wedding planner careers

Go With It

You show Namjoon your dominant side.

pairing: Namjoon x Reader
genre: smut, sub!Namjoon
wordcount: 6.1k
inspiration 

warnings: breathplay, sub!Namjoon, dom!y/n, edging, just general filth :-)



You had lost count of how many times people described you as the ‘sweet girl next door.’ 

People associated you with sweetness, with lightness, with shades of buttery soft pink. To friends, family, and acquaintances, you were the quietly-spoken girl who couldn’t hurt a fly. 

Little did they know.

Keep reading

The Wedding Planner - t h r e e. Ethan Dolan Mini Series

A/N: Hola! Sorry this has taken so long, i’m just lazy! Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,780
Warnings: None, I think there might be swearing but..
I wasn’t going to post this today, but it’s @artdolan‘s birthday, so this is for her! I love you Emi, Happy Birthday!

I spend the next few days doing absolutely nothing, and I make it my mission to stay inside my apartment for as long as I can. I took my time off as an opportunity to restock all the food in my fridge (online shopping, of course), and to catch up with Amelia. The minute she found out I wasn’t working, she was at my front door juggling a bag of Chinese food and a bottle of wine.

“You wouldn’t believe this guy, Mel, like honestly, he was just like this overgrown man child,” I whined, popping open a second bottle of wine, this time from my own personal stock, and filling up our glasses.  

Our Chinese food had been long eaten and empty boxes were discarded by our feet, too drunk and too lazy to clean it up.

As much as I loved my job, it was stressful at the best of times, and I rarely got a chance to vent out my frustrations. Alcohol tended to make me relax, and therefore very talkative, meaning I’ll usually blurt out everything I wouldn’t say if sober.

Amelia loved to take advantage of it. She says that sometimes it’s the only way she can get me to open up to her.

“You know…” she smirks, and I lift my eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. She takes a sip of wine for dramatic effect, and I roll my eyes at her, nudging her arm with my toe.

“Considering you can’t stand him, you sure do like to talk about him.” She said, raising her eyebrow in a way that’s daring me to challenge her. I gaped at her, opening my mouth only to close it again, my alcohol slugged mind struggling to form words.

“What? No!” I finally splutter out, putting my wine down. “No really, Mel -hic- it’s not like that. He genuinely -hic- he genuinely makes me angry! I mean yes, he’s extremely attractive, and if he had the personality to match, I’d definitely consider going there, but no. I’m honestly -hic- not attracted to him what so ever!”

Amelia laughed, and turned her full body around on the couch to face me.

“Honestly though, why do you dislike this guy so much? I mean yeah, he was rude to you,” I sit up and my protest is on the very tip of my tongue, but she holds her finger out to silence me, “and that was wrong, but he did apologise!”

“I…I don’t..” I trailed off, not really sure what to say. She did have a point. Why was I being so harsh?

“Maybe you’re right,” I tell her, picking up my wine again. “He caught in me when I was in a mood, and it would be unprofessional of me to hold a grudge. Yes, ok, you’re right. I’ll apologise.”
-

Waking up the following morning wasn’t fun. My head felt like it had been split in two, and for the first time in years I have gotten so drunk that now I was desperately battling the need to vomit everywhere.

I had originally planned to ring Grayson, but after 5 hours of headache that probably didn’t plan on disappearing within the near future, I opted for email being the better choice.

Y/NWEDDINGPLANS@GMAIL.COM

SUBJECT: Wedding arrangements.

Hi Grayson,

Hope all is well. I was wondering when you’re next free, we need to arrange numerous things for your wedding, one of them being flowers. It’s a small start, as I was thinking we could deal with all the smaller things whilst Maya was away, and then she could join us when we started planning the more important things.

As it just so happens, I have a close friend who owns a florist shop, my clients have been going to her since I started my career. Perhaps we could meet there to start with, and if you’re not happy we go elsewhere.
See you soon!

Sincerely,

Y/N

Two hours had rolled around before Grayson had replied, my laptop dinging to notify me of an email as I cooked myself pasta for dinner. Home cooked meals were something I rarely got time for.

GraysonDolan@Gmail.com

SUBJECT: RE: Wedding arrangements.

Hi Y/N

I’m free whenever you need me. I’m the boss of my own company and I am willing to allocate myself time off whenever you need me to, to help ease the strain of planning a wedding in only two months.
Just let me know when you want me, and I’ll be there.

Sincerely,

Grayson.

P.S The florist shop sounds like a great idea!

