinished figure aside, and the words do not come, not when the look he gives you goes from adoring and sweet to near deadly in an instant. It’s the first time he’s offered to bless you with anything but bloodshed in your favor… a peculiar promise of love in return for your selfishness and gifts of milk and honey…

“I do not think I am worthy of that…” The words come tumbling, clumsy and weighty on your tongue. Could he detect the yearning there..? Surely he knew with the way he invaded your dreaming, and even now as his hand finds your shoulder to push you back down into the soft bed of the earth.

“You wish to make yourself worthy, little one..?”

You only nod, once, as your heart finds its way into your throat and your robe is torn away to flutter out with the wind.

#this is so short… apologies!#putting König in these scenarios is so fun but my well is running dry someone spare me a bucket…#^^’#they fuck or whatever do i need to type it this time.. (shaking like milk)

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padfootagain · 15 days

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Only an Almost (I)

Chapter 1 : For the Best

Hello!! Here is a new series! I’ve already finished writing and proofreading it, and I’ll be posting two chapters per week! I hope you’ll like it!

Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2739

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was a logical decision.

That’s what Andrew kept telling himself. As he watched you pick up your clothes, scattered across his bedroom floor, he forced his mind to form the same thought over and over again.

This is for the best. There’s no choice.

It was part of the deal. You never stayed for the entire night, and he didn’t linger long enough to fall asleep in your arms. Made it easier. Avoiding getting attached, avoiding stepping into any type of complication. You had sex, and then you were gone. On the side, you were good friends.

Best friends.

Something like that. Something in between good and best, he would say. Good didn’t sound strong enough to describe your friendship. It explained why it all happened in the first place, why you started casually hooking up about three months ago. After your first kiss, you decided to establish a simple rule.

If we do this, it can’t be anything but sex. We can’t get attached like this.

Romantically, that’s what you meant by this. And Andrew got it, of course. He spent most of his time abroad, it was the only logical decision. Besides, he had tried before to have serious relationships, but every time the same scheme repeated itself: he would leave for tour, and everything would fall apart. The distance always extinguished the flame. That and the fact that he was so busy he barely had time to sleep, let alone dedicate quality time to anyone. And he understood, of course, he couldn’t complain about being dumped when he spent a grand total of 20 minutes on the phone with his partner in the span of a day, when he got lucky. He got it, the ghostly presence, the lingering pain of being apart, the estrangement that came with the oblivion of the other’s life. He knew what it felt like, and he understood that others were not ready to go through that for him. He wasn’t worthy of it. It was alright…

And he understood that you didn’t want to get dragged into his mess of a life. To be fair, he didn’t want to drag you into this either, and he agreed when you offered this arrangement. He didn’t feel like he had a choice that day, when you made him this offer so casually, in front of a cup of tea. He could have said no, but his feelings for you were way too strong for that. Better have a little bit of you than nothing at all…

Friends by day, sex by night, no romantic feelings. Sounded simple enough.

“Damn… where’s my other sock?”

You looked around frantically, searching for the tiny piece of garment. Andrew spotted it by the door. He didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re coming to Alex’s party tomorrow?” he asked instead, voice a little hoarse after the sounds you had torn from him tonight.

“Hmm… yeah, probably. He’ll have my head if I don’t, anyway.”

“Perhaps not your head, but definitely your sanity.”

“He does hold grudges like no one else…”

Andrew stared as you buttoned your jeans, still searching the room for your lost sock, the one he didn’t help you to find. He readjusted the blanket higher on his torso, feeling self-conscious now that he was the only one left naked.

“Want me to pick you up?” he offered, and you nodded with a grin.

“Yeah, that would be nice! That way I can get properly sloshed.”

He chuckled at that, bathing into the warmth of your laughter, smiling without a thought.

“Oh, and I need to go to your mother’s tomorrow!” you informed him, readjusting your shirt.

His shirt, as a matter of fact. His heart stumbled at the sight…

“Really?”

“Hmm… she wants to take pictures of several objects for her artwork. I’ve volunteered to go around Dublin with her tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

“We both know I like Raine better than you. I’m only keeping you around to have her,” you teased, throwing Andrew a mischievous wink.

He tightened his hold on the sheets.

“Oh, I see. You’re only using me to get to her… and I thought you only used me for sex.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” but he noticed the way you bit your lip, refraining a smile, and how you averted your eyes in shyness, and he loved the sight…

Your eyes fell on the lost item, and you let out a victorious cry picking up your sock, while Andrew swallowed back the lump in his throat.

You sat down on the edge of the bed to put your socks on, and he didn’t think as he sat up, leaning into your form. He didn’t wrap his arms around you, merely rested his shoulder against yours, revelling in the warmth escaping your body.

He pressed his lips to your hair, felt you tensing, saw you stopping your movements.

“Ring me when you’re home, okay? It’s late. Are you too tired to drive?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that tired,” you answered, voice weaker than before, but he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because the night was quiet but for the branches of trees singing in the wind outside, and it felt like the world had slowed down, like it was more peaceful than usual. Perhaps because you were uncomfortable. Hard to tell.

He moved away, just in case. Distance cutting your edges and his with cold. And yet Andrew remained but centimetres away.

“Alright. Still, tell me when you’re home, okay? Just to be safe.”

You seemed to relax, he didn’t know if he liked that reaction or not.

“I like it when you do that.”

It sounded like a confession, the words on your lips quiet and velvety, soft to the touch.

“Do what?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Get all worried about me.”

You gave him a smile, one that he offered back with ease.

“Hmm… don’t have a choice. You’re a menace behind the wheel.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! You almost killed us last month!”

“It wasn’t even my fault, there was a fucking sheep running across the road, coming out of nowhere!”

“Can’t believe you’re blaming the fauna for this…”

You both laughed at that, and when you grew quiet again, smile still lingering on your lips, you let your head fall to rest onto his shoulder, and it was Andrew’s time to relax. You lifted your hand to rest upon his chest, right over his heart. For a second, he felt embarrassed at the thought that you would feel how fast his heart was beating, but your palm was too warm against his skin, and he soon couldn’t care enough to worry.

He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close, but not too much, not as much as he would have wanted, too afraid you would push him away.

“I know that… that’s what friends are made for, but still… it’s nice. Thank you, Andy.”

He closed his eyes as he rested his lips against your hair; closed them too tightly, until it hurt.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he whispered into your skin, mouth drifting to press against your forehead. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You hummed, leaning into him even more, and he felt all your muscles relaxing as he rubbed your back, palm flat against your spine, the curve so familiar under his hand by now.

You heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Andrew answered without a second thought, not thinking about what he had planned. He would move his schedule around for you anyway.

You looked up at him again, blinked a few times, as if to fall back onto earth. There was something dreamy in your smile.

“Good night, Andy.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

That was another one of your rules: no affectionate pet names.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you turned your cheek to his lips instead, and acted like it was nothing, like he had never been aiming for your mouth in the first place.

Third rule: no kissing without sex.

The next second, you were standing, walking towards the door. He stared as you walked out, listened to the padding of your feet on the tiles, the creaking of his staircase. He waited until the front door closed, and he let himself fall back into his pillows.

It was a logical decision, he didn’t have a choice.

Andrew, you absolute fool…

His mother was worried, which meant that Andrew was worried.

She was smiling at you as if nothing was wrong, as if the sunny afternoon truly was as bright as the beams coming across the green leaves of his parents’ garden trees.

Andrew was not fooled though. He knew his mother too well not to see the signs, to be blind to her slight frown, to the drifting downwards of her gaze, to the worried lip she kept biting on.

Raine didn’t say a word while you were here though, and it only worried Andrew more. You were a friend of the family; almost part of the family at this point. You were close enough to Andrew’s parents and brother to spend time with them on your own, just to see them. And they invited you often as well. If Raine wasn’t saying anything in front of you, it ought to mean that this was serious, that something terrible was happening. His thoughts drifted to his father…

“Andy? You’re okay?”

He blinked up at you, soothing the frown he had not noticed across his brow. He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Sure, why?”

“I don’t know… you look… worried. Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just lost in thought.”

You narrowed your eyes a little at him, clearly unconvinced, but Andrew shot you a smile, asked a question to draw the conversation back to you, and you yielded.

It was such a sweet afternoon, after all. You had spent some time taking pictures for Raine, and somehow had found your way to her garden, with tea and biscuits, a little high on sunlight and laughter. It was lovely. It almost felt like you and Andrew were not friends, almost like you were in your own family home. He pushed that thought away quickly though, taking a sip of tea and regretting that there was no burning effect of alcohol when he swallowed.

When you left to go home, Andrew was aware that he held you too tightly, for too long, that he let his lips linger against your cheek for more than a mere peck. But you didn’t push him away, and so he leaned further, allowed himself to be close, just for a moment.

You hugged Raine, promising to come back the following week for an artsy afternoon, and left as the sun abandoned the sky.

Andrew was washing the teacups when he finally asked his mother what was bothering her.

“Nothing, honey,” she reassured him, but he shook his head and gave her a hard look.

“Come on. Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something on your mind. Are dad and you okay?”

“Oh, darling… of course, we are. Don’t worry about us, we’re both fine. No, it’s… it’s you I’m worried about.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a laugh, a mixture of relief and surprise.

“Me? Why would you be worried about me? I’m good.”

“Are you, though?”

She gave him that look, the one that pierced him to his soul, the one he couldn’t run away from. The one he knew would claim the truth, in the end. He felt like a child when she looked at him like that, like he had just stolen a cookie from the jar and was caught red-handed as he tried to hide the proof of his crime.

“I’m fine, mom. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. I really am.”

But her gaze only hardened. Not in a cold way, on the contrary. It was a gaze of steel in its firmness, but that held all the love she had for him. His heart sank at the sight.

“Don’t lie. I know there’s something off between you and Y/N.”

Andrew struggled to swallow, looked away, fleeing. He stared at his hands still holding a teacup, and he noticed it was yours. There were traces of your lipstick on the edge of the pale porcelain. He traced it with his fingers absent-mindedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, but his lie was obvious, his voice too low, too weak. In the sink, his fingers pushed the cup into the water, disappearing under soapy bubbles, and he left them there, in the warmth of the water, staring at the flesh that had disappeared, at your trace that was gone but that he hadn’t erased yet.

“Andy… you know that you can tell me anything. I’m your mother. You can always tell me anything that bothers you. That’s my job to help you. And I’m great at it.”

Her joke made them both chuckle, but he didn’t look at her. He rubbed at the stained spot on the cup instead, but blindly so, unable to see the destruction of your lips over the edge of the porcelain.

“I don’t know�� it’s a little weird,” he whispered, struggling to find the right words and hating that about himself. How it was so much easier to write things down than to speak out words. They felt heavy on his tongue, had a wrong taste in his mouth.

“Why? What happened? Did you two fight?”

“No… no, we didn’t fight.”

“What is it, then?”

“We… We’re sleeping together.”

Raine stared at her son with wide eyes, her mouth dropping open. He chuckled at her reaction; clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that…

“What? When? How? What?”

“You’ve asked that one twice.”

“Wait, I don’t understand… if you two are finally being intelligent and are together, why do you look so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

She gave him a look that was silently saying ‘I’ve birthed you, do not lie to me’.

He looked away again, tried to ignore the finally part of her question.

“We’re sleeping together. We aren’t together.”

“Oh…”

She seemed disappointed, leaned her back against the counter.

“How long?” she asked, after a heavy and lingering silence.

“A few months.”

“And you’re not dating her?”

“No, we’re not dating.”

“But you’re hanging out with her during the day, and sleeping with her at night.”

“Yeah.”

He struggled to swallow, cheeks turned crimson.

“Why on earth would you want that?”

She was blunt, as usual, but there was so much love in her question. So much worry for her son. Andrew wasn’t fooled, she was direct because she cared too much to circle around the issue.

“I’ve never said that I wanted that,” Andrew admitted in a whisper, feeling tears rise to his eyes, but he blinked them away, clenching his jaw to hold them in check.

“Oh, honey…”

She rubbed his back, her movement soothing. He rolled his eyes.

“Mom, don’t… I’m okay.”

“Casually sleeping with your friend… that’s not a good idea, Andy. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you want. This is your life. And I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what. Still…”

She heaved a sigh, but her son remained silent, and so she went on.

“You are too generous when you love, Andy. Be careful. Take care of yourself. For once, take care of yourself, before you take care of her. Can you do that for me?”

He finally pulled your cup out of the water. Your lipstick was gone, there was only the perfect white of the porcelain left under his thumb.

“Don’t worry about me, mom. I’m okay.”

“I know how you feel for her. This kind of… arrangement… it won’t end well for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I agreed to this. I’m okay with us just being casual, with nothing serious happening between us.”

But one did not fool a mother so easily. She gave him a look that let him know she understood him better than he did himself. And he had no doubt she was right about that.

Still, he put down the cup by the side of the sink to dry, picked up another, and washed the tea away again.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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coeurify · 1 year

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perfect girl II | ellie williams.

tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. part one here. part three here. not heavily proofread. 6.6k words

after the first time you hooked up, resident university dealer ellie williams cant keep away from you, despite your avoidance.

this has smut, 18+ only. mean!reader , mean!ellie. sort of dom/sub dynamics. name calling, lots of fighting. they fuck instead of talking through the tension. oral!ellie receiving, thigh riding!reader receiving. slight choking. just lots of filth.

It had been two weeks. Fourteen days to be exact. 3 parties had passed by that time. You went to none of them.

Two weeks after you walked out of that room from that frat party, tugging your skirt down and avoiding as many prying eyes as you could until you were out the door, a certain university drug dealer hot on your tail.

Fourteen days since you let Ellie leave you at the door of your sorority with nothing more than a thank you for getting you home. The cold walk back to campus had been enough to send you into avoidance mode. You slept alone that night, and dreamt of what happened. Over and over.

Three parties passed, and you avoided going to each one. One was a day after the incident, and you used the excuse of studying to hide out in your room with a sweatshirt that covered the marks on your neck. Mostly however it was so you didn’t have to meet her eyes.

The second and third party you avoided were last weekend’s. You got side eyes from certain sorority sisters when you denied going— this time under the guise of being sick. Really though, you were sick. Sick from the way that stupid green eyed girl would not leave your mind. Sick of revisiting how it felt to be putty in her fucking hands. How it felt to be so close to her, the sound of her fingers moving through your folds. It never left your mind.

It was ridiculous, you had told yourself that over and over. She wasn’t worth your time of day. Was not worthy of the space in your mind she occupied. But it didn’t help. You still found every waking moment consumed by her.

By the time of tonight's party, what would be the fourth you had bailed on.. only Dina popped her head in to ask you to go. Of course you refused, which now left you in the almost completely empty sorority house.

Maybe it made you a bad sorority member to do this, to avoid what was essentially your duty. But none of the girls wanted to deal with your ever growing attitude and sharp glares when it was brought up. So you were not poked and prodded for answers to your sudden refusal.

Currently laying on your bed, you rubbed a hand over your tired eyes. The blanket beneath you shifted as you turned, annoying you. You needed to find a distraction— something to keep your mind from wandering to wondering what a certain somebody might be doing at the party happening right now. You found yourself surveying your room in search of anything to clean to appease this.

The lights dangling across your walls lit the small area a warm golden, showcasing the neat and clean walls and dressers. You barely had anything hanging from your walls.. spare a few photos and a calendar labeled with pink pen marks. Not a single thing was out of place or messy. Just like your appearance, you pride yourself on an absolutely perfect living space. Books tucked into shelves by color. Clothes hung in your closet by type and size. Even your desk had no sign you were an overly stressed university student.

You raise yourself from the plush pillow on your bed, tying your hair into a neat ponytail as you stand. You get to work quickly. You rearrange the soft colored comforter to be even.. styling the pillows to appear untouched. It wasn’t like anyone would ever see it, but the perfection of it all gave you a sense of calm nothing else could.

Looking too long made you think of the dark blue blanket on that bed, on being fucked into the much stiffer mattress. God, the thought made shame boil up in your stomach. Unable to tell if that shame came from the act itself or the absolute zero contact that followed it. Not wanting to think about it, you move to the desk in your room, grabbing a folder to tuck it away.

The only noise is the wooden floorboard that creaks under your feet— otherwise completely silent. There aren't many times like this when you live in a house full of young adult women, so you welcome the silence happily.

However, it isn’t quiet for long. You can hear the telltale sound of the large wooden door up front slamming open. It springs a frown to your face as you quickly glance at the small alarm clock on your desk. It was only around Ten, no way were the girls home already.

The noise continues, footsteps much too noisy to be any of your friends stomping up the stairs and down the hallway. You pause as they get closer.

A million options race your mind at what may be happening. Dina coming home early after a fight with her boyfriend Jesse. Another member sneaking a boy into her room (which was heavily against the rules from your sorority leaders..). Maybe even an axe murderer. When they harshly knock at your door, you begin to lean toward the third option.

Not a single pocket of your mind however thought of what came next.

“Open your door.”

It’s loud and angry sounding, and very obviously Ellie’s voice.

The folder in your hand drops to the ground, and you scramble to pick it up as quietly as possible. You don’t answer at first, though you guess she could have heard the squeak that passed your lips when her fist slammed again on the door.

“I know you’re in that room. Your name is on the fucking door, just open it.”

The tone leaves little room for you to get out of the situation, so you instead quickly tug your sleep shorts down to cover more of your thighs and walk to the door. Taking a deep breath in to compose yourself, you shuffle slightly. You do your best to fall into that attitude you always had with her as your fingers graze the doorknob. But it’s a bit harder this time to play the stone cold bitch when all that annoyance had been replaced with a sickening sort of need that you tried desperately to ignore.

Still, you put a tight lipped frown on your face as you open the door. “What the fuck do you want Ellie?”

Ellie looks at you, still wearing her jacket and backpack she brought to parties to sell her weed. She looked good, even dressed as messily as this. The backpack clued you into the fact she may have left the party, but you can’t fathom why.

Her cheeks are a shade of red that you hadn’t ever seen before. Her lip is bitten raw— which makes you queasy if you think about it too long. Her hair is tugged into that style that you so desperately hate again. It’s the first time in weeks you had seen her face, and it all makes you so dizzy.

“What the fuck do I want? That's how you wanna greet me after this shit?” Ellie scoffed, pulling you out of your mind. “Let me in your room.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms and standing directly in front of the gap in the door.

“Let me in the room or I swear to fucking god I will scream so loud everyone on the block will know i’m here.”

The childish comment makes you roll your eyes, comforting yourself in the familiar fire it brings about. You settle into it easily, like a blanket over frozen skin. It's much easier than whatever your emotion surrounding her has been lately. You can work with this. You can keep her away with this.

“Fine, but you can’t have that in my room, it smells like weed.” You motion your head to her bag, still vehemently against that awful smell that you had grown accustomed to smelling on her the past months.

Ellie was not exactly in the mood to take orders from you, as the weeks of anger from your ghosting was now spilling over like boiling water in a pot. Ever since that night she had been tightly wound up. Your missing appearances at the parties only made it worse.

But still she shrugged the backpack off of her shoulders, harshly shoving it to the ground outside your door and stepping in as you tried to protest the sorority girls seeing it.

She didn’t listen to any of your words, slamming the door shut behind you two, taking in your room with a quick glance. “Tell me why you’re avoiding the parties.”

Having Ellie in your space made you itchy all over— you picked at the skin of your nails to calm yourself. You eyed the way she stepped, watched her look around at your belongings. Of course you didn’t answer her question . “Can you avoid the rug if you aren’t gonna take off your shoes? It’s white.”

Ellie looked at you straight in the eyes as she raised her foot and stepped onto the carpet. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Answer my fucking question.”

“Get off my fucking carpet,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest again. You were both being childish now, a trait that only seemed to come out of you around her.

Ellie again went directly against what you asked. Instead stepping over your carpet again to make her way toward your neatly tucked in bed. She looked at the colors there, gentle pastels and whites. It doesn’t surprise her. Just as soft as you. But that also isn’t what she's here to focus on.

“Answer me,” she asks again, this time just a tad softer.

You refuse to meet her eyes— instead moving to finally put your folder back in its place on your shelf. You stay silent as your mind works through what to say next.

“Are those fucking color coded?”

You shoot a glare at Ellie, but it doesn’t work on her. It never really has. She doesn’t look away like any other college kid would around you. She just looks straight back.

“I’m sick Ellie, that's why I haven’t been to parties. I also happen to actually care about my grades and studying unlike you.”

The jab falls from you too easily. You almost feel bad for it, but Ellie doesn’t seem phased. She looks at the pictures near your bed, and then back to you. Standing directly across from you now, she takes another moment to answer.

“That’s bullshit and you and I both know it.”

Shrugging, you turn back to your desk. “Don't know what you mean. I have no reason to lie.”

You can hear Ellie make a noise behind you, and you just know she’s shaking her head in that disbelieving way.

“No reason, really Y/N?” Her voice is near now— almost like she’s stepping closer. You breathe in sharply and try to busy yourself fixing pens on your desk. Her calling you by name almost shakes you as much as her being here in the first place. No nicknames you claimed to hate.. just a harsh tone.

You can’t answer, shaking your head. You just need a moment to collect yourself, to find something inside that can make you strong enough to face her and tell her to get the fuck out.

You are not given that chance, a wandering hand moving to the hem of your tanktop to stop you from moving. It makes the top feel much too revealing now, goosebumps popping up on your arms immediately. The hand moved to turn you around. You go without a fight. But your palms grip the wood of the desk behind you when you are met with Ellie’s close by frame. It feels too reminiscent of you pressed against the edge of that bed in the frat house. You focus your eyes behind her to at least find solace in not having to meet her gaze.

“Nothing of importance happened at the last party you went to?” She pried, “Nothing to make you nervous to go to the next?”

“Nope.”

Ellie seemed to absolutely hate that answer, rolling her eyes and letting her hand fall from its place on your skin.

“Still a bitch I see. You leave me on your doorstep after I fuck you, and then completely avoid me for weeks? Now you have the damn nerve to act like none of it happened?”

The way she says the words makes you want to fall in on yourself. Ellie sounds angry still, undoubtedly. But there’s something else there.. something that sounds like hurt.

“It was just a hookup, Ellie. You have no right to show up here. You said I needed to get laid, so I got laid. Didn’t think it was mind blowing enough to warrant a response like this.” You motion to her.

The words are said in an even tone— desperately trying to cling to any semblance of nonchalantness. But it's mean, you know that. To act like it meant little more than if you had jumped the bones of one of those frat boys who clawed after you. It was harsh to act like that hadn’t been the best fucking sex of your life. But mean and harsh was what you were best at when it came to Ellie.

The sentence didn’t have the intended effect on Ellie though, who knew your tricks too well to actually feel wounded. No, it just made her more fucking frustrated with you. On how you could try and deny how much of a mess she had made you. There was no way you had forgotten, she sure as hell hadn't. “Right. Not mind blowing enough but it made you run scared from any party I may be at.”

“You think too highly of yourself Ellie. It hasn’t crossed my mind once.” It’s obviously a lie as soon as you say it. The way your voice wavers enough for Ellie to pick up on leaves no room to deny it.

She watches you, jaw tensing. Her eyes shift around and you can tell she’s mulling over her next decision.

When she finally speaks, it's in an annoyingly high pitched tone. “Oh Ellie please touch me,” she begins taunting.

You shove her away quickly, a fast flame rising in your stomach. You know exactly what she’s doing. How could you forget those words?

She doesn’t stop, placing a hand on her chest as she continues to speak. “No one else ellie,” she pulls out a faux moan that makes you want to slam your head into the desk. “Wanna make you feel good, el..” she continues to recount your own words back at you in a whiny tone.

It works, the mocking she’s doing. Shame bubbles up in you and pulls at each nerve on your body. You feel hot all over, stomach churning and feet pressing heavily into the floor under you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you demand, slapping her arm as you puff little angry breaths out. Her posture is less tight now, the embarrassing joke seeming to calm her. Of course it did.

Ellie doesn’t stop, the sting of the slap only drawing her close to you again. A smile dawns on her freckled face as she continues her teasing. The quick switch from steadily angry and serious to this.. it throws you for a loop.

“Had you fucking crying for me, princess. Now you wanna act like it was some subpar hookup?”

Your mind tries to straighten out your thoughts, pick through your brain to find a worthy retaliation. But there is none. She had you snared tightly in this trap. You had no fucking way out. No snarky remark could free you from the powerless feeling currently falling over you. Your heart pulses under your tight chest and you can only manage a scoff in response.

It amuses Ellie enough to draw a laugh from her. One completely at your expense. “What? Can’t deny it?”

When you resort to silence and a mean look, Ellie smiles widely. “Don’t even need you to say it, I got the answer I was looking for. Its driving you fucking crazy that you liked it so much? Right? Can’t stop thinking about it?” Her feet drag closer, finger moving to grace over the goosebumps on your arm. “Avoid coming to parties ‘cause you know I’ll be there right baby?”

The way she coo’s the pet name makes you want to wobble. But you refuse to give in.

“Too scared you’d want me again? That it wouldn’t even take you ten minutes to be begging at my feet to steal you off to a bedroom?”

You try to turn your chin away and avoid her seeing your blush, but she grabs your face so you have to look at her.

“You know how easy it was to make you all pathetic, princess? You knew it wouldn’t be hard to get you all whiny like that again, Didn’t you?”

You shake your head to deny it, but the way you tremble under her touch gives it away.

“I should leave you here, you know? Get you all worked up then walk off. Just like you did to me.”

Something blossoms in you to hear her admit you got her worked up. That you had affected her even a fraction as much as she had to you. You swallow it down like nails in your throat, gulping.

She pauses her constant stream of taunts to look down at your shirt and shorts. So pretty and expensive. So you. Now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” She’s speaking lowly— cutting off her words before they can seem desperate. She wants this just as badly as you try to deny you do, and you know that. You know you have a moment to decide your next course of action. To scream at her to get off you, to kick her to the curb and protect yourself from the mess sure to follow whatever would happen. You knew there was no going back if you did this again.

You don’t. You don’t say a single fucking thing. And that’s plenty of an answer for Ellie. She moves quickly to remove the hand from your chin— instead moving it to your shoulder. “Get on your knees.”

The demand finally gets words out of you, eyebrows furrowing. “Huh?”

“Get on your knees.” she repeats. Ellie’s tone is harsh again, back to whatever space she seems to enter around you. She pushes you a bit— showing exactly what she wants you to do.

It doesn’t take much of a shove to fall to the hard wood of the floor. She didn’t even move you to the carpet. Fucking dick.

You try to bite back the overwhelming shame it gives you to look up under your lashes at Ellie. She watches you, waiting for you to adjust as she walks around you to lean against the desk.

“You remember what you said before I took you home? That you wanted to make me feel good?” Ellie hums, tilting her head down at you.

“Stop bringing that up,” you grit.

“You aren’t exactly in the position to be making demands, princess.” She brings her foot forward to tap your knees gently.. reminding you of the fact you are quite literally beneath her.

“You owe me, got me so fucking worked up y’know?” Her hand moves down to work on the button of her old jeans. The realization of what was coming shakes you, heart jumping into your throat.

You don’t answer, instead watching as she motions to you. “C'mere baby, take my pants off for me.”

It feels demeaning, the way you crawl forward slightly to be directly at her feet. Staring at her, you make a small groan, hoping she may spare the embarrassment.

It was embarrassing nonetheless, even more so when she shook her head and again motioned for you to move. It made you sick how easily you had fallen to your knees. Figuratively and literally. How quickly she had coaxed submission out of your usually stubborn demeanor was almost pathetic. You do it anyway, manicured fingers raising to the denim and pulling it down with a blush. You pull them from her legs and watch as she kicks them into a pile with her shoes. On top of your white carpet of course.

You look up at her again, watching as her expression changes at this sight. “So fuckin pretty on your knees for me baby.”

The praise makes you squirm— the warmth now radiating into your lower belly.

“Want you to make me feel better. Think I deserve that after you leave me high and dry hm?”

It’s true, even more so than you would like to admit. It was a total asshole move to ghost her after both of you implied there would be something more. Right now it isn’t a very serious dig— not when she knows what's coming.. but it still has you feeling desperate to make up for it.

It takes a lot to force the next words out of your throat, “Yea.” The one word feels like admitting you were wrong, that she had the power. So it's hard to say, still ruled by the embarrassment all of this situation brings.

She debates forcing you to say more, but you still seem to be only dipping into that pool of submission you had been in last time.. so she gives you a moment.

“Want you to let me fuck your face, can you do that for me?”

You want to stand up right then. You want to refuse to do something so degrading, you want to ignore the way the words make you feel. But you can’t. Not right now. Not for her.

However she won't get an answer out of you, just a nod of permission. The silence annoys her, hand moving to pull at your tied up hair in response despite promising herself a slow start. “Stop the silent act, answer me. Tell me you want this.”

You clench your jaw, not ready to give in. When she gives another tug to your hair, this one harsh enough to pull a yelp from you.. it makes you change your mind.

“Yes Els, I want this, I want to make you feel good.”

The words start off quietly, still finding your footing to avoid burning alive from embarrassment. But as you continue, as you watch the way she seems so pleased to hear it.. It becomes easier. It's more natural when you add in another, “please.”

How she had this pretty little stuck up sorority girl wrapped around her finger was enough to make her wet, but the way you stared up at her, mouth slightly agape upon seeing the black boxers she was wearing, god did it make it even better.

“Alright princess, open your mouth ‘n stick out your tongue for me,” Ellie requests, pulling her boxers off as you do so. It feels too wrong to steal any glance at her body.. despite how you wanted to. It was more than you had ever seen, as she was completely dressed when she had gotten you in a position like this before. Surprisingly having been the put together one in that situation.. and you had an inkling it would end similarly today.

But you can't help it, eyes following her movement as you come eye to eye with her glistening centre. If you had been more mouthy still- you would have made a comment about how wet she was. But the sight renders you speechless. Licking your lips as you squeeze your own thighs together. “Ready?” she asks— tone too even, mouth too harshly pulled into a straight line. The auburn haired girl is trying far too hard to act unaffected by you under her.

Her tattooed hand grips your hair even tighter, a burning sensation pulsing through your scalp as she pulls you closer. You welcome the pain and the dizzying sort of calm it lulls you into. Nodding, you open your mouth again to please her.

Another second passes and then she’s pressing down into you, your nose bumping her throbbing clit. It again makes another pulse of confidence run through you at the undeniable sign she needed this. Needed you.

You make quick work of kitten licking over her slit, happily drinking down the wetness there. You hear small grunts above you, and know you’re doing the right thing as you press your face further in to collect more of her taste on your tongue. You don’t care that your knees already hurt, or about the pain in your neck from leaning it back this much. Ellie certainly didn’t either as she began rocking against your lips. She trembles over you as your nose bumps into her clit again.

“Fuck, shoulda done this earlier. So much better with your mouth like this. No bitchy comments to make, hm?” Ellie says into the air, trying to hold back noises. Your eyes catch as she tilts her head back and speeds up her pace though. You flatten your tongue against her, letting her take control now.

“Shit,” she grunts again, face screwing up as she pulls your hair back and forth to move with her. Your comfortability goes completely out of the window when her stomach starts to tighten. Ellie is moving harshly against you, not caring that she's spreading her wetness all across your chin and mouth— not stopping when you start to gasp for air.

Your nails move to grip into her thigh, leaving little crescent moon shapes there. It doesn’t slow her down, more continuous grunts falling from her bitten lips. Desperate to hear more of the sounds you suck up the suffocating feeling. If you were to die here, it would be fucking happily. You continued to try your best to lap at her even with the rapid movements.

Her hips stutter, finally pushing a full moan out of her. It’s music to your ears, ringing through your mind. “Jesus, baby,” she continues, pausing on her words for another moan. You hear a slight whine there, one that makes you go unsteady. “Just like that princess, gonna come in your mouth. Fuck, I cant believe i got you like this.”

The blunt and dirty words make you whine against her, begging with more scratches down her thighs for it. for her.

Seeing you worked up over just giving her pleasure, it sends that final shockwave through her and her hips completely stop. She pulls on your hair with her fist enough for you to cry out as she works herself through the orgasm. She rocks her hips slowly for a few seconds after that, watching on as you try desperately to collect all that you can from her slit. It almost makes her come again to see it. To see how obsessed you are with her. How you searched for more

When she pulls you back by your ponytail, your chin is shiny with her. You want to complain, want to press forward and make her come again. But you can't make any words, not when she breathes out to steady her chest. Not when her hands shake as they let your hair go, moving to pull up her boxers. It tilts your universe completely off axis to see her so close to crumbling, so Un-Ellie like. You wonder if this is how she feels when you fall apart for her. You don't have long to pause on this thought before Ellie is forcing you up onto your feet, laughing when you stumble like a newborn deer.

“Ya look so messy,” she compliments, wiping a hand to clean your chin. Her green eyes meet your glistening lips, and watches as you suck the bottom one between your teeth. It drives her crazy, something telling her she may be addicted to making you fall into a state like this. Just like she had in that frat party.

“Should I leave you like this? Go have a smoke and let you get off on your own?” Ellie questions, moreso to herself. She really should, as a lesson for you. To get back at you for the last time. But god, the way you look at her, completely ready to listen.. How can she resist?

“Fuck you,” you bite— only making her smile more. There you were, even under all that cloudiness Ellie brought over you.. your attitude was still there.

“You just did, pretty,” her finger rubs over your splotchy cheek, no doubt a result from the air you were not getting when your face was pressed between her thighs.

“Ellie..” you mumble, beginning to actually worry she would leave. She had every right to. But the wetness you feel in your panties, the burn between your thighs.. it's making you ready to get on your knees again to beg.

She sighs, walking across your floor until she hits your bed, tumbling back on it. “Hm?”

“Im-” you puff air into your cheeks for a long breath, following her like a lost puppy. It brings that addicting feeling of power back into Ellie’s body, and she lounges herself comfortably on your comforter. “You're what.. tell me..” she tilts her head.

“Ellie cmon,” you can't help the whine to your voice. “I need you.” You mumble as you crawl onto your bed and on top of her. The sight amuses Ellie, who watches you with little interest.

“Dunno, I'm pretty tired,” Ellie shrugs, stretching out and leaning against your pillows. You fight the urge to tell her off for it, much more focused on getting rid of the ache between your legs. you pout, unable to stop it. “El..” you are full out whining now— only further egged on into your desperation when she lets you move to straddle her waiting lap. You want to start moving immediately, but something deeper in you tells you to stay put until Ellie gives you anything.

“I could really go for a joint right now, honestly..” she trails off, meeting your gaze. “Fuck off,” you cant help but say— clawing at your own shirt. You pull it off, tossing it messily onto your floor. It makes your stomach twist for a split second, not taking it to the hamper. But that wasn’t exactly top priority. When the air hits your nipples they hardern immediately, drawing Ellie’s attention.

The green eyed girl’s jaw clicks at your insult, and at how you had shoved your shirt off before she could. She was getting there, really. But you were too impatient, like always.

“I'm not getting you off,” she finally decides, clearly speaking. But she still reaches forward to run a thumb over your peaked nipple, making you involuntarily buck into her. The feeling of your center finding friction on her lap pulls a small sound from you. Ellie hums at how responsive you are, “But you can.”

You aren’t quite sure what she means, but hands quickly come to shift you onto only one of her thighs.. and you quickly understand. “You wanna get off baby? Ride my thigh. Get off all on your own.”