I was thankful to Grayson, that he was willing to be so flexible and he was right, he was making it easier for me to plan this wedding.

I emailed back asking if he wanted to meet up with me at 10am tomorrow, and he agreed, so I gave him the address and said I’d see him there. That gives me a final day to relax before I have to get back to work, and given the short amount of time I’ve been granted to plan the wedding, I imagine that I won’t be able to take another break until this whole fiasco is over.

I spent the rest of my day mooching around, just doing small mundane jobs such as decluttering my apartment and making sure that I was up to date with all my bills. I also had a tediously lengthy conversation over the phone with my mother, who was once again keen to remind me that she wanted grandchildren.

Honestly, I was thankful when bed time rolled around, because I was starting to get bored. I’m so constantly busy nowadays that it’s like I’ve forgotten how to relax, and I’m suddenly itching for something to do.
-
Fortunately, because I know where the location of the florist is very well, I’m not late to meet Grayson this time. He still beats me though, and he and Ethan are sat outdoors on the dainty little tables of the café next door.

Grayson jumps up from his seat when he sees me and he instantly walks over to greet me, whereas Ethan takes his time standing up and begrudgingly walks behind Grayson to follow him to where I’m standing.

We exchange our hellos, Ethan and I barely giving each other a nod of acknowledgment, and I lead the way into the shop, breathing in deeply as the overpowering smell of nature lingered in the air. It’s a smell I’ll never get tired of.

“I’m just going to let Kat know that we’re here,” I say, already making my way to the front desk, “why don’t you have a look around and see if you can find anything you like?”

Kat is a woman I’ve known way before I ever started my wedding planner career. She’s a small lady, in her mid 60’s, and her hair is just beginning to grey. I visit her once a month, as I often come here to buy a bunch of flowers for my father’s grave.

My father wasn’t much of a flower man himself, but whenever he brought home flowers for my mother, they were always ‘Forget Me Not’ flowers, also known as Mycositis, so every month I would come in to buy a bunch of them, and Kat would always keep them behind the till for me, ready to buy.

Kat has become a close friend to mine, so if my clients like her shop, which they always do, because Kat somehow manages to obtain every flower imaginable, regardless of the season, I like to bring  them for, to bring her in a great deal of business.

“Kat!” I grin, walking around the counter to give her a hug, which she openly accepts.

“Hello, dear. Oh goodness, it’s not been a month already has it? I completely for-“

“No! No, Kat, it’s okay,” I laugh, pulling away from the hug, “I’ve got a lovely young gentleman here who is getting married in about 2 months, and he’s not sure what flowers he wants, so I brought him here for your expertise.”

“I see,” she says, leading me out from behind the desk. We walk around the shop to find Grayson knelt down beside a display of Pointsettia flowers. He’s holding his phone out in front of him, and he’s speaking to it in a low, quiet voice. He’s on FaceTime with Maya.

“That’s the Christmas flower dear, not very practical for an Autumn wedding, hm?” Kat teases him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Grayson huffs out an embarrassed laugh as he stands up, pointing the camera back towards him, Maya’s beaming face on the other end.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you again,” she tells me, sounding genuinely excited. It reminds me that whilst this may be nothing more than 2 months of utter hell for me, at the end of it, yet another couple get their happily ever after, something that they entrusted me to make perfect for them.

“And you,” I say, offering a wave and a grin. I turn my attention to Kat, who has been watching the interaction with a fond smile on her face.

“Grayson, Maya, this is Kat. Kat is a personal friend, who I have been coming to for all my flower needs for years, and I promise you that you won’t be disappointed.”

Kat blushed and swatted at my arm good naturedly before offering a hand for Grayson to shake. “And you must be the lovely bride,” she said, waving at Maya, who waved back.

“Now then, do you have any idea what kind of flowers you want?” She asked, to which she received a blank look from Grayson. Kat and I both laughed.

“Erm, we don’t know really. Just anything wedding-y, I guess,” Grayson shrugged, looking down at Maya to see if she had anything to say.

She was just as clueless to Grayson, so Kat lead us all to a shelf tucked away in the back of the shop and pointed at the flowers displayed there. “These, my dear, are the traditional wedding flowers.”

The shelf was adorned with Roses, Tulips, Calla Lillies, Hydrangeas, Peony, Ranunculus and several other traditional wedding flowers, an explosion of colours that takes my breath away every time I see them.

I hear Maya’s excited squeal and I laugh to myself, excusing myself to walk around the shop and give them time alone with Kat so that they can decide between them. As I make my way around the shop, I’m so immersed in looking at all the floors that I almost walk straight into Ethan.