Ellie yawns like she couldn’t care less, leaning back and watching you, fingers rubbing circles on your hips.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you whine, unhappy you were not getting your own way. Ellie shrugs again, and you want to wipe the pleased look off of her freckled cheeks. She gives you a head start by dipping her fingers into the elastic of your shorts. “Yea.. im an asshole, im a gross drug dealer, you're so much better than me..” she chastises, watching you lift your hips as she pulls the silky shorts and lace panties down your legs. You let it happen all too easily. “But who’s the one pulling off her pretty little pajamas to get off on my thigh?” she questions.

You can't deny that, definitely not as Ellie stimulates the first rock of your hips down against her mostly bare thigh. The feeling washes over you, eyes rolling back. Any grip you still had over yourself and your control is drowned out by the feeling. It’s embarrassing to admit how wet you are, how wet eating her out had made you. Of course she comments on it, always looking to shame you.

“Fuck, can feel you dripping on me princess— always so wet for me, hm? So much for not mind blowing huh?” She asks, letting her hands still so you can continue the movements on your own.

“El..” you gasp, blinking quickly as one hand rests on her shoulder, getting a better angle to let your hips move against her— whimpering at the wet pressure of yourself against her.

Her eyes catch your own, before dropping to where you are rutting down on her thigh. At first you aren’t sure it will be enough— your sore knees now accompanied by burning muscles. But you know this is your only option. It sure does help when she leans forward though, no longer fighting against her want to press lips against your neck.

The marks from last time were now almost completely gone, much to her dislike. This could have been completely avoided if you hadn’t been such a fucking bitch. If you had just gone to the parties and let her leave you with a fresh set of bruises each time.

“Fuck,” you huff when she bites at your skin meanly. Your movements falter from the rush of pain it brings. “Gonna let me mark you up, aren’t you baby? Make sure everyone knows your mine?”

The word mine sends you for a loop, and you pause slightly on it. Too desperate to get off, you don't comment on it. But it makes your stomach do flips, inable to tell if they are good or bad.

The threat is not an option for you, that was clear enough when she doesn't let up the harsh sucks and teeth marks on your throat. “If you fucking cover these up I will do it over and over again,” Ellie threatens, only making you whine louder. Your arm wraps around her back, pulling her even closer into the crook of your neck. She presses comforting kisses there to soothe the burning pain from all the bites.

“Won't,” you promise quickly, grinding even quicker down into her. Neither of you can be sure if you are just saying it in the heat of the moment.. but it affects you both all the same.

What you ask next is a shock to both of you. “Kiss me, El please kiss me,” you beg. Her face pokes out from your neck, questioning your words only for a second. She doesn’t ask before pressing her lips into yours, kissing you for the first time tonight. You’re quick to respond, following her lead in the quickly deepening kiss.

She swallows every single noise you make, tongue swirling around your mouth when you moan into her. Your hips are moving erratically now, your moans getting even louder against the kiss. Ellie kisses you harder, a bruising and hot kiss— both of you gasping against it.

This is far more intimate than the first time you slept together, the way you refuse to pull back from your lips even as you feel your orgasm rising up and up. She doesn’t allow for any room either, eager to bite at your lip, to let her hand move to knead at your tit. The new sensation overhwlems you, a repeated “fuck fuck fuck,” pressing against the kiss as you are finally sent toppling over into an orgasm. Even as it hits you, even as your hips stutter, you don’t pull back from the kiss.

Not until Ellie does first, her hand moving back to your hip when you slow. She forces you hardly back down against you, and your ears ring. “S-stop,” you whine— suddenly far too overwhelmed. Ellie doesn’t listen, guiding your hips to continue grinding down, even in your over sensitive state. She wants to pull another orgasm out of you, and she states so when you try to pull away.

“Dont fucking move away from me,” she demands. “Want you to come on my thigh again. Know you can take it. Know you want it,” she continued, bordering on slurring out the words. The auburnette seems almost as dizzy from this as you are.

You can feel your eyes sting, pussy throbbing against her thigh as she forced you to keep moving, rising to your peak at a record pace. “I can’t,” you babble, shaking your head quickly.

“Of course you can baby, look at the mess you made on me already,” your eyes follow her directions immediately, finding her thigh sticky with your slick. “So messy, so fucking pathetic. Getting off on my thigh, pathetic enough to come again.”

Tears spring to your eyes, stomach clenching. “Fuck, Ellie— fuck,” you cry out, tilting your head back to gasp. With how loud you are, you better hope none of your sorority sisters will be home early. You have no idea how much time had passed since Ellie walked through your bedroom door, but it felt like a lifetime.

Ellie’s free hand trails up your chest, fingers dancing across your collarbone. You just looked so pretty with your already reddening neck.. she couldn’t help as her palm rested on your throat, fingers wrapping around it experimentally. The loud cry the slightest pressure coaxed out of you pushes Ellie to grip harder.

“Of course you like this,” Ellie scoffs, admiring the way your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open to wheeze. “Jesus, you really are such a slut, crying for me to choke you? All fucked out for me?” Ellie bites— but it falls upon fuzzy ears, your senses all going haywire as you sob, unable to catch your breath. It just all feels so amazing. Her thigh, her hand, the way she spits the words at you. You're coming again before you can even say anything, throbbing against her thigh as you fall forward into her, her hand releasing your neck as you do.

Ellie coos against your ear as you tremble through your aftershocks, calling you every sweet name under the sun. “So good for me, my perfect girl, so perfect.”

You cry into her, hot tears against your own cheeks and her neck. You whine sharply when she lifts you off, leaning down to pull off her sweatshirt. It confused you, blurry eyes quickly wiped by her thumbs. “Lay down,” she commands, and you can only babble incoherent begs for her as she stands and searches around your room, sweating as she throws her sweatshirt into the growing pile of clothes.

It leaves her only in her boxers and sports bra , and you watch on in slight amazement as her abs flex as she bends around looking for something. First she tugs her backpack into your room before you can protest. Then she’s back to searching. When she finally finds something to clean her thigh off with, she brings it back to you, wiping you clean again.

Still deep in your sub space, you grasp at her, and she happily complies climbing into the bed, welcoming as you press against her, searching for skin to skin contact.

You aren’t sure what the morning will bring. Not sure how you will feel when you wake up pressed against the one girl you swore to hate at this whole school. But you don't really care. You listen to her slowly lowering heartbeat as exhaustion pulls you into its arms.

You fall asleep against Ellie, and it’s the best fucking rest you have had in fourteen days.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader

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joon4eva · 8 months

Text

just the tip? — kim namjoon.

genre: established relationship au.

summary: you and namjoon are left alone together for a little too long. or: in your childhood home, you learn just how much is really "just the tip" with namjoon.

word count. 3,994 words.

warnings. semi-public sex, namjoon doesn't need much convincing, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex but reader is on birth control, creampie, namjoon takes oc's underwear.

note: happy early bday to our leader who keeps me sane and motivates me to keep living everyday. here is some horny fluff word vomit inspired by all the content we've been getting of namjoon looking delicious in his buzzcut lately. i couldn't resist. pics above are from @rkivsfe ♡

Namjoon seemed plucked straight from the pages of a classic romance, a perfect gentleman in every sense.

Throughout the day, your parents had been gracious hosts at their house, and Namjoon had gracefully navigated each conversation, his charismatic charm and impeccable manners in full display.

Yet, it wasn't the refined qualities occupying your mind; rather, it was his freshly buzzed hair and the allure of his domesticated moments – like when he insisted on helping your mother – that made your heart race, feverish heat flooding your core at the thought of creating a home with him someday.

The both of you had never really properly broached the topic of children, especially since you were on birth control. While you had only been dating for two years, discussions of having children had stayed respectfully on the back burner; the decision to wait until marriage, or at least until life was less hectic, appeared sensible to both of you.

For now, life as it was felt fulfilling.

But lately, as you watched Namjoon tenderly cradle a friend's baby or playfully chase nieces and nephews at family gatherings, you began to see the appeal of having a family with Namjoon. It was hard not to want it sometimes.

It took every ounce of restraint not to lunge at him right there, an insatiable hunger bubbling within, barely contained.

And when the rest of your family continued to mingle in the backyard, that was the moment you decided it was time to make your move.

Namjoon's eyes narrowed perceptively, instantly detecting the undercurrent of mischief in your stride.

Your smile, wide and radiant, was Oscar-worthy enough to mask your ulterior motives from everyone else; however, Namjoon could see right through your seemingly innocent offer of showing him a 'tour' of your childhood bedroom.

Determinedly, you grasped his arm firmly and practically dragged him up the staircase of your parents’ house and up to your old room located at the far end of the second-floor hallway.

—

To his credit, Namjoon nearly fell for your act.

He attentively followed along while you animatedly led him around the room; pointing out the remnants of your teenage years evident in the faded posters of pop bands adorning the walls, a meticulously arranged collection of Studio Ghibli figurines that adorned shelves, and a colorful assortment of plush toys scattered about.

Golden sunlight pours through the window, playing on the sparkle in your eyes as your sundress embraces every curve. Beneath Namjoon’s clothes, a nagging ache intensifies, matched by the growing warmth and strain in his pants as he admires your radiance.

Slowly, time seemed to suspend itself, while the walls in your room appeared to close in on you both. Soon enough, you found yourselves standing face-to-face, completely absorbed by each other's presence.

“You okay?” you ask in a hushed tone.

Namjoon's eyes sparkle with mischief, his eyes shamelessly lingering on your figure. The corners of his mouth turn up in a cheeky grin.

"I know what you’re thinking."

Brows knitting together, you blink in feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about," you murmur, eyes evading his as your arms cross protectively.

“Oh, of course. You were just so eager to show me your room,” he states matter-of-factly.

Namjoon’s grin grows wider as he confidently strides closer, hands casually tucked in his pockets. “Nothing more to it, right baby?”

What a fucking tease.

Warmth creeps up your cheeks as nervous laughter bubbles up, eyes avoiding his penetrating stare – Namjoon always had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book.

It was something that instantly made heat bloom between your thighs. And when he was looking at you like that, it was impossible to hide anything from him.

He tilts his head and studies you with an arched brow. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The bedroom eyes. I’ve seen it before.”

“I do not!” you manage to choke out, the words nearly vanishing from your throat.

Namjoon just chuckles, disarmingly smug. “Hm. If you say so.”

Within moments, you uncross your arms and navigate the remaining distance, your hands coming up to explore the contours of his body – fingertips slipping under his shirt, feeling the muscles tensing in his back before coming around and daintily migrating northward across his chest.

Namjoon leans down, claiming your lips with a fleeting kiss. "We probably shouldn't," he breathes out softly against your parted lips.

"Hmmm," you pout. "And why not?"

Not waiting for an answer, your lips continue their exploration – slowly moving from his lips, tracing the angles of his jaw, and dancing between gentle nibbles and fervent suction.

Beneath his shirt, your fingers tease his chest, leaving light scratches before brushing against his sensitive nipples.

It only took seconds before you could feel how hard and ready Namjoon was, as his skin burned hotter beneath your touch and his breaths grew shallow.

Trying to suppress a groan and maintain some level of composure, Namjoon bites down on his lip and whispers your name with an unsteady voice.

"Your family is literally downstairs."

“They’re actually outside.”

Smiling mischievously, you return your attention to him by licking a slow stripe from his neck to the sensitive spot just below his ear – a place you’ve discovered he particularly enjoys being teased.

“I can’t promise I’ll want to stop at just kissing,” he warns with equal parts desperation and plea – a last attempt at cracking your resolve as his hands reflexively grip your waist in a manner both possessive and protective.

“And what?” you breathe out, each word soft and slow, a challenge in disguise. “Where would you want to stop?”

“I won’t.”

Softening your gaze, you allow your lips to ghost over his. “Then don't hold back,” you whisper, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His heated gaze flickers across every inch of you – taking in your expression, the way your body presses against his. You couldn't resist further taunting him.

Your hands slide down his chest and towards the belt loops of his jeans, giving them a playful tug before swiftly moving to unbutton them.

It’s at this moment that Namjoon seems to snap out of his haze.

His lust-addled stupor evaporates like lifting fog, replaced by a rush of clarity where the lines between right and wrong become difficult to blur.

Suddenly decisive, he intercepts your wandering hands with a firm but gentle hold.

“____. No.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you promise him, a sultry smirk playing on your lips, both tempting and dangerous.

“Baby. We are not fucking in your parents’ house—especially in broad daylight.”

"Oh, Joonie…" you sigh lovingly, pressing a tender and lingering kiss to the small mole just below his lip.

"Always such a gentleman. Holding my hand, praising me in front of my parents, even charming my mom... You don’t wanna fool around with me here?"

Namjoon's mouth opens as if to protest further, but any words that threaten to come out are swallowed up by a groan that he struggles to stifle at the sensation of you swiftly tugging down his jeans and boxers, just enough for you to wrap your warm, tight hand around his thick length.

"You’re…s-seriously out of your mind. We…we really shouldn't," he manages to utter, each word strained by the effort he puts into maintaining control – his dark eyes burning with barely restrained desire.

You pause your movements and look into his eyes. "We can make it quick. I promise I'll be quiet."

But you knew Namjoon had always preferred taking things slow, savoring every moment, especially during sex with you. He was never really a fan of rushing, and you learned along the way he was big on foreplay.

Yet seeing you present yourself before him like a priceless treasure, accompanied by batting those alluring, pleading eyes at him, Namjoon can't help but consider going against his instincts for once – if only for five fleeting minutes.

“I knew you didn’t want to bring me up here just to—Fuck, hold on. Wait,” he stammers, suddenly remembering, “I– I don’t have any condoms. Well, I didn’t bring any, for obvious reasons.”

An awkward silence settles between you two as the unspoken question lingers, and you gaze into his eyes, searching for an answer.

His eyes widen just a fraction when he realizes what you’re silently asking.

“God, are you…—? No," he says firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But I've been on birth control for years!" you whine.

Namjoon closes his eyes briefly and exhales sharply, tension radiating from his clenched jaw.

“Babe,” he utters with a heavy sigh.

"Namjoon," your voice is barely audible as you breathe the plea into the curve of his neck, the warm air causing a shiver of desire to course through him.

Your thumb glides across the tip of his cock, smearing the glistening pearl of pre-cum that gathers from the tip.

Your lips begin to trail gentle kisses along the length of his throat, all while teasingly drawing the tip of your fingers up and down his shaft.

Namjoon's breath catches in response to your touch, gasping as he involuntarily thrusts upwards to meet your hand.

“What about ‘just the tip’?” you whisper. “Isn’t that something that guys like to do?”

“Well… I-I’m paranoid and we should be careful,” he stammers out. “It only takes one time, you know. Can’t this wait until we get home?”

Noticing his faltering resolve, your lip catches between your teeth to suppress a sly grin. Wordlessly, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him.

He watches transfixed as your tongue traces a slow path up the engorged vein of his cock, pausing to swirl around the head before taking him fully into your warm mouth.

Namjoon emits a soft groan - hands delicately cradling your jaw - while your cheeks hollow and your head begins to bob rhythmically, dewy eyes peeking out from beneath your lashes to watch him.

His head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut, fighting to restrain a moan as desire shoots through him like wildfire, fuelling your own craving for him even more fervently.

You could sense him teetering on the edge, his self-restraint waning with each moment until, in one deft motion, he withdraws from your mouth just enough to stagger back, hoisting you up by your arms and steering you backwards until the mattress edge halts against your knees and topples you onto it.

“You’re fucking shameless, you know that?” he pants, scrambling to shove his pants further down and stepping between your legs, holding his hard cock and leaning over you.

Below him, you giggle and hurriedly push your dress up, sliding your panties down and kicking them aside.

Grabbing your wrists, he pulls them over your head and pins them there.

And as his body aligns with yours – his strong chest firm against your breasts, his crotch deliciously nestled between your thighs – every last drop of doubt vanishes from both of your minds.

Under the sultry gaze of his darkened eyes, he grips your face, his large hands cupping your delicate cheeks, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin.

Your mouths meet urgently; his lips hungrily pressing against yours to lick and tug at your bottom lip, expertly swallowing every stifled sound that begs release.

"Joon," you murmur tenderly against his parted lips, pausing between kisses. "Touch me, please."

Your honeyed pleas don't go unanswered; Namjoon's hands swiftly comply with your demand, gently pulling down the elastic neckline of your dress far enough to let your breasts spring free.

"Such a tease, wearing this," Namjoon grunts, grabbing a fistful of your dress, "fuck."

His eyes darken at the sight before him: your dress invitingly pooled at your waist, thighs parted and slightly glistening from your arousal visible even to him. It was nearly impossible for him to deny you anything at all when you pleaded with that breathy, needy tone.

His lips move with purpose, trailing a series of warm, sweet kisses across your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts – lingering just long enough to elicit a breathy gasp before grazing your stiff nipples with feather-light nips.

You struggle to bite back any gasping moans – honoring the promise you hastily made earlier – with only the softest sighs escaping your pursed lips.

“Feels good?" Namjoon murmurs softly, his hand navigating the space between your bodies to trace delicate circles around your throbbing clit.

"God, you're soaking wet already and I've hardly touched you."

Desperately trying to maintain silence, you find your hips moving instinctually in rhythm with the sinfully slow motions of his long fingers. They gather your slickness, teasingly near your dripping entrance with one finger before returning upward to trace unhurried, deliberate circles on your clit again with two fingers.

“Wanna come first?”

Your bottom lip captured between your teeth, you shake your head.

"Can we… Can you pull out?" breathlessly escapes from your lips.

He groans your name gently, punctuating his words with a delicate nip on your jawline. "What happened to 'just the tip'?"

"I changed my mind," you whine weakly, stifling a frustrated groan when his fingers stop their movements.

Namjoon's chuckle against your skin is light and teasing. "My greedy girl,” he coos affectionately against your lips before pressing a lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Wonder what your parents would think if they knew that right now, their precious daughter was up here with me, legs spread wide and begging for me like this? Hmmm?"

His dirty words make you choke on a barely suppressed moan, but you do nothing to discourage him.

He doesn't pull his fingers away from your aching core – instead, he bends down to lick them clean before gently pressing them back inside of you.

“Please, just please, can we…” your voice falters as it dissolves into unintelligible murmurs, desperate for relief, desperate for him to fill you up the way you want.

"So needy," Namjoon chuckles softly at your struggle for coherence; swiftly replacing his fingers with the head of his cock.

"You’re sure about this?" he whispers hoarsely, the feel of him nudging at your entrance sending already rioting butterflies into overdrive.

Your hands instinctively slide over the firm contours of his backside, urging him closer as your hips rock against his. “Wanna feel you. All of you,” you softly mewl in his ear.

A primal growl emerges from Namjoon’s throat before he nips lightly at the tender flesh of your neck. “So filthy.”

Namjoon finally pushes inside of you, inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you, slowly filling and stretching you in a way that makes your legs shudder and lock around his waist.

His hips still, giving you time to get adjusted, or perhaps in an attempt to try to steady himself.

He nuzzles into your neck, spreading his warm breath all over the soft skin there, nudging aside the fabric of your dress to press a kiss to your bare shoulder.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, fingers dancing across his freshly trimmed head, massaging and scratching softly at his scalp.

Your hips slightly roll to guide him deeper, enticing him to start moving.

It's sheer, unadulterated bliss as he pumps into you, filling you up in perfect harmony with your own unsteady breaths.

It feels even better than you thought – so warm and wet and snug around him, nothing has ever felt as good in your life.

Out of all the things you and Namjoon have tried, this was something that you just haven’t done.

And now you know you were ruined.

Ruined for using a condom ever again with this man. Your pulse is pounding so hard against your ears that it seems impossible to focus on anything else at this moment but him and how good it feels to have him bare inside of you.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Namjoon breathes hotly against the column of your throat. "So tight around me."

He’s fucking into you agonizingly slow and deep; his movements are deliberate and unhurried, each deep, slow stroke filling the air with your muffled moans and the wet sounds of your slick bodies every time his hips snap up against yours.

His hand entwines with yours, palm-to-palm above your head, while his other arm holds you closer by the thigh curled around his waist.

Enveloped in a sensuous fog where your senses blur and bend, you feel him gradually quicken his pace, each thrust growing more intense.

Namjoon nuzzles his face into your neck, soft moans vibrating against your skin.

Teasingly, his pulsating shaft glides out completely – slow, torturously slow – pausing just before thrusting back in; filling you completely, his tip applying pressure to a hidden sweet cluster of nerves within you that ignites an uncontrollable tightening around him.

An unfamiliar sound escapes from your throat – a strange mixture of a whimper and his name – and he gasps before laughter takes over. His hand comes up to quickly muffle your sounds.

"Babe," he warns between giggles and gasps for air. "You promised you'd be quiet."

“But—” your weak rebuttal trails off as warmth spreads across your face and tears gather at the corners of your eyes. “B-but it’s just so… F-feels… so…”

"Shhh, I know," he whispers tenderly against your mouth.

Namjoon’s hand trails from the curve of your thigh to weave through your hair, tightening at the back of your head and pulling you into another heated, sloppy kiss.

“Doing so well for me,” Namjoon whispers between kisses. “Taking it all.” More kisses. Rougher and wetter. “S-so pretty… so fucking pretty wrapped around me like this.”

With each impassioned stroke, you cling to him; muffled moans of his name escaping between breathless kisses as waves of warmth wash over you.

"Want you to come... come inside, Joon, please," you softly plead.

Ardor begins to strain at every seam, your sweet plea threatening to shatter Namjoon's restraint, nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yeah? You close, baby?”

Your eyelids grow heavy, closing tightly as your head fervently bobs in agreement, words failing you.

To this, Namjoon plunges into you with a growl. His cock kisses your g-spot, again and again – and his face is a canvas of pure ecstasy as he thrusts forcefully, his hips colliding with yours while he drives himself even deeper, almost as if he was working to etch himself into your very being.

Your teeth press into his shoulder to muffle your sobs, while your hands frantically wander— sliding under his shirt to rake at the damp skin of his back or bunching at the wrinkled sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as he pounds into you, each powerful motion stealing more breath from your lungs. It’s a drawn-out, slow rolling orgasm that he drags out of you.

He fucks you through your climax; deep, steady thrusts that makes your legs quiver and your eyes lose focus as they roll back.

A low, guttural moan suddenly escapes him as warmth begins to flood every nook and cranny within you, occupying and filling every gap.

The pulsating of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock throbs with each burst of his release, while your own walls tenderly constrict around him.

Your vision is consumed by whiteness as your eyes clench shut from the sheer force of shared euphoria, your mind wonderfully blank.

And then, stillness.

He stays buried inside you, his large frame forming a protective shield around your body, like a giant blanket swaddling you both.

His nose gently nestles against the side of your neck, as the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest comes to match yours, slowly and peacefully. Your legs are still wrapped snugly around his waist, your hand tracing slow, lethargic circles on his back beneath his shirt.

“Holy shit,” you breathe in elation, “we should do that more often.”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. Carefully shifting his weight, he hovers above you, hands on either side of your shoulders. “That good?”

“Yeah,” you exhale with a grin. “Really good.” “Really good,” he echoes with a laughter that dances at the edges of his eyes and alights the depths of his dimples.

And you laugh, too, delightfully dizzy and slightly sticky with perspiration as the sun spills through the window's gaps, rays of golden syrup bathing you in warmth.

Namjoon presses a fleeting but tender kiss to your mouth and gently pulls out of you, leaving a lingering emptiness and a sweet ache in your core that lingers.

His eyes curiously wander down to the apex of your thighs and you watch as his hand wanders down to pry your legs apart, his fingertips holding them open as he watches the warm, viscous fluid of his cum slowly form a trail from your entrance. He traces a gentle finger through the slick aftermath, a satisfied hum resonating as your body shudders with blissful oversensitivity.

In this proximity, he bends down to place a tender kiss on the side of your jaw, with words that now flow like honey. “Think we could make that a priority,” he murmurs.

He follows up with another feathery kiss directly upon your lips - an almost chastely innocent smile dancing across his features, almost sinfully ironic.

You find yourself grinning in response to his obvious overture before letting your hand wander lower on his back.

Slowly, deliberately, almost flirtatiously, it reaches and gropes his rear end. "So would you be open to round two then?" you tease playfully as your fingers pinch just enough for him to know you're serious.

Namjoon’s immediate reaction is priceless – a jolt forward accompanied by an adorably indignant yelp as he tries (and fails) to hide his surprise at your boldness. All he can do is shake his head at you in disbelief before giving in once more to laughter.

Eventually regaining some composure, he chides you gently by flicking your forehead with one finger, mimicking chastisement but betraying nothing but affection. You feign complete agony with a comically exaggerated moan and grip to your forehead, earning another round of laughter from Namjoon.

“Jesus, baby,” he says, exhaling a heavy breath, forcing a laugh. “You’re going to kill me.”

He shifts to a seated position on the mattress next to you before standing up, his back straight and his movements curiously graceful for someone so tall.

Your gaze follows him, transfixed as he grasps the edges of his boxers and jeans, lifting them back over his lean hips.

You have to internally curse at how his shirt clings to him like a second skin, accentuating his broad form as he calmly fastens each button, the muscles in his biceps rippling subtly in the process.

This simple act (an undoubtedly mundane and ordinary action) transforms into a hypnotizing display just by virtue of it being Namjoon.

Shifting your position slightly, you slide the straps of your dress back into place, readjusting the elastic neckline to cover your chest.

Propped up on your elbows, your eyes dart around for your missing panties.

Namjoon seems to be almost telepathic in this moment, glancing over and catching your eye.

Realizing what you're searching for, a playful smirk forms on his lips.

He bends down to retrieve your underwear from its hiding spot on the floor and rather cheekily shoves it into his pocket instead of handing it to you.

Feigning irritation, you huff as he saunters victoriously across the room towards the bedroom door with his stolen trophy secured in his pocket.

“Namjoon,” you protest, now sitting up completely. “I need those!”

"You can have them back later," he calls over his shoulder as he begins opening the door.

The curve of his lips breaking into a gentle smile as he adds, "Let's go home. And don't worry, love - I'll keep these safe for you."

As if to emphasize his point, he gives the pocket safeguarding your panties a delicate pat - one last playful jest before disappearing beyond the doorway.

#knj #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #namjoon imagine #kpop imagines #kim namjoon imagine

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violetsiren90 · 2 months

Text

Nothing But You | Bang Chan/Reader

Pairing: wolf hybrid!Bang Chan x f!human!Reader

Genre: hybrid AU; non-idol AU, strangers to lovers; love in adversity; cozy one-shot; fluff and angst

Word Count: 1434

Summary: The world's not ready for your love, but that doesn't matter. None of it matters - nothing but him.

Part 2: Evergreen (though both can be read as stand-alone works)

Content Warnings: I'd give this a PG-13 for content, but ALL of my work is 18+ (minors, dni); cuddling; co-sleeping; bad weather (but safe indoors); shirtless Chris (Chan is called Christopher); descriptions of hybrid physical features (including some minimal body hair); depictions of prejudice towards, discrimination, and marginalization of hybrids; a character gets lost and is momentarily frightened; allusions to sexual intimacy; implied domestic violence (by an authority figure, not Chris); running away; mention of reproduction (pups); for some reason even though it is explicitly stated I feel the need to mention that Reader and Chris are both adults throughout

Author's Note: I'll tell you what I didn't have planned for this Sunday afternoon and that was a Bang Chan hybrid AU one-shot. But the image of cuddling up with Chan in the middle of a snowstorm took me hostage and now here we are. I've never written a hybrid AU before, so this was very fun! If you read this, I hope this Christopher brings you the comfort you deserve today. 💕

P.S In case no one has told you today, you're so loved and so, so worthy of love. 🧜💜

The icy wind howls, whipping swirling flurries of snow past the windows of the little cabin. You stir, not opening your eyes, heavy with slumber as your other senses remind you of the homey trappings of your shelter. A fire crackles and pops, its warmth licking over your nose and cheeks. A soft, heavy blanket fashioned of rabbit pelts lays over your body, rustling quietly as you nuzzle into the man beneath you.

His chest rises and falls with the even breath of a deep sleep. Your cheek rests against his bare skin and the silky patch of thick, dark hair between his firm pectorals. It isn't really hair - not like yours. It's fur. Soft, dark tufts of it decorate his body everywhere hair would grow on a man; a patch on his chest, under his arms, at the dip of his Adonis belt. It smells like him. Like musk and pine and lavender. Manly and primal, floral and gentle. Christopher.

Hybrids were still treated like dirt in so many ways. They didn't require licenses to live without owners anymore, but still, they were pushed to the margins of the community by the intolerance of common practice. You yourself had been taught to fear them. Monsters, your grandfather had told you, who would turn on their own young in a moment of morbid instinct. Even so, you always found more pity in your heart than terror.

And then, one day, you met him.

You had been loading groceries into the bed of your grandparents' jalopy at the general store and dropped a bag of oats as you struggled to hoist it onto the tailgate. You hadn't even noticed he was beside you when he easily hefted the bag and the remaining two boxes of eggs onto the vehicle without a word. He shot you a little smile, but before you could thank him your eyes were arrested by a pair of sharp brown ears rising from his curly hair. He pulled on a cap and turned to go before you could collect your wits enough to speak.

You had thought of nothing save his warm brown eyes and sweet smiling lips in the weeks that followed, taking any chance you could to steal away to the general store in hopes of seeing him again.

But your paths never crossed. Not until the following summer.

You had packed in to the camping grounds by the lake with a few other girls from your graduating class for a weekend getaway from the menfolk - not that you had any - and you'd joined them rather reluctantly and at the persistence of your grandmother, who insisted a little socialization would do you good.

That first afternoon you quickly grew tired of the chatter. If the weekend was meant to be a reprieve from the men, you grumbled to yourself, then why were they the constant and sole topic of conversation? You gathered up your sketching supplies and walked down the trail a ways, finding that the more distance you put between yourself and the shrieks of laughter and gossip behind you, the better you felt. Soon, you couldn't hear them at all. You settled onto a rock at the edge of a small glen and took your pencil in hand.

Suddenly, some hours later, it dawned on you that your eyes were straining somewhat on the page, and you looked about, startled at the waning light reflecting the late hour. Gathering your things, you hurried back to down the path, only to realize with a sickness in your gut that you were well and truly lost, and that the daylight was nearly spent.

He had found you then, sniffling rather pathetically beside a tree. You'd been alarmed by the sudden sound of his voice, having not heard his furtive approaching steps, but when you raised your frightened eyes to his face the fear had quickly given way to wonder. You'd given up hope of seeing him again, and now here he was, once more in your hour of need.

It was too dark now to find the trail back to the campsite, so you helped divide the load of bracken he had tucked under his arm between you as he led the way back to his cabin, not far into the thick. As you walked you noticed his tail, gray and brown and full behind him. Had he hidden it, that day at the store, you wondered? Did he always when he was around people like you? You remembered how surprised you had been at the site of his pretty ears upon your first meeting and you felt ashamed. You tried to find every possible way to assure him, as you walked and talked, that he didn't frighten you. You hoped he understood.

Before long, you arrived at a little clearing with a log cabin at its heart. Smoke rose invitingly from the chimney, and you found it was as small and homey and warm within as it seemed from the cold darkness of the wood. The stranger gave you bread and stew and hot milk, and you ate with him and told him of yourself and he shared with you in return.

He was a wolf hybrid. The sole survivor of his pack, he had traveled hundreds of miles to settle into the mountains of your home. He made a living hunting, trapping, and gathering the wares of the wild to sell in town, as did a handful of other hybrids living in the mountains - a group of traders known collectively as The Strays. He told you that his name was Christopher, but that most simply called him The Wolf. When you repeated his given name softly and asked if you could call him by it he smiled that smile again, but broader and brighter and with his eyes pressed into little moons and crow's feet in their corners. His canines glinted in the light of the fire and one beautiful dimple pressed into his left cheek.

You were in love.

You asked him, a little shyly before parting the following day, if you could be friends. He smiled sadly and brushed rough fingers over your cheek before telling you that you were already his friend, but that you should keep yourself safe by staying away. People were suspicious of hybrids, and if he were seen with a human woman, it could be dangerous for you both.

At the edge of the campsite, when he turned to go, you grabbed his arm. You told him that every Saturday morning you helped wait tables at Maple's Diner, and that if he came, breakfast would be on the house. You wanted to thank him, you insisted. In truth, you just wanted to give him a chance to find you, should he wish to. Oh, you desperately hoped that he wished to.

And he did. He showed up a few weeks later, ears tucked under a hat and shoulders looking broad in a worn flannel shirt. You gave him coffee and bacon and a pile of pancakes and sat with him when your shift was through. It became a ritual, Saturday mornings at the diner. And then you started meeting for lunch. Then dinner. Then for long walks and trips to the movies. Then he started to take you out for drives in his truck - for picnics in the mountains, to watch the stars from the bed, to never leave the cab or each other's arms as the windows fogged with your labored breaths and mingled heat.

One night your grandparents were waiting up when you returned. Your grandfather was in a rage, your grandmother was all worry and woes. It was a sin, what you were doing, they said. In the eyes of what god, you demanded in return? Your grandmother clung to your arm, begging you to come to your senses - it was dangerous, and worse, you would be ruined for life. You told her that none of that meant anything to you. Only him, he was all that mattered. Only Christopher. To hell with everyone and everything else in that goddamned town that treated him with suspicion and shame - that could never begin to see how perfectly beautiful he was.

Your grandfather forbade you to see him.

You told him you were grown and he couldn't stop you.

He raised his hand, and your grandmother screamed.

When Christopher pulled up in his pickup you were in front of Maple's Diner. He gasped as he crouched to cradle you in his arms and gently brush his fingers over your broken lip and the green bruise on your cheek. He gathered you up, gathered your little bags, and took you home.

Home to the woods.

To the little warm cabin.

To his arms and his heart.

It's the third winter since you left it all behind - everything that tried to keep you from him.

Things are so different now, so simple, slow, steady and intimate in the life you share. You've started talking about pups. Maybe someday. Maybe soon.

You look up at his lovely, peaceful face, washed golden in the firelight, and smile, settling back down against his chest. As the wind howls your eyes slip shut, and you sleep again in the strong, gentle arms of a wolf.