“Oh, So-“ I cut myself short as I look up to see Ethan looking down at me, a twisted smirk on his lips. I narrow my eyes at him, anger already flowing through my blood. Apologies be damned.

“Oh, it’s you.”

His chuckle is cold, and it sounds like it comes from a place of annoyance rather than amusement.

“What, no apology?”

I scoffed. “And why would I apologise to you?”

His smirk becomes more twisted, and I internally pump my first in victory as he poorly hides the irritation from his face.

“For a professional, how the hell can you be so childish?”

My jaw drops open in disbelief, “Me?! Childish? Are you kidding me? You’re the one who had a tantrum towards me the first time I met you!”

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step towards me. It was an intimidating move, but I’m incredibly stubborn, so I held my ground.

“You were late! And I apologised for that! You were the one who didn’t accept my apology!”

I took a step towards him, my eyes narrowing further. I was practically squinting at this point, and it must of looked ridiculous, but I don’t care. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was the brother of the man who was paying me to plan his wedding, I would have been full blown screaming in his face.

“You didn’t deserve one!” I hissed.

I don’t know what it is, but everything about this guy just fills me with rage. He brings out a cruel, childish side of me, regardless of the fact that I barely know him, and it appears that I bring out the same ugly side of him.

We’re standing so close at this point that if we were the same height, we’d be nose to nose.

A forced cough trips through the tense atmosphere, and I break out of whatever enraged trance I was in, stepping back and refusing to look at Ethan.

I turn to look at Grayson, who is looking at us with a shocked expression, holding a bunch of Stephanotis. My cheeks heat up, and I too become shocked when I realise what just happened.

“Erm, we’ve picked our flowers, and I er, just wanted to show you some samples of the ones we chose,” Grayson spoke slowly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. I feel mortified.

“Oh, they’re… lovely.” I tell him, barely able to look him in the eye. I can’t believe how unprofessional I’ve been. I’ve never let my emotions get in the way of business, until now.

I can’t help but feel more resentment towards Ethan.

No one has ever managed to get such a reaction out of me before, and I don’t know why Ethan is different, but I have a feeling it might just have cost me a job.

“Well, I’m just going to pay … for …” He trailed off, clearing his throat again, before swiftly turning and walking towards the front desk.

I don’t even need to look at Ethan to know that he has a smug smirk on his stupid face. His whole body is practically radiating with cockiness.

I huff, unable to stop myself, and walk away from Ethan before I can make the situation worse for myself.

I stand at the door of the shop, patiently waiting for Grayson to pay, whilst Ethan walks to the desk to join him. I can’t look at them, so I pretend to be looking at the flowers with added interest.

“No E, I can’t let you,” I hear Grayson protest, and curiosity gets the better of me, so I look up.

Ethan has pushed Grayson to the side and pulled out his own wallet, dodging Grayson trying to grab him as he puts his own card into the payment slot.

“Nah bro, don’t worry, I got this one.” Ethan tells him, nudging Grayson’s arm good naturedly. Grayson pulls him into a side hug. It’s sweet, and I’d of enjoyed watching the interaction a lot more if Ethan didn’t piss me off so much.

What an asshole.

They finish paying and we make our way out of the shop, Ethan not even bothering to say goodbye as he walks straight towards Grayson’s car. Jerk.

“Grayson… about earlier.. That was incredibly unprofessional of me. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, and I promise it won’t happen again.”

Grayson studies me for a few moments and he’s not angry. He just looks curious. Eventually he sighs and nods at me.

“Maya likes you,” he says, and when I bow my head in shame, Grayson puts a comforting hand on my arm, “and I do too,” he adds quickly, which makes me smile.

He sighs again, running his hand in his hair. For the first time, I notice how tired he looks, and guilt tugs at my stomach.

I forget that this wedding planning is every bit exhausting to him as it is to me, and he clearly doesn’t know the first thing about planning weddings.

“Look, Ethan’s a good guy, okay? Annoying and stubborn, yes, but a good guy. I just hope you can see that.”

I nod by head with sincerity, vowing to do better. I won’t let my personal anger against Ethan get the better of my professionalism ever again.

We bid our goodbyes, and as Grayson drives away, Ethan gives me what can only be described as an ‘holier than thou’ smirk.

White rage flashes through me and I punch my steering wheel before taking a deep breath and starting up my car.

2 months, Y/N, you can do this.

You can.