-Fin-

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mariariley · 8 months

Text

Simon Riley x reader

⋆✮⋆ relationship headcanons ⋆✮⋆

2nd person

female reader

NSFW warning

Word count: 1.4k

masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3

I edited this one a little too many times 😭 added bunch of stuff so I’m sorry for the reblogs that aren’t getting the updates

Let’s be honest, it would be a hell of a journey to get with this man

At first, he wouldn’t be interested in you at all

It takes a lot of patience to actually make some kind of bond with him that isn’t merely because you’re a teammate or whatever you imagine in your CoD AU

If you’re patient and stubborn enough, you might get somewhere

If you treat him right, take it easy with him, prove yourself worthy and convince him you genuinely care, it’s a bingo

It might seem like you’re taming a wild animal but it really isn’t. Considering he’s a soldier preoccupied with duty, there’s no room for emotions

Or at least no room for emotions until he learns how to control them and put them aside when it’s mandatory which would take a while

That’s why he’d be slowly letting you in, step by step you’d notice he’d talk with you more and wish to spend more time with you

He wouldn’t tell you any of that though. He’d express that physically in a way - sit closer to you, stand closer to you (giving off protective vibes), stare at you

The staring part might seem a little unnerving but it’s just his way of admiring you from afar considering he can’t admire you up close (yet)

The situationship would go on and on as he’d slowly make room for you

When he finally makes sure the special little warm place for you in his cold heart is completely ready, he’d let you in

The moment you’d officially click would be spontaneous, you probably wouldn’t expect it. You’d be alone, probably just enjoying the peace with a TV on when he’d casually wrap his arm around your shoulder

He’d make a small talk, probably end up flattering you with a cheeky comment or make you giggle with a dad joke

For the first time he’d let you touch him. He’d let you sneak your hand underneath his mask and slightly lift it, merely to reveal his mouth

He wouldn’t hesitate another moment because he’d be tired of hesitation. You’d be surprised how gentle he is, how soft his kisses are and how careful he is with his hands

He isn’t into PDA so the crew would have to figure it out on its own

As your significant other he’d be ready to lay his life down for you. He’s extremely overprotective and would get jealous

At times it wouldn’t seem as healthy but if you’re good at communicating there shouldn’t be a problem with dealing with any setbacks

He loves pampering you, treating you like a princess, giving you everything he’s never had

He's a man of few words so his love language is mostly physical touch. It’s hard for him to choose which part of your body is his favorite because he loves holding all of you like a plushy toy

But if he really had to choose it would probably be your face and torso, his favorite parts to kiss, as well as your collarbone (has a thing for necklaces)

His sex drive isn’t high and it would take a lot of time to get fully intimate with him

First he’d spontaneously test your boundaries, make sure what you’re comfortable with and what not

Your first intimate session he’d take nice and easy. He’d realize how good you make him feel in every aspect. It would turn out to be very passionate, slow and intense

Every next time would be better than the previous one. You’d explore each other and experiment together and actually start doing it more and more frequently

You’d hear him praise you and dirty talk here and there. For example “You can take it luv”, “Do it for me sweethear’”, “There’s a good gal”

And when he’d make you squirt or when he’d want you to cum again: “Do it again for me”, “You can do it”, “Just one more time luv, do it for me princess”

He’s okay with oral but definitely prefers the real deal. He also prefers doing it inside, in complete privacy where he can cherish you properly

His favorite positions are the classic missionary, cowgirl and reverse cowgirl and even then he’d tell you to look at him over your shoulder because he prefers looking at your beautiful face

He loves holding your hand while thrusting deep inside of you, going slow with a perfect amount of roughness, stretching your walls. There’s something about this edging pace that makes his ears rumble in pleasure

Isn’t that vocal, mostly just grunts and groans and heavily breathes

Is a dom but not an aggressive one. Never.

He’d use classic nicknames such as “love”, “darling” but also “sweetheart”, “sweets”, “doll”, “princess”

You’re probably the only one he enjoys hearing Simon from. He loves when you call him by his real name

If English isn’t your first language and if you have an accent, he would love it. He’d tell you how adorable it is if you’re insecure about it

Fantasizes about moving with you to Manchester and owning a dog. He isn’t a family man, he doesn’t want kids

Loves when you admire his tattoos and touch his face. He’d always guide your hands to his face. He loves when you kiss his scars (and loves kissing yours if you have any, as well as beauty marks)

Loves to hold your hands and admire your nails if you like them painted and/or long (loves when you give him gentle scratches with them, especially his arms and back), perhaps has a tiny size kink

Loves your scent and your perfumes it you wear any, hence he loves when you wear his clothes

Takes his mask off when sleeping but only when it’s pitch black. Here’s a fluff oneshot I wrote about it

Fun fact: blud is not a morning person when he’s not on duty. It’s hell to get him out of bed

He sleeps none to lightly and wakes up when you make the smallest shuffle, checking on you and always making sure you’re nicely tucked in

He can neglect himself really badly and I’m talking hygiene and clothes. Not taking care of himself is a bad habit of his. For example he wouldn’t shave his beard for a long time, shower, wash his clothes etc

You reminding him to do such things can be annoying but if you do it in a peaceful suggestive manner there won’t be any escalations. He’d admit and probably call himself a dirty pig before finally putting his dirty socks and underwear in the washing machine and finally showering

He drinks. Bourbon is his favorite and he can consume too much at times. He’d reassure you he can control himself but sometimes he can get a little tipsy. He isn’t an alcoholic but the amount he drinks at times can worry you

He smokes too, often stinks of nicotine

Loves when you brush your teeth together

Also loves to watch you do your morning and night routines

Has a thing when you cook for him. Loves everything you make in the kitchen but he’s always the one making tea, no exceptions

Also has a thing to tickle you with his spiky beard when he doesn’t shave

He's a cheeky bastard, his sarcasm always on point. Loves making dad jokes and has a dark humor

Knows a lot of tricks e.g. with cards and that penny behind your ear trick. When you’d ask him to show you how he does it, he’d claim it’s “real magic”

Loves playing poker with his crew. Him trying to explain the rules to you is hilarious though because you probably wouldn’t understand anything. He’s rough on teaching

He’d love keeping you on his lap while playing poker with the crew along with a glass of strong bourbon, claiming you’re “his little helper/assistant”

Another fun fact: blud does not own enough clothes. You would have to go shopping with him which he hates

He would never open up about what he’s been through. He doesn’t want to traumatize you or ruin the picture you have of him. Or at least that’s just his fear. Only fear, to disappoint you and lose you

Though he would tell you about some missions and battles if you’re really interested. He’d tell you about his scars, where, when and how he got them. Some he’d skip because they connect to a part of his life he doesn’t want to talk about

What a journey to win Simon’s trust ey? Well he still can’t be surprised if one day something pulls you apart. Nevertheless he truly hopes it doesn’t

He wouldn’t want this to end, ever. He found his happy place and that’s you

Dividers belong to @firefly-graphics 🖤

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley mw2 #ghost mwii #simon riley x reader #cod simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x you #simon riley smut

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luveline · 2 years

Note

hi! i loved you’re bodyguard james au sm! could i request something super fluffy with bodyguard james, maybe reader getting ready for bed and james doting on her <3

omg yes of course, thank you for your request! some mutual pining with bodyguard!james x fem!reader

"Do you think it's silly, sometimes, that you have to wait outside my door?" you ask James, hip popped against the doorframe, tired and lagging and wanting his attention.

He's thankfully deigned to turn to you, though his position is ramrod straight. "Not really."

"I understand when I'm out of bounds, but... you know, my door locks."

"You know as well as I do a lock won't stop some people."

"How about two locks?"

"Enough," he says. There's so much fondness there that you step forward. James gives you a stern look, which might be intimidating because of his general tall, lean shape if he were anyone else but himself. "Go get ready for bed."

"You can't boss me around," you say, and then turn into your room to get ready for bed anyhow. His laugh follows you.

You leave the door open and James doesn't move to close it. It's nice to have his company, to hear the lightest echo of his breathing. You live in such a quiet house, you'd almost think it was you and James alone.

But you're never alone.

"Jamie?" you ask, shrugging out of your soft cardigan.

He hums rather than answer.

"Do you get tired?" you ask, ducking down to look in the vanity's mirror.

You start to pull the jewellery from your hair one glimmering gem at a time, and then pull off the heavy, elegant chain of your necklace. Both easy enough. It's the bracelet you struggle with; the catch isn't manoeuvrable with only one hand.

"Sometimes. You know somebody swaps with me at one though? I don't stand here all night."

You approach him with a little more shyness than before and offer your wrist. "Can you help?"

His fingers slide over your skin obligingly.

"You work such long shifts. One to one. That's twelve whole hours. Don't you think that's excessive?"

"I'm head of your team. It's my job."

The bracelet unclips. James lowers it into your open palm, where it pools. A snake of tiny gems. You close your fingers around it.

"You don't think it's hurting you, all this working?"

"Pajamas."

You huff and head back into your room, dropping your bracelet into the mirrored tray you keep on your vanity. You'll put it away properly tomorrow in the safe jewellery box, but for tonight it'll live with your clips and chains.

"It doesn't hurt me," James says.

"Do you get all the sleep you need?"

"Eight solid hours."

You know he eats enough. He swaps out sometimes with other people to eat lunch, but usually he just eats it with you when you ask, and you always do. It doesn't exactly fit any professional boundaries.

James is your friend.

Maybe.

You grab some clean underwear and pyjamas and change right there in the middle of your room. James won't peek. If he did you wouldn't care. "You have enough time to yourself?" you ask.

"Interested in my private life?" he asks. You can hear his smile, his suggestive eyebrow raise.

"It's more hours than anyone should work, is all. Maybe you could change to eight."

"Ah, trying to get rid of me," he corrects himself.

You push your arms through the sleeves of a dainty nightgown and laugh. "Absolutely I am."

"Have to try harder than this."

You neaten the skirt and frown at your legs, wondering if they look a little dry, and decide some body lotion won't hurt. "Mandarin or lavender?" you call.

"You said the mandarin one made you itchy, last time."

"But it smells really good."

"That's the lotion eating at your skin."

You wrinkle your nose and bend at the waist to moisturise your legs. You wish you could brag and say it was an erotic, film worthy affair. It's mostly a scrabbling of your palms up and down. You sigh and work it up your thighs until you're soft to touch all over.

"If I weigh it up," he says suddenly, seriously, more serious than you're expecting, "it's less work to take longer shifts with you. I'd rather spend the hours watching you than orchestrating other people to watch you... I quite like looking after you."

He clears his throat. "Not that I look after you," he says.

You pad out into the hallway. James has turned his back to you. His arm tenses almost imperceptibly under your hand as you reach for his elbow.

"You definitely look after me." His skin is smooth. It's so hot under your touch that you can feel it moving up into the heels of your palms.

"It's my job," he says.

You'd thought about kissing his arm. Thought about it. His comment snaps you into reality. A goodnight kiss in any form at all would be inappropriate. He might like his job, but it's still a job.

"Where would you be, if you didn't have to work?" you ask.

"Come and stand in front of me," he says gently.

You do as he says. His eyes follow over your outfit. You let yourself believe his expression softens, though your logical head knows it's not the truth. James might be sweet on you, and he may even know how you feel about him, but that's where it all ends. He doesn't like you. He's paid to be here.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That my socks aren't doing their job. Is it cold in here?"

"What are you really thinking?"

He's very patient with you when it comes to stuff like this. It's confusing, because James has about as much patience as you have subtlety.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm okay."

"Well, you look lovely. What an incredibly short nightgown," he praises amorously.

You flush with heat but decide you'll feed into his dramatics rather than tell him what's really wrong with you, stepping back to do a clumsy spin. "Picked it with you in mind, handsome."

"Yeah? Anything else?"

You gasp. "You overstep your station, good sir."

"I can't be blamed. You always look your softest before bed."

Your breath catches. You stop your flaunting and flouncing abruptly to look into his warm face. He looks to you, letting his arms fall from their crossed position to either side of his defined chest. Your eyes flit between his beauty mark. One to the left of his hawk-shaped nose, one below his lashes, three down his left cheek.

It's weird to want someone and have them this close, and know you will probably never, ever have them.

"If I didn't have to work," James says, face as impassive as his stance, a closed book. "I'll show you."

He holds out his hand. You don't take it. He thrusts it forward again.

When you finally give James your own, he spends a moment rubbing the back of it with his thumb like he's never felt it before.

He leads you into your room. He's been in here before, of course, but still, it's a lot to be led. You don't have a clue what he's doing, you think Oh, he's taking me to bed. But he skirts around it and brings you to the first window, pulling the curtains to one side.

He points. "See there?"

You follow his finger. "The gates?"

"The gates."

"James, I don't understand."

"That's where I'd be, if I didn't have to work. They probably wouldn't let me in, but I'd wait right there by the gates for you."

"That's not funny," you murmur.

"I'm not joking."

You grow very still. James drops his hand into the curve of your neck and follows it over the slope of your shoulder. It's affectionate, sweet, and very, very soothing.

His lips touch the side of your head, though it might be accidental. You're tired enough to imagine he's kissed you. "Brush your teeth, shortcake. And then bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, don't remind me," you mumble.

"Okay, I won't."

He squeezes your shoulder one last time, clears his throat, and returns to his post. You brush your teeth and try not to sneak glances at the back of his head through the gap of the ensuite door.

#james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #marauders era #marauders #bodyguard!james potter #bodyguard!au

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minghaoyoudoin · 11 months

Text

to love easily

pairing: non-idol!minghao x fem!reader

genre: fake dating / angst / smut / non-idol au

words: 13.5k

rating: strictly 18+, stay safe out there 🫶

warnings: heavy mention of cheating and resulting trauma, fem reader, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name (darling), very explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), penetration (vaginal), some angst but more fluff, some marking, I'm sure there's more but you'll have to read to find out hehe

a/n: drum roll please.......... ta da! at long last, I've written for the namesake of this blog, the actual love of my life xu minghao! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one, it was such a joy to write and I'm excited to be able to share it with you! please like or reblog if you like it and thank you for reading!

synopsis: fake dating the beautiful stranger you met in the men’s room: what could go wrong?

~ DAY ONE ~

When you burst through the men’s bathroom door like a bat out of hell, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised to find a boy on the other side.

Luckily, he wasn’t doing anything worthy of sprinting back out for. The boy stood at the row of old, slightly rusted sinks, the water running but not actually washing his hands. He had frozen the second the door opened, actually, which you figured was a pretty appropriate reaction.

And he was staring at you. Black hair hung into wide eyes, glasses you suspected he didn’t really need perched on the bridge of his nose.

Your chest heaved as you tried and failed to catch your breath. For all your many talents, running was not one of them. You offered a tired wave. “Sorry,” you panted, “I’ll just be a moment, promise.”

“What… are you doing.”

Phrased like a question, but not quite. You squinted at the boy as the automatic sink finally shut off, plunging the bathroom into silence. He straightened to his full height and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, appraising you warily. The boy knew how to dress, you’d give him that.

“Is there anyone else in here?” You demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The boy made a show of looking around, allowing his eyes to slide back to you after concluding the two of you were obviously alone. He shrugged. Not much for words, this one.

You finally managed to catch your breath enough to speak in coherent sentences. “Look, my ex-boyfriend is out there, okay?”

“Is that really a dire enough situation to warrant hiding in the men’s room?”

You scoffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his new girlfriend is with him. Who also happens to be my used-to-be-best-friend, okay? I’m not hiding, I’m saving everyone a headache.”

The boy grimaced. “Sounds messy. Well, good luck with that—”

“Do you have a name?” You interrupted. The boy levelled an impatient look at you over his fake glasses. When he said nothing you blurted your own name, at which his lips pressed into a hard line.

After what could have been hours of tense silence, the boy sighed. “Minghao. My friends call me Hao.”

“Nice to meet you, Hao.”

“You can call me Minghao.”

Despite his severe tone and the fact he definitely wasn’t joking, you laughed. You stuck out a hand for him to shake, more than pleased when he raised his own to meet yours halfway. He wore several delicate silver rings on his fingers, his skin slightly damp against yours from the sink. You took some solace in the knowledge he’d been able to finish washing his hands before you barged into the bathroom.

You froze, your hand still clasped in Minghao’s, at the sound of two horribly familiar voices on the other side of the door. The deeper of which was getting suspiciously close.

“Shit.” You moved before you could think better of it. You inadvertently dragged Minghao with you into the closest stall, managing to slam it shut and lock it mere seconds before the bathroom door opened.

“I’ll wait out here, okay?” Chaeyoung’s voice floated in from the hallway, as high and pretty-sounding as ever. Footsteps echoed as your ex-boyfriend crossed the tile floor to the urinals on the opposite wall.

You gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you not to listen to the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s piss. Minghao, looking hopelessly confused, opened his mouth to say something and glared down at you when you immediately covered his lips with your hand.

Don’t even think about it, you shouted with your eyes.

Minghao cocked an eyebrow, something akin to mischief shining in his eyes. Oh, I’m definitely thinking about it now.

To your despair, Minghao cleared his throat. Even through the barrier of your hand the sound echoed, and you scowled at the floor as your ex finished his business and washed his hands. It was good that he did, you thought. You hadn’t been convinced he was a dedicated hand-washer before.

You didn’t release the painful breath in your lungs until the bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Minghao immediately shook off your hand over his mouth and massaged his jaw, gazing down at you with mild dislike.

“I implied you were dramatic before, but I was wrong. That was dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the stall, marching out into open floorspace. Minghao followed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You ran your hands over your face, now attempting to catch your breath for an entirely different reason than before. That was a close call, too close, and you were certain you’d never be able to live it down if you were caught in the boy’s bathroom with a total stranger.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line.” You glanced up at Minghao for all of one second before your embarrassment got the better of you and you looked down again. “I don’t even know why I dragged you in there with me, you would’ve been fine out here.”

He looked you up and down, allowing the silence to drag on for long enough that your skin prickled with unease. You took the opportunity to appraise him, as well. You’d be damned if you let some random college guy in a bathroom make you feel small.

Minghao’s hair, you realized now, was cut into a tasteful mullet. He wore some variation of streetwear, though you recognized the logos of a luxury brand or two as you examined him. Was he rich or just really into fashion? Maybe both, though you suspected it was more of the latter.

“Your boyfriend is Joshua Hong?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected sourly. “But yeah. We dated for two years before I caught those two in bed together.”

Minghao didn’t react, which you weren’t sure how to feel about. He didn’t seem to pity you, at least. You were so sick of people pitying you. “I have a proposition for you,” he said neutrally.

“No, I won’t have sex with you.” You answered immediately.

Minghao smiled humorlessly. “If we have sex, darling, I won’t be the one asking for it.” He ignored your scowl and continued calmly, “I think I have an idea that can fix your problem.”

You tried to let it go, you really did, but curiosity swiftly got the better of you. With an aggrieved sigh, you motioned impatiently for him to go on.

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me just fine. I don’t mean actually, of course, but no one else needs to know that. There’s nothing to make the ex jealous like dating someone new.” He spoke like it was the most normal thing in the word. Like the prospect of fake-dating someone was completely logical.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, completely unable to form words. “We go to a big university but it’s not that big,” you choked out. “Some people are bound to remember you and I have never spoken before today.”

“So? People form new, spontaneous relationships every day.”

That was true enough. You eyed him warily, trying to find any hints of ulterior motives in his cool exterior. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t waver an inch. He stared back at you with an expectant smile, obviously anticipating you to agree, and it was around this time that you realized he was intimidatingly handsome.

“Why? What’s in this for you?” You asked.

He waved a dismissive hand between you. “It doesn’t matter. Just know this is a mutually-beneficial agreement. Think about it, you know I’m right.”

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to kiss him for his great idea or punch him because he’d thought of it before you.

“For how long?” You asked. With every passing second you came closer to folding.

Minghao considered for a moment, staring at a point somewhere over your head. “Six weeks. That’s a month-and-a-half—if Joshua isn’t begging to have you back by then it means he probably won’t.”

Ouch. He was right, you figured. You did want Joshua to beg for you back, but you had absolutely zero intention of actually saying yes to him if he did. His and Chaeyoung’s actions had cut far too deep to heal back to the way it was before. There was a jagged, metaphorical scar that would probably give you grief until the day you died.

Without another word or attempt to convince yourself otherwise, you stuck your hand out in front of you again. Minghao’s eyes fell to it. They widened slightly, your only indication that at least some part of him had doubted that you would say yes.

“You’ve got a deal, Minghao. The arrangement will last six weeks—no more, no less.”

Minghao smiled down at you, the sight only confirming your suspicion that he was very handsome. His long, delicate fingers grasped yours, gentler this time than when you’d shook his hand to introduce yourself.

“Six weeks,” he agreed. “No less.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

~ DAY EIGHT ~

“Why are you making me go to a football game, again?”

“Because I’m president of the photography club and I have to be there. If we’re dating that means you do, too.”

“But Joshua’s on the football team,” you lamented.

“Even better. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a candid shot of him eating his heart out.”

Despite yourself, you grinned. You figured out more every day that Minghao was genuinely funny when he wanted to be.

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the bathroom. As you’d mentioned in passing, the university you went to was big, but Minghao somehow managed to find you wherever you were.

The day after the restroom debacle, you’d been eating lunch by yourself in a dining hall close to your apartment. It was a struggle not to mope, most days, especially when this dining hall was one you used to frequent with Joshua. Your ex-boyfriend himself had strode into the building right as you took a massive bite of your soggy sandwich, Chaeyoung perched on his arm. It was moments like those that really made you consider arson, but your urge to light things on fire dissipated the moment Minghao plopped into the booth at your side.

He'd offered you a lazy grin and slung his arm over your shoulders before you could protest. Don’t freak out, his eyes told you. The arrangement, remember?

It had taken every ounce of strength in your body to heed his silent warning. Rather than let your surprise show, you’d offered him a wide smile and leaned further into his side. Foolishly you’d planted a sloppy kiss on the edge of his jaw—that was something couples did in public, right?—and immediately flushed with embarrassment.

It worked, though. The one time you dared to look, Joshua kept glancing over at you, mingled confusion and worry lighting his face.

It continued like that for the next week. Minghao made you give him your phone number and text him your class schedule, which he exchanged for his. He showed up to your classes anytime he could, waiting outside in the hall so he could walk you to your next one. He began eating lunch with you in the same dining hall as the first time and put extra effort into his boyfriend façade when Joshua was around.

Outside of that, though, you tended not to speak to one another. He didn’t text, so you didn’t bother to either. He hadn’t yet asked you on a date off-campus, something which simultaneously relieved and disappointed you. You knew you’d have to, eventually, and going to the football game with him seemed like a good way to dip your toe in the water.

Minghao waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you back to the present. “Well? Are you coming with me or not? You can’t deny this is a perfect opportunity for operation jealousy.”

You sighed, but it was mainly for dramatic effect. You both knew you would say yes, especially when things like this were the whole point of your fake relationship, anyway. “Yeah, I’ll come with. Don’t expect me to start making out with you every time they score a touchdown, though.”

The smile Minghao gave you was downright diabolical. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

For all your protesting, the football game was actually kind of fun. Really fun. On a good day you didn’t know the first thing about football, so you tended to watch games based on vibes alone. Today, your university was leading 4-0 and Joshua was playing poorly, hopelessly distracted by the way you hung off Minghao’s arm on the edge of the field. The vibes were immaculate.

Minghao shifted so he stood behind you, looping his camera strap over your head so you could hold the camera while keeping your back pressed to his front. Your mind hyper-focused on the way his chest brushed your shoulders on every inhale. He was blissfully warm, especially when contrasted with the brisk November air around you.

“I already adjusted the settings for you. All you have to do is point and shoot.”

You lifted the camera so you could squint through the viewfinder. “Point and shoot. Got it.”

Minghao made it look way easier than it really was. He’d taken you to the photo lab a few days ago so you could talk through the details of your arrangement, speaking lowly under red light while his pictures developed. Every photo you took turned out just blurry enough that it was unusable, save for one or two shots of the crowd.

He didn’t seem to mind. At some points he rested his chin on top of your head while the two of you flipped through pictures you’d taken. At others his hands drifted up your forearms to your wrists, his fingertips raising goosebumps across your skin. He was good, you had to give him that. If you weren’t careful, you would start to believe his act.

The crowd went wild at something you didn’t see. You raised the camera like it was a gun, searching wildly for what had caused the ruckus. “What happened? What did I miss?”

Minghao chuckled in your ear. “Joshua just got the ball thirty yards closer to the endzone in one play. It’s impressive.”

You scowled, unconvinced. “Yeah, well I’d like to see him not cheat on one of his girlfriends. That I’d be impressed with.”

Minghao laughed again. You pointedly ignored the swell of warmth in your chest at the sound. He raised the camera until the strap lifted over your head, freeing you once again. You stepped away from him, more for your sanity than anything else, and rolled your tense shoulders.

“How many innings are left?” You asked. He just stared at you, his eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his hair. “Close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies.”

Without a word, Minghao raised the camera and snapped a picture of you. You narrowed your eyes, confused. He tugged on the end of one of your braids. “There aren’t innings in football, darling. You’re thinking of baseball.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. “Damn. I promise I’m not stupid, I’m just not much of a sports girl. Not these types of sports, anyway.”

Minghao nodded knowingly. “At least you’re pretty.” Did he really mean it or was he just teasing you? Usually that phrase was meant to be mean-spirited, but you could never really tell with him. “What sports are you referring to?”

“Hockey, mainly. But competitive swimming was always my favorite sport in the summer Olympics, so.”

He gave you a strange look like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “Weirdly enough, that makes sense for you.”

“Yeah, well.” You gestured to the field in front of you, scanning the players for the dreaded #05. You found Joshua just in time to watch him blow a kiss to Chaeyoung on the other side of the field, her cheerleading outfit glittering under the stadium lights. You exhaled heavily through your nose. They were perfect together. Straight out of some college romcom—you never stood a chance.

Minghao noticed what had drawn your attention. He took another photo of you staring across the field and approached to stand at your side again. “Her hair looks hideous.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He tugged on one of your braids again. “No. It doesn’t,” he conceded. “I’m trying to help you feel better.”

You appreciated it, you really did. Appreciated him. This past week had been the best you’d had since Joshua cheated on you, something you didn’t realize until this moment. For several seconds, you just stared at him. Minghao stared back, his expression unreadable. He’d lost the fake glasses—blue light glasses, he’d corrected—for the game tonight, his eyes a warm brown without them.

Before you could respond, the crowd erupted into screams. You whipped around to face the field, your eyes straining to find what was happening in the cacophony of male bodies.

There. Joshua had the ball. And he was running—sprinting for the endzone twenty yards away. Despite yourself, despite your anger and hurt with him, your heart squeezed painfully. Your blood sang, urging him to run faster. You might have yelled it, doing some sort of awkward side-trot along the field with him. Minghao did the same, obviously as invested in the score as you were. He kept his camera raised as he did, continuously snapping pictures of the action.

Several members of the other team closed in on him, but Joshua only pushed himself faster. He narrowly dodged the two men that attempted to tackle him and, in a display of athleticism that stunned you, dove across the line into the endzone.

The noise that followed was deafening. You jumped and screamed along with the crowd, just for a moment forgetting about everything weighing on your mind. Minghao’s long arms encircled your waist and he lifted you off the ground so he could spin in a wide circle with you. You laughed so hard your cheeks hurt, joy bubbling in your chest.

The crowd was still shouting when Minghao finally set you back on your feet. You kept your arms around his shoulders. He made no move to release your waist, either, grinning down at you the same way you beamed up at him.

Later, you would blame it on the heat of the moment. The stadium’s screams, the fact Joshua had just scored what would likely be the winning touchdown, the blinding lights—yes, it had to be that. Regardless, you looked into the stars in Minghao’s eyes and pressed your lips to his without thinking.

The kiss was barely more than a second. You shocked yourself so thoroughly that you pulled away immediately, you and Minghao staring at one another with equal expressions of surprise. But without warning, he crushed his lips to yours again. They were softer than you’d imagined as they slid against yours, Minghao exploring your mouth with languid curiosity.

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest. You allowed your hands to timidly drift from his shoulders to the back of his neck, then gently tangle in the roots of his hair. Despite the riot of noise all around you, Joshua being carried on the shoulders of his teammates in celebration, all you could focus on was the feeling of kissing Minghao.

He pulled away after what could have been seconds or hours, his breathing erratic. He stared down at you for a moment and took a step back, releasing you once more. You swayed on your feet a bit after his sudden retreat out of your personal space.

“I just had to check,” he said through a heavy exhale.

“Check what?”

Minghao shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.”

You turned your attention back to the game and ignored the shaking in your hands. What the hell just happened?

~ DAY TWENTY-TWO ~

“I think we need to have rules,” you said around a bite of your sandwich.

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “Rules? Why?” He continued poking at his pasta, cutting individual noodles into perfect, tiny squares.

You cleared your throat, aware of the self-conscious heat creeping up your neck. “At the game you, uh, kissed me. Well, I kissed you, but then you kissed me—whatever.” Minghao looked down at his food instead of you, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I know it was just the excitement of the game, I don’t want you to think I expect anything out of you now.”

“I think it’s a little late to establish rules,” he said, finally taking a bite of his strangely diced pasta. “We’re already halfway through the arrangement.”

Your mouth fell open. “We are?” You did the mental math, the surprise shocking you into silence for several seconds. It felt like a week had passed, not a little over three. You had spent almost every day with Minghao, even if it was just for a few minutes between classes on campus. Other days you did things like this, going out for dinner and sometimes studying afterwards, sometimes not. You tried not to dwell on the fact you and Minghao had begun hanging out even when you knew Joshua wouldn’t be around.

Minghao smiled knowingly at you. There was a familiar look in his eyes nowadays, one that was somewhere between affection and thinking you’re a dumbass. “Cat got your tongue?”

You stuck said tongue out at him. “Well, my point still stands. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or anything just because we kissed once.”

“I don’t think that.”

Great, super helpful. “Hao. Help me out here.”

His smile dropped, his expression turning contemplative. “Fine. How about… no more kissing? At least, not unless you ask.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you frowned.

“That won’t happen. I think we should just tack no sex on there too, while we’re at it.” At your words, Minghao’s face changed to mirror your frown.

“Fine. No sex.” He considered for another moment. “Is the point of this arrangement for you to get back together with Josh?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ sound for emphasis. In a way, the conviction with which you said it surprised you. Until now, you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the end-goal of your fake relationship. If not to win Joshua back, what was the point? “He chose Chaeyoung, end of story. I think I’m more interested in giving him hell by being happier without him.” You smiled mischievously and Minghao snorted.

“As you should. Fine, then next rule: either of us can end the relationship at any time. If one of us decides we’re done then that’s it, no questions asked.”

For reasons you didn’t understand, your heart swooped into your stomach. You forced a swallow. “Okay.” After a beat of hesitation you plastered a teasing smile onto your face. “You’re not trying to fake-break up with me, are you?”

Thankfully, Minghao laughed. “No, darling.” He smiled when you scowled. “I enjoy the look on your face when I call you ‘darling’ far too much for that.”

“Fine, fine.” You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Is that all?” Minghao asked.

“One more.” You held up a finger while you finished the sandwich in your mouth and tried not to choke. Anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind. You weren’t quite sure how he would react to your last rule. “No falling in love. It would just complicate things unnecessarily. Even though you’ve told me that there’s no one else, I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You have that look. I don’t know, I can just tell. You’re in love with someone but you won’t tell me who she is.”

Minghao stared at you, completely silent. His expression had gone back to the unreadable mask he’d frequently worn at the beginning of this whole thing. You hated it.

“Well?” You pushed.

Like someone had pressed play on a remote, Minghao resumed cutting and eating his pasta. “There’s no one else, but okay. I agree.”

You leaned forward. “Are you sure about that?”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes, his expression resolute. “What do you want me to say? There isn’t. I’ve gotten used to you these past few weeks. I’m having fun and I don’t care to have it with anyone else at the moment.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, evaluating him through narrowed eyes. He looked casual enough—he didn’t have to force the words out and there were no physical indications that he was lying. Minghao, apparently sensing your energy, set down his fork and mimicked your stance.

“Do you want me to break it off with you?” He asked neutrally.

“What? Of course not.”

“It seems like you do.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You didn’t, not at all. In fact, you were far enough into this… thing with him that you worried how you’d react after this arrangement was over. Would you replace being heartbroken over Joshua with being heartbroken over Hao?

When you said nothing, Minghao continued, “The same goes for you, you know. If someone you like tries to pursue you I’ll step aside. Even if it’s Joshua.” His face turned abruptly nervous and he swallowed. “However, I want to talk to you about something—”

“Did you say my name?”

Every ounce of curiosity at what he’d been about to say turned to ash at the voice that interrupted him.

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t need the confirmation that it was Joshua standing behind you, anyway. Minghao’s eyes raised to your ex-boyfriend’s face, his expression holding poorly-concealed dislike. He gave him a saccharine smile that you didn’t believe for a second.

“Joshua. What brings you here?”

He was standing far too close to your chair. Even though you still wouldn’t turn to look at him you could feel his presence behind you like a looming shadow.

“I’m meeting Chaeyoung for dinner. It’s our six-month anniversary today.”

Six months. You thought you might vomit. You knew Joshua had cheated on you, obviously, but according to this timeline he had gotten with Chaeyoung over four months before you caught them.

Minghao’s eyes flicked to you, fast enough that you could’ve imagined the worry in them. “Is that so?”

“You two are dating, then?” Joshua completely ignored Minghao’s pointed question. You knew he was addressing you without having to see his face.

You cleared your throat as a way to buy yourself time to breathe. “Yeah, we are. A little over a month now.” You were too afraid to exaggerate yours and Minghao’s relationship timeline any more than that. Joshua was known to poke holes in anything until it broke, especially when it was you.

At last, you turned to look at him. Joshua was smiling down at you, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. Months of heartbreak surged to the surface and you pressed your lips into a hard line to keep your face from betraying your emotions.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other, Hao.”

Hao? Since when did Joshua know Minghao? Let alone well enough to call him Hao. You threw a carefully blank glance in Minghao’s direction, one he was smart enough to look nervous at.

“We met at school.”

Joshua stared at him like he expected him to continue, then looked slightly uncomfortable when he remained silent. You tried to squash your pleasure at this. It seemed Joshua didn’t know Minghao well enough to be used to the fact he was a man of few words.

“Did you need something, Josh?” You asked, your voice strained. You lied as convincingly as you could, “Neither of us said your name.”

He looked back down at you. “Oh. No, then. Just stopping by to say hi, I guess. I wish you two the best of luck with… this.”

Joshua hesitated before walking away, following a host to a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

Your eyes bore holes in the plate in front of you. You wrung your hands beneath the table, attempting to slow your racing heart. A cacophony of emotions stampeded through your mind, moving too quickly to focus on any of them individually.

This plan was stupid. You were three weeks into your fake relationship with Minghao and what did you have to show for it? Anxiety that Joshua somehow knew you were lying? Even though you’d begun to feel better in your new friend’s presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he repeated your name to get your attention.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t speak until you mastered the stinging in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t push me, Hao.” You raised your eyes to his face, aware of the redness in them without having to see yourself. Minghao’s face was hard with concern and he held eye contact until you broke and looked away. “You’re on a first-name basis with him?”

He was silent for a long moment, considering his words. “Yes. We used to be close.”

You released a controlled exhale, continuing to hide your shaking hands under the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have helped.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Yes, you did. Hey—” Minghao reached across the table so he could lift your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to look at him “—I wasn’t trying to hurt you by not telling you. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer. You leaned back in your seat so that his hand was no longer touching your face. Seemingly disappointed, he withdrew it and folded his hands together on the table in front of him.

“When we met, you said this arrangement would be mutually beneficial.” Your throat was thick enough that you had trouble asking the question nagging at you. “Is it because of Joshua?”

Minghao’s answer was immediate. “No. I want nothing from him.”

You wanted to slap yourself at the involuntary relief that surged through you. You took several calming breaths, all too aware that Chaeyoung had just arrived for her date with Joshua. As much as you didn’t want to look, you watched through your periphery as they embraced and took their seats.

“I need to go home.”

Minghao seemed like he wanted to protest. He opened and closed his mouth but produced no sound. At last, he nodded tightly. This time, you weren’t sure if it was relief or extreme disappointment that bloomed in your chest.

When you stood, you held your head high. You threw some cash on the table for your meal, which Minghao deeply frowned at. Wordlessly, you squared your shoulders and walked away, aware of Minghao’s eyes following you until you disappeared onto the street outside.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your car that you finally allowed yourself to cry.

~ DAY THIRTY ~

Minghao decided, with very little planning, to take you on an I’m-sorry-I-hurt-your-feelings-and-you-cried-over-Joshua date. Or something like that. He settled on taking you to a hockey game.

He knew little to nothing about hockey, but you didn’t mind. The two of you had made up about the confrontation with Joshua last week. Or rather, you had finally decided to stop being angry with him. You had wasted a precious four days locked in your apartment, ignoring his texts and calls while you tried to sort out your feelings. So what if he and Joshua had been friends before? You had no more ownership over him than he did of you.

Strangely, your time apart hadn’t helped. If anything, it only made your yearning for him worse. You kept having the urge to talk to your best friend about him—to scream and cry until it dissolved into healing giggles and easy conversation. Only, Minghao was your best friend nowadays. After losing both Joshua and Chaeyoung in one fell swoop, the man beside you now was basically your only friend. Your person.

So, you allowed him to take you to the hockey game. You shared stale popcorn and egregiously large soft drinks, appropriately cheering and booing where necessary. You explained the rules of hockey as best you knew how, though the old woman eavesdropping behind you corrected you on multiple occasions. You had fun. A stupid, concerning amount of fun.

Halfway through you glanced over at him and realized that you loved him. It was sudden enough to steal the breath from your lungs. You didn’t allow yourself to commit to the idea of being in love with him, but your denial could only go so far. You loved him all the same.

He caught you staring and gifted you a brilliant smile. Minghao had somehow managed to become your best friend and sort-of-lover in the span of a month, and you suddenly couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You had no idea if he felt the same, but you decided then that you didn’t want to find out. Even if he did, Joshua had ruined you for anyone else. You weren’t in love with him anymore, not by any means, but you suddenly couldn’t trust anyone who dared try to be a romantic partner. Even Minghao.

On your way out of the game, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder. It was around this time, while Minghao gazed down at you with genuine affection in his eyes, that you realized what deep shit you were in.

~ DAY THIRTY-FOUR ~

“If I see you take one more picture of me I’m going to throw your camera in the river.”

Minghao didn’t laugh at your threat. Instead, you heard another conspicuous click as he took the hundredth photo of your side-profile. You didn’t look at him, still shielding the sun from your eyes and reclining lazily on the sloped grass. It was freezing outside, to say the least, but it was the first day in a week the sun had made an appearance.

The two of you laid out on a grassy hill along the river, bundled in three layers each and soaking up what little December sun you could. Minghao, in his usual fashion, had brought his camera and spent the past hour taking pictures of you.

“If you do that who’s going to know you died of hypothermia out here?”

You scowled in his direction without opening your eyes. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ll shout it from the rooftops.”

Minghao sighed. You half-listened to the sounds of him laying back on the grass beside you, your bodies barely touching from shoulder to knee. Goosebumps erupted on your skin everywhere you touched, even through your combined layers of clothing. You mentally reprimanded yourself for the involuntary reaction.

There was one week left in the arrangement. One single week before your fake break-up. You hadn’t brought up your relationship’s impending doom. Neither had he. As if he sensed the direction your thoughts had taken, Minghao’s long fingers sought yours on the grass. He tangled your hands but made no move to touch you further. You couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or aggravated.

“What are we doing?” Minghao’s quiet words surprised you. Not only because he’d broken the careful silence he so revered, but because it was the question you’d been wishing he’d ask for weeks. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to.

“We’re cloud watching.”

“Darling.” You flinched at that one word, so softly spoken. A plea, a warning, an affectionate reprimand—you would never understand how Minghao was able to convey so much with so little.

“I hate that you call me that.” Minghao’s head turned to face you, a look you didn’t return. If you looked at him now, your resolve would surely crack. You forced yourself to stay strong—you only had one week left. One week, then you could get out of this with your heart unscathed.

“Sometimes I think I don’t like you very much.”

The hurt was immediate. You finally turned your head to look at him, every thought rushing from your brain at the way his eyes burned into you. Your hurt rolled off you in subtle waves, despite your fierce attempt to hide it.

“Why?” You whispered.

“Because you make me wonder.”

That gave you pause. In all honesty, you had no idea what he meant. You voiced your confusion aloud, albeit softly, like you were trying very hard not to scare him away. Minghao still hadn’t released your hand, his skin warm and dry against yours. Despite the brisk winter air, the few small places your bodies touched warmed you enough not to notice.

“You make me wonder.” He repeated himself and shrugged, like it was the simplest explanation in the world. “I’ve never been one to believe in things like fate or destiny or whatever else the romantics tell us to dream for. I was very peaceful before all this, you know. I had my camera and a regular schedule and the few friends who stuck around after we graduated high school. Every day was simple, but I’ve always preferred it that way. Then you crashed into the men’s bathroom like a bat out of hell and… now I wonder.”

The breath had long since been stolen from your chest. “What do you wonder about?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face, its beauty there and gone in an instant. “I wonder about fate and destiny and the things romantics tell me to dream for. I always thought it was disappointing to watch the people around me fall in love. A waste of potential, or something like that. People become so wrapped up in those they love that it leaves little time for everything else.

“Yet here we are. The majority of the pictures on my camera are of you. When Joshua made you cry at dinner I thought I was going to tear his throat out with my teeth, and I am not a violent person. I could see so clearly, for the first time, what type of person he made you when you were together. Small and helpless and sad—nothing like the fierce girl that came into my life like a fucking hurricane and stole my peace right out from under me.”

Your chest was painfully tight now. “Hao, stop.”

He didn’t. “I value sleep more than most things in my life and I haven’t been able to get more than four hours a night since we kissed at the football game. When I got frustrated looking at all the photos of you on my camera I switched to painting, only to find I had painted your eyes without even meaning to.” Minghao sat up jerkily without releasing your hand. His eyes earnestly searched yours with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. You forced yourself to remain still, returning his stare without flinching. “You are… incandescent. Breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t breathe when I’m with you and I’m half-mad when we’re apart. Don’t you see? I can’t win.”

“Hao…” Your warning trailed off, his rapid breaths the only thing to fill the silence. Even the chatter of passerby and the drone of the city fell away, leaving you in a cocoon of quiet.

His hand released yours so that he could hold your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles across your cheeks. Fire bloomed beneath your skin, flaring everywhere he made contact. Your hands raised to cover his, neither of you moving as you stared deeply into one another’s eyes. You were certain you looked crazy to anyone walking by.

For one tiny, insignificant moment, you allowed yourself to hope. It unfurled in your chest and beat alongside your heart. The possibility that this beautiful man could truly want you the way you wanted him rendered you speechless.

Minghao’s thumb traced your bottom lip and he groaned softly at the heated breath you released. “I have fallen so deeply, irreversibly in love with you that I don’t think my heart will ever truly belong to me again.” His words shocked you to your very core.

He leaned forward, watching your expression through hooded eyes. His warm breath mingled with yours and your entire body locked at his proximity. He was going to kiss you. Again. Only this time there was no crowd, no Joshua watching from the football field, no adrenaline to spur you on. If you kissed him now, there was nothing to blame it on.

Minghao’s lips brushed yours. You’d forgotten how soft they were—the way his breath made goosebumps skitter like beetles across your spine. His fingers were so long that they disappeared in your hairline, tangling in your roots like he never meant to let you go. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss and you felt his tongue ghost across your bottom lip.

You jerked away. You scrambled to your feet faster than he could react, your chest heaving. Minghao stared up at you, dazed, his breathing irregular for an entirely different reason than yours.

“What are you doing?” There was venom in your voice. More than you had intended, judging by the way he flinched back. When he said nothing, you bit out, “Are you trying to hurt me?”

Minghao’s eyes widened. “What? No—”

“Just stop, Hao.” The angry beast in your chest settled, retreating into its slumber as fast as it had awoken. Your shoulders sagged and you looked at your feet. You were abruptly exhausted, sadness nipping at your cheeks as surely as the winter around you. “You don’t mean it. I know you think you do—” you rushed when he opened his mouth to interrupt you “—but you don’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he huffed indignantly.

“This whole arrangement is based on a lie. We’ve been pretending to be in love for five weeks, it’s bound to have affected one of us after a while.”

“One of us?” Minghao surged to his feet, suddenly crowding your space. His hands took hold of your face again and he earnestly searched your eyes. You kept your expression blank, worried that if you showed any sort of emotion then you’d crack. “One of us? Tell me you don’t feel it too. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you aren’t in love with me.”

And there it was. The point of no return. You knew you’d have to lie, but would he believe you? It was the only way to spare him—spare either of you—from any further heartbreak because of your baggage. You couldn’t stand to see him hurt, to be the one that hurt him, but you had no other choice.

So, you once again placed your hands over his on your cheeks and took a deep breath. “I’m not in love with you, Hao. I never have been.”

For several moments, it appeared as if he hadn’t heard you. Minghao froze until, all at once, your words crashed into him and he stumbled back as if he’d been burned.

“You’re lying,” he breathed.

You squared your shoulders, still keeping your mask in that unkind, emotionless mask. “I’m not. I’m so sorry I led you on, I swear I never meant to. But we had rules, Hao. We made rules to prevent anything like this happening and you went and broke them anyway.”

You were being cruel, you knew you were. It was the only way. That’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, as the affection in Minghao’s eyes turned to hurt, then to ice.

“Why are you saying this? Did something happen with Joshua?”

You attempted to laugh but it sounded strangled to your own ears. “No, nothing happened with Joshua. I want nothing to do with him. If we were to do this, it would only hurt worse down the line. I just… I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

Minghao backed up a step, then another, each of his footfalls a resounding crack in your heart. “Forget I did. You know what? Forget all of this.” He turned to walk away but stopped immediately and looked at you over his shoulder. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what happened, but if you’d rather be alone then fine.”

“It’s better that way.”

Minghao’s eyes shuttered. He turned and began striding up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t turn to look at you again, and never once did you look away.

~ DAY FORTY ~

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You jumped hard enough that you dropped your noodles in midair. They plunked back into your bowl and nearly splashed Joshua’s expensive leather jacket as he slid into the booth next to you. Your eyes raised slowly to look at him, taking in the look of vague distaste he gave you. “And you look like shit.”

You smiled sourly. “Gee, thanks.” It wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. In the past six days, you had barely eaten or slept, and you’d taken your first post-breakup shower only yesterday. Breakup, if you could even call it that. It sure felt like one.

“I heard you broke up with Minghao.”

You cringed. At this point, who hadn’t heard? It seemed like everywhere you turned, someone was whispering or staring at you. “That’s none of your business.” You tried to nonchalantly take another bite of your ramen but it might as well have tasted like tar.

“Fair enough, but who else is going to talk to you about it?”

Unfortunately true. “Why do you care, Josh?”

His eyes softened, just barely. “Because I still care about you.” You threw him a skeptical glare. “And because you’re infecting the entire campus with your heartbreak. It’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

“Everyone meaning you?” The timid smile on your face faded. You stabbed at your food, your appetite long gone. Before you could think better of it, you blurted, “It wasn’t real.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “What wasn’t real?”

“Any of it. Minghao and I never dated. It was… stupid, now that I think about it, but this all started because I barged into the boy’s bathroom trying to avoid you and Chaeyoung.”

Your chest felt inexplicably lighter after your confession. You thought that you’d be humiliated if Joshua ever found out, but you realized now you didn’t care. You’d gotten a best friend out of it, even if you’d gone and fucked it up five weeks in.

Joshua stared at you beneath lowered brows, his arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes flicked nervously between his face and the dining hall around him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t feel like embarrassing me today?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoffed. “What?”

“I don’t believe you.” Joshua shrugged. He leaned forward and stole your chopsticks out of your hand, then proceeded to brazenly take a bite of your ramen.

You stared at him, speechless for several seconds too long. “I… don’t know what to say to that. Am I supposed to convince you that I rashly entered a fake relationship to both make you jealous and angry?”

“Maybe it started out that way, but you’re definitely in love with him now. You weren’t this heartbroken after we broke up, I can tell you that much.” Joshua hit his chest with a fist and returned your utensils, a grimace on his face. “This is so spicy, what’s wrong with you?”

You didn’t reply. You just looked at him, your mind racing. You muttered at last, “It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with him. Hell, it doesn’t even matter if he’s in love with me. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want all the baggage I have to bring into a real relationship.”

“What baggage?” He shot back. You stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to get it. Recognition flared in Joshua’s eyes and he smiled apologetically. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you asked him if he cares about your baggage?”

You frowned. “Well, no. But who would?”

“I think you’re forgetting that he already knows about your baggage. At least the me part of it. If what you’re telling me is true—which is crazy, by the way—then he literally got involved with you on the basis of your emotional issues.”

That was a good point, actually. You took another bite of your noodles, attempting to shake off the misplaced hope Joshua had instilled in you. “It doesn’t matter. I broke it off when he confessed. I was kind of a bitch to him, actually, so I’m not sure he ever wants to see me again.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that. He looks just as bad as you do, you know. Whatever you said to him, it worked, but I know Minghao. At least, I used to. To this day I haven’t met anyone even close to the man he is. He’ll forgive you if you’re honest.” Joshua stood and stretched his shoulders, his neck still flushed from eating your food. You stared up at him, more than a little dumbfounded. “Look, there’s an exhibition for the school of photography on Friday. Student admission is included in the cost of tuition.”

You knew what he was trying to tell you. Minghao would be there, no doubt about it. If you wanted to mend things with him, it was your best opportunity to talk to him somewhere he couldn’t shut a door in your face.

He had just turned to walk away when you spoke. “Why do you even care, Joshua?”

He stopped. When he looked at you again, there was genuine regret in his eyes. “I owe you. A lot more than this, considering what I did. Consider this my first act of earning forgiveness.”

“It was Chaeyoung’s idea, wasn’t it?”

He smiled wryly. “She misses you. Even if you never speak to her again, she wants you to be happy.”

Joshua said nothing else before he walked back into the throng of students in the dining hall. You remained frozen for a long time, your ramen now ice-cold and your thoughts running circles around you.

Fear had made you break it off with Minghao at the moment he told you everything you’d been dying to hear. He’d confessed and you’d thrown it in his face, believing yourself too broken to be with someone like him. He was the sun, you were a violent storm. Where he was peace personified, you often felt closer to screaming until the heavens fell. It shouldn’t work between you, but it did.

You loved him. That much was simple. It wasn’t until this very moment that you truly considered he might love you too. He had basically said as much, but it was now, six days late, that you believed him. If Minghao felt even half as miserable as you did now, you would spend the rest of your life trying to get over the guilt of hurting him.

You groaned and let your head fall into your hands. You had royally fucked up.

~ DAY FORTY-TWO ~

It seemed kismet that the exhibition—a.k.a. your excuse to beg for Minghao’s forgiveness—took place on what should have been the last day of the arrangement. You hadn’t even been sure you would show up until you arrived at the gallery.

I’m not gonna go, you’d said to yourself while curling your hair. You’d struggled to choose between two outfits, both of which Minghao had bought for you towards the beginning of this whole thing. Sooo not going. You’d decided to put on a little bit of makeup at the last minute. I’m just gonna order takeout again.

Now, you stood in front of the glass gallery doors, your heart in your throat and fear creeping in at the edges of your vision. It would be so much easier to walk away. He hadn’t seen you yet, it wasn’t too late to back out.

Your feet carried you forward without your permission. Each step was more confident than you really felt. Even if he wouldn’t give you another chance, which you wouldn’t blame him for, you were possessed by the need to tell him he’d been right. You did love him, and you were a fool, and your inability to love maturely was not his fault.

The gallery was beautiful, architecturally speaking. Everything inside the white stone building was pale, glossy wood, accented with stainless steel and glass. A large crystal chandelier dominated most of the lobby space, looking more like dripping ice as it hung over the crowd below. Every wall, even disappearing into the corridors branching off from the lobby, were covered by student work.

Low voices formed a steady hum around you, most people enraptured by the photos on the walls. You found yourself among them. Some of these photographs were incredible. It was obvious to you that your peers had poured their entire souls into their work, and some of these images were somehow better quality than your actual vision. For the first time, you understood what drew Minghao to photography as an art form.

You walked slowly along the wall, stopping briefly to admire each piece. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, a photo of a wilting flower nearly brought you to tears. You weren’t sure if it was really the art itself or if you were just feeling fragile. Possibly both. You continued on aimlessly, almost forgetting why you were here in the first place. You had no idea where Minghao was in all this, but you were bound to find him eventually.

You stopped when you reached the end of one of the hallways, this entire section seemingly occupied by one photographer’s unique style. Most of the pictures were in black and white, a select few of them rendered in shocking color. It was one of the color photographs that drew your attention.

Recognition teased the back of your mind as you approached. It depicted a dripping sink in a public restroom, the entire space covered in grime except the vibrant blue flower sitting on the counter. You had no idea why this scene seemed familiar to you—you certainly hadn’t been in this bathroom before.

You moved on to the next color photograph, but you didn’t really see it. Your entire body seized without reason, suddenly aware of a subtle change in the air.

You felt his presence without having to look. Despite your anxiety at baring your soul to him, you felt inexplicably lighter knowing he was here. Minghao walked up to stand beside you, mirroring your stance with his arms crossed over his chest. You gazed at the picture in front of you together in silence. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus your eyes on the art.

“Why are you here?”

His voice almost brought you to tears. I love you. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

I love you, I love you, I love you. “To apologize.”

Minghao looked over at you. His eyes took you in, heat flooding your skin everywhere his gaze touched. “For what? Breaking up with me before we had a chance to date or crashing my senior photo exhibition?”

You recoiled. “Both, I guess.” You forced yourself to turn so you could look at him. It was a mistake. Minghao looked amazing. His skin was flushed with lively color, wonderfully offsetting the deep black of his hair. He’d foregone the blue-light glasses today, meaning there was nothing to protect you from the weight of his gaze. You realized with no small amount of certainty that you would do anything for Minghao to wear a suit forever. You opened your mouth and closed it several times, unsure of what to say now that he was in front of you. I love you, Hao. You were right. “Are these your pictures?”

“Yes.”

“They’re lovely.” You meant it. Minghao had a mastery over color that you would never be able to fully appreciate.

He looked back at the photograph hanging in front of you, a pensive look on his face. There was a strange, subtle humor there, too, though you had no idea why. “Thank you. It took a lot of sleepless nights, but I’m glad I didn’t give up on them.”

Guilt nagged at your thoughts. He hadn’t given up, but you certainly had. “I’m sorry I gave up,” you voiced aloud. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I was afraid. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true.” You took a deep breath and lifted your chin, staring at Minghao’s side profile as he looked at his photo. “Joshua fucked me up, Hao. I’ve been so terrified to open up again, to anyone, and I ran away the second you tried to give me what I’d been hoping for.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know. I know that now. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I tried to lie so that you would leave first. It was wrong, and I promise I’m trying. Because I—” you choked. I love you. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I love you.”

He was silent for a long time, long enough that you wondered if he would turn and walk away without a word.

“You love me?” He said at last. He spoke the words slowly, like he was tasting them, testing the weight of them on his tongue.

You shuddered. “Yes.”

Minghao took a deep breath and nodded once to himself. “You haven’t really looked at my work at all, have you?”

It was, without a doubt, the last thing you’d expected him to say. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at the piece in front of you, your eyes following the movement. You processed the couch first, then the fact that there was a body beneath a blanket on top of it. Hair fanned across a pillow, the girl’s face obstructed from view by a glare of sunlight. But one of her arms was extended, reaching limply towards whoever was behind the camera as she held up the blanket covering her. Beckoning them closer, asking them to join her.

Realization broke over you with the force of a tsunami. That was your living room. It was you on the couch, two weeks ago, sleeping the day away while Minghao watched TV from your secondary loveseat. At least, you’d thought he’d been watching TV. You remembered being cold and having trouble falling asleep, enough that you’d sleepily asked Minghao to join you. He’d pretended to be annoyed as he clicked off the television and slid onto the couch beside you, easily gathering you into his arms like you were made to be there. It was the best sleep you’d gotten since before your breakup with Joshua.

Apparently, he’d taken a picture of you before granting your tired request. The photograph, blown up to massive size and framed, was titled To Love Easily.

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with a shaking hand, your eyes darting to take in Minghao’s other displayed photographs. The bathroom. The bathroom, depicted more symbolically than it appeared in real life. Another of your hands, covered in flour from when the two of you attempted to make homemade pasta. A shot of Minghao’s fingers in your hair, a tiny blue flower petal tucked between the strands. You remembered it. He’d braided your hair for you before went to the hockey game because you were sick of it touching your neck.

All of these photos, in one way or another, were about you. The story of you, told through Minghao’s eyes. Suddenly, with blinding clarity, you saw yourself the way he did. Yes, you were a raging storm, but one seen through the window of a warm, dry home. If you decided to scream until the heavens fell, Minghao would be there to catch them.

“You love me.” You repeated his earlier question back at him, but it was no real question. Minghao loved you.

“Yes, darling, I love you.” A strangled sob broke from your chest, instantly embarrassing you. Minghao’s fingers gently took hold of your elbow and turned you to face him. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I already knew why you lashed out the way you did—expected it, even. You were just a little meaner than I expected, that’s all.”

You laughed despite yourself. One side of his lips kicked up in a small smile. His hand gently squeezed the back of your neck and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“How do you not hate me?” You murmured.

“I can’t hate you for making a mistake. I knew you would come around. I mean, have you seen me?”

You halfheartedly punched his arm as he snickered. Before you could process that he moved at all, Minghao’s mouth was on yours. The kiss was gentle. Exploratory. It was what the last kiss should have been before you ripped yourself away.

His tongue gently probed yours, one small lick across your bottom lip turning your limbs to jelly. Minghao increased the pressure, his hand drifting from your neck to between your shoulder blades, then to your waist. He gently squeezed your soft skin and, completely on accident, you released a tiny moan that only he could hear.

You broke apart immediately. You stared at one another wide-eyed, embarrassment setting your cheeks aflame. Slowly, a sly smile took over Minghao’s face. Oh god. You’d seen that look many times before.

He leaned in so his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear. He exhaled softly, drawing a small, contented sigh from you. Minghao squeezed your waist again.

“The exhibition is over in twenty minutes. Think you can wait?”

-----

You didn’t even make it through your front door before Minghao had you off your feet. You squealed as he lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his trim hips. He pressed you against the wall of your entryway, his hands braced on either side of your waist.

He nuzzled the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his lips dragging soft lines along your skin. Your sleeve had fallen down past your shoulder, baring your collarbone to the mercy of his mouth. You groaned at each small love bite he left, his mouth so gentle that you hardly felt the sting.

“I have waited—” he began, and you groaned when he sucked particularly hard on the side of your throat “—so long for this.”

You shared the sentiment. You’d developed feelings for Minghao fairly quickly into the arrangement and your brain had been plagued by imagining this exact scenario since. “Kiss me, then,” you said breathlessly.

He needed no further encouragement. Minghao’s lips eagerly found yours, this kiss nothing like its predecessors. He kissed you urgently, hungrily, like he might very well die if he stopped. You flattened your hips against his, a choked sound of pleasure escaping both of you when you ground against his erection. You hadn’t expected him to be hard already, but you figured he probably had been since the two of you hastily left the gallery.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an intensity that drew sharp pants from your throat. You returned his energy stroke for stroke, unable to get enough of him. Your hands dragged from his hair to his shoulders and further down, your nails digging in as you gripped his ass and forcibly pulled his hips tighter against yours. Minghao thrust against you, the friction making you see stars even with your clothes still on.

He gripped your ass hard enough to bruise and jerked you away from the wall so he could stumble to your bedroom. You barely made it, both of you kissing wildly and breathlessly giggling the entire way.

His body blanketed yours as you fell onto the bed, his warmth comforting and heartbreakingly familiar. You both muttered incoherent praises and I love you’s into the other’s mouth, still unable to get close enough. You sighed contentedly as he began to work his way down your body, taking clothes as he went. His chilled fingers slid beneath your blouse and helped you remove it completely, leaving you in a lacy white bra. He unabashedly moaned at the sight, and you would have giggled if not for the wet kiss he placed on each of your nipples over the fabric.

He continued his leisurely journey downwards, his hands kneading your breasts. His lips drifted across your waistline with infuriating slowness. You whined when he caught the button of your pants between his teeth and tugged lightly before moving on. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair, simultaneously enjoying its softness and lightly pulling to urge him on.

“Hao, you’re killing me here,” you murmured.

“Call it payback.” Despite his cocky words, his voice was strained with lust. You looked down at him and immediately regretted it when you almost came at the sight. His hair was wild from your hands running through it, flushed color high on his cheeks and his pupils blown so wide that hardly any brown remained.

No matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to resist burying himself inside you for much longer.

At last, Minghao unbuttoned your pants and carefully pushed them down your legs, taking your underwear with them. You tried to find it within yourself to be embarrassed at your nakedness, but you couldn’t. Minghao’s eyes devouring you like this felt so right that it put a lump in your throat.

“I love you,” you told him again, as if you hadn’t said the same three words a hundred times in the last hour. Regardless, Minghao blushed again as if it were the first time you’d told him, a sweet smile pulling at his lips. When combined with the lust-crazed look in his eyes, though, you found yourself clenching woefully around nothing.

When your lower half was sufficiently stripped naked, Minghao lifted himself off the bed so he could remove his suit jacket and button-down, stepping out of his shoes at the same time. He did so slowly, methodically, and you watched him through hooded eyes, appreciating the tension of the wait as much as he did. Your mouth dried at the sight of him. His body was leanly-muscled and utterly perfect, dotted every so often with constellations of moles and small scars from past adventures.

“You’re so pretty,” you sighed, pleased when Minghao blushed again. He didn’t let your words distract him, instead settling between your thighs and roughly tugging your hips closer to his face. You gasped as you slid down the bed, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

His breath was unbearably warm against your overheated core and, like he could sense how it drove you wild, he blew lightly on your clit. Your entire body seized, your hands immediately burying themselves in his hair again.

“If we do this, darling, I want to make something abundantly clear.”

You cracked your eyes open, unsure when you had actually screwed them shut. “Yes, Hao?”

Minghao groaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “If you say it like that again I might never let you leave this bed.” You squirmed, the need to have his mouth on you all-consuming. He kissed your other thigh, allowing his tongue to drag to your pelvic bone as you moaned. He waited until you were looking down at him, your chest heaving, before he spoke. “After tonight, I’m yours, do you understand me? You won’t be able to get me away from this pretty pussy.”

Your entire body flooded with heat. “Yes, Hao. You’re mine. I’m yours—” Your declaration cut off in a cry when Minghao’s tongue parted your folds in one long stroke. He stopped to dote on your clit, working you in tight, expert circles that catapulted you to the edge in three seconds flat.

You weren’t sure when one of his hands left your thigh, but you jolted in surprise when two of his fingers poised themselves at your entrance. He gathered your slick on his fingertips and pushed in at the same time his tongue increased its pressure. You moaned loudly and ground your hips against his face, tugging hard at the roots of his hair now. Minghao groaned against you, the vibrations driving you wild. His fingers pushed into you at an angle, over and over again, long enough that they easily bumped that incredible spot inside you on every pass.

You climbed higher and higher with no end in sight. You were a thread one small breath from snapping, your entire body quivering with your need to orgasm.

“You taste—” he sucked hard and wet on your clit “—so fucking good.”

“God, Hao, please—”

“Come for me, darling.” Minghao withdrew his fingers from you without warning. Before you could protest their absence he replaced them with his tongue, thrusting it into you with the fervor of a man starved. Your back arched and you cried out. A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body as you writhed. “Need to taste it, please—” His nose bumped your clit at just the right angle and the thread finally snapped.

Your orgasm tore through you like a shooting star. Your body lit up, explosions rippling all the way to the tips of your toes. You clenched hard around Minghao’s tongue and he moaned, obviously satisfied beyond belief, as you came in his mouth.

It felt like hours before you finally came down. Your entire body shook in the wake of what was probably the best orgasm of your life. Definitely better than any that Joshua had ever given you, a thought which made you giggle.

Minghao kissed his way up your body, his lips and chin shining with you. “What’s so funny?” He nipped at the spot below your ear before capturing your mouth in his. You groaned at the taste of you on his lips, instantly ready for him again.

“Oh, nothing.” You giggled. “Joshua could never—”

Minghao cut you off with an honest-to-god growl. He moved back to kissing your throat, leaving new hickies over the ones he’d already created. You bit your lip, still smiling at the ceiling as he lightly ground his clothed dick against your core. “Will you not say his name after I’ve just made you orgasm?” He asked indignantly.

You pushed Minghao off of you by his shoulders, pleased by the surprised look on his face as you rolled him onto his back. You felt unbelievably powerful as you straddled him now. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your breasts even if he wanted to. You wordlessly reached behind you to unclasp your bra, taking your time sliding the straps down your shoulders. At last you were left bare before him and you tossed your bra across the room.

He began to sit up, his face dark with lust, but you stopped him before he could take your nipple in his mouth. He met your eyes, confused, and you answered him with a knowing smile.

You kissed his jaw, then his throat, pushing him back down onto his back as you moved to his torso. You didn’t torture him by moving slowly as he had with you, looking up at him through your eyelashes to observe his reactions. His breaths turned into quiet, short gasps when your mouth reached the skin just above his pants.

You unbuttoned his pants slowly, taking your time pulling those down first, then his underwear. Your mouth dried when his hard cock sprang free, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You had no doubt that the stretch would be incredible—both his size and shape were perfect for you, like he had been designed with you in mind. Or perhaps the other way around. If there was ever a doubt in your mind about how much he wanted you, it was gone now.

His hips thrusted gently into the open air, seeking nonexistent friction. You took a moment to admire him and bit your lip. You pressed more kisses to his soft thighs, his knees, his hips. His cock twitched.

“Pretty boy,” you purred. He shuddered.

Minghao moaned again. “Please, baby—”

You cut him off by wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He instinctively thrusted hard, nearly choking you, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. You wantonly moaned around him, gratified by the hard shudder that worked its way through his body in response.

The taste of him was addicting. You recklessly sought more of it as you took him further into your mouth, stopping only when he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Minghao’s hands threaded into your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail at the nape of your neck. You were dripping down your thighs now, a mixture of your cum from your last orgasm and the new need to have his cock inside you.

“You’re so sexy—ah—yes, just like that.” Minghao’s praises were music to your ears, only fueling you to bob your head on him faster. You relaxed your throat as best you could, pride swelling in your chest when you managed to take him deep. He gasped sharply when you swallowed around his length. “Fuck—yes, do that again—”

You obeyed, ignoring the tears overflowing onto your cheeks and the lewd sounds you were making. Minghao seemed so turned on now that he might explode out of his skin. Your hand found his sac, gently massaging it in time with the movements of your mouth. You felt him tighten beneath you, a telltale sign that he was seconds from cumming.

Not for the first time tonight, Minghao moved too quickly for you to process in a timely manner. Before you could blink you were trapped beneath him on the mattress, tears still staining your face and the taste of his cock in your mouth. He kissed you feverishly, his dick sandwiched between you as he ground himself against your stomach.

“I want to finish inside you, not before,” he said into your mouth, eliciting a groan from deep in your chest.

“Yes,” you hissed. You took his cock in your hand and smiled when he jerked. By this point, even with your previous orgasm, both of you were so sensitive that you wouldn’t last long. “Are you clean?” you asked.

“Yes, why—”

“Good, because I want you raw. I have to feel you—”

Minghao cut you off with a wild moan and kiss, his lips barely giving you time to catch a breath. “God, I love you.”

Your heart bloomed with warmth. This is what you’d been so terrified of? Loving and being loved in return?

He helped you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, notching it in just enough to stay there as he pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. Your eyes were locked on where he entered you as he pushed in to the hilt.

You both released simultaneous moans of relief. Your limbs trembled as you tried to accommodate his size, the stretch burning through you in delicious licks of pleasure.

“You feel so good…” he murmured, taking one of your breasts into his mouth and sucking relentlessly at the nipple. “God, you’re so tight—”

You whined, urging him to move. He obeyed, slipping out of you almost completely before pushing back in. His face fell against your shoulder and he softly bit down on your flesh to stifle his moans. You unintentionally clenched around his length in response, dragging another strangled groan out of him.

He easily hit your g-spot on every thrust. You found yourself coiling tighter and tighter, dangerously close to your orgasm once again. Your walls continuously fluttered around him, made more intense by the string of unintelligible praises and curses that fell from his lips.

He captured your mouth in his again. Your nails dug into his shoulders and dragged low on his hips—you knew you would leave scratches, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Neither did he, apparently, because his thrusts turned wild. He impaled you on his cock over and over again, his pace brutal and unrelenting as you both sought your highs.

There wasn’t a single thought in your head save the feeling of Minghao pounding into you. You were an absolute mess, as was he—hair tangled, sweat-slicked bodies colliding and faces pinched with pleasure.

“Cum inside, baby—” you moaned “I’m on the pill, please. I need you—”

“Ah, fuck—” Minghao cut himself off and his thrusts grew sloppier, signaling that he was close. The sensation of his cock pulsing inside you ignited your second orgasm like a wildfire.

Your walls contracted hard enough that he moaned unrestrained this time, and he stilled momentarily as he filled you in repeated, thick spurts. Euphoria shattered through you, so intense you could scarcely breathe around it. He rocked his hips against yours slowly, working you both through your highs without crossing the line into pain.

When you both returned to earth, Minghao still didn’t remove his cock from you. Instead he rolled onto his side with his arms around you, taking you with him, and you threw a leg over his hips. You laid like that for a long time, just basking in the comfortable silence and aftershocks of your orgasms.

Tonight had ended the best way it possibly could have. You kissed Minghao lazily, like you had all the time in the world to do so. And really, you did. His fingers traced gentle lines up and down your spine as you drew small circles on his ribcage.

“Why did you agree to fake dating me?” You asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“The day we met, you said the arrangement would be mutually exclusive. What did you mean?”

Minghao laughed softly. “I’d forgotten about that. That day in the bathroom wasn’t the first time I saw you,” he confessed. “The first time I saw you was last spring outside the library. You were carrying this huge stack of books and you dropped them without question so you could help a caterpillar off the staircase. You put it in the grass and continued on like it was nothing.” Your jaw dropped. You barely remembered that and were shocked that he did, especially in such detail. “I think that’s when I fell in love with you, but who knows.” He drew back to look at you, satisfaction oozing from his every pore at your shock. He kissed the tip of your nose. “I have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

Your eyes narrowed. The last proposition had taken both of you for a wild ride, to say the least. “What is it?”

Minghao smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend?"

~ DAY FOUR HUNDRED SEVENTEEN ~

You were almost more nervous to walk across the stage because Minghao was in the audience. Graduating college was already nerve-wracking, but put a smoking-hot boy who only had eyes for you in the mix? You were a goner.

You gripped your fake diploma for dear life—the real one was tucked safely in your purse beneath Minghao’s chair—and prayed you wouldn’t eat shit halfway through your walk.

You glanced out at the audience, finding your boyfriend’s face immediately. No, scratch that—fiancé. You still couldn’t get used to it, even if it had been a month already. You glanced down at the ring glittering on your finger, a dainty, whimsical thing that perfectly suited the man who had given it to you.

The sight gave you comfort. You looked back up at Minghao, who now had a pleased smile on his face as if he could sense the direction your thoughts had taken. He flashed you a conspicuous thumbs-up and you giggled quietly.

You turned back to the stage, suddenly aware that you were next to walk. You wished Minghao were up here with you, but he had graduated the semester prior and was left to support you from afar. You watched as Chaeyoung—the valedictorian, funny enough—shook hands with the boy who had gone before you, a radiant smile on her face. She looked beautiful. But then again, she always was. One of these days, you might actually achieve fully forgiving her so you could ask where she got those earrings.

Distantly, you heard the announcer call your name and the following whoops and cheers from Minghao and your family. The grin on your face wasn’t faked—over the past year-and-a-half, more and more of your smiles had become genuine.

You took a deep breath. Aware of Minghao watching you, you took the first step into the rest of your life.

BOOM! and with that, minghaoyoudoin is finally deserving of her name haha 😆 thank you again for reading if you made it this far, please leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist here :)

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