loveurn

[loveurn]

( outfit reference, shirt is definitely longer )

sooyoung always had to stop and wonder how she found herself in these situations. 

and really if she had the time to think, to really think about them she doesn’t know if part of her was ashamed that they were ending up with her here. here? here being perched on her boss’ office desk and with his hands a few centimeters from her hips, her thighs...yeah. and his lips buried in her neck.

rewind.

given the type of work that sooyoung does, she’s often thrown around between any executives that need her for projects, when her director doesn’t. her previous occupation as a personal assistant doesn’t quite leave her with her newer responsibilities, and if they need someone to tie up loose ends on a project, they’ll call her, request her, drag her into precarious deals and jobs. 

not precarious as in, out of her job description just the outrageousness in how they tried to split her into four - five people was astonishing. but sooyoung is nothing if not diligent, that’s probably what got her here in the first place. she’s too damn diligent, she’s works too hard too well and when they notice it, they’re all rushing to snatch her up. since dylan’s taken a liking to her work ethic ( and her ) anyone the boss tends to favor must do good work.

she supposes that’s her own fault too. she agreed to help dylan on the projects he’d had, after discovering how well they worked together on their first few projects. she was just assisting but - she’d assisted too damn hard. she cursed her inability to do mediocre work - but really it’s the inability to say no. dylan’s been trying to help her with that but, well there’s other reasons why that’s not going too well. 

either way. she’s prone to phone calls on her days off because what’s a day off. and she’s even more prone to answering when it’s dylan and she’s not sure the nature of the call. she’ll do anything to stop her heart from skipping at seeing his name show up on her screen. that led her to where she is, not perched on the desk, but at least at his office, to the company. he’d needed help with reorganizing and conceptualizing a couple ideas they were meant to present to the board. while sooyoung was sure this could wait something in his voice sounded urgent, so she’s promised to head there as she’s in the area.

it’s no secret that with her job description, there’s very little time for free time and social activities. now that her cover’s been blown she can’t quite go to the club with the bartender giving her the most knowing look each time he slides a drink over. but sooyoung works a lot, and she doesn’t meet her friends often, today had been one of the days they’d planned light shopping and catch up. she’d wanted to put aside dylan’s request but at the sound of his name, both her friends betrayed her and assured her they could meet another time. as if.

so she’d headed to the office.

she’s partially happy no one’s there to give her questions aside from the security guard used to seeing her at odd hours of the day. for the most part the office is empty, not for the most part, it is aside from a few receptionists who asks if she wants her usual before she heads to his office. sooyoung declines, in favor of heading to his office to hurry up and finish whatever it is. with word that dylan was expecting her and sooyoung barely in the door to announce that he was - sooyoung thinks that’s where it started. it started with the look her gave her when she’d closed the doors behind her. it’s something she should be used to, he does it all the time.

looks at her like he doesn’t know what to say. like he has something to say and can’t figure out if he should. it makes her nervous, makes her skin tingle because it’s always accompanied by a smile, to assure her it isn’t bad - it’s just....hard.

‘your skirt.’

she follows his gaze, lower, until she remembers she had been with her friends. that had meant she was more casual, more comfortable. and it’s getting hot so that means skirts, and lots of them. a brown pleated one that’d become her favorite and a collared blouse. she wasn’t going to run home and change just for this - but the way he’s staring, finding her words makes her think she should.

“is it inappropriate?” her nerves get the better of her really, because despite all that he’s said and declared about her - how he feels, she stills finds herself getting shy. dylan must know because sooyoung shows everything on his face and he grins, focused now.

‘have i told you i love plaid on you?’ that makes her brush past him to head towards the living desk where papers are laid out, blush all the way down to her chest. he had told her that he loves skirts, plaid, black and many other things on her, because he doesn’t stop anything that leaves his mouth when it comes to her.

they do get to work, with the occasional comments from him and occasional pauses to glance and remind her in so little words how good he thinks she looks. 

‘are you going back out to buy more? i’ll buy the whole store.’ that gets a folder, empty and useless thrown in his direction. he just laughs, saying stuff like that and he just laughs, like it’s no big deal. like it’s normal. sooyoung could smack him. but they do keep working, and they do get through the meat of what he needed done, it wasn’t as bad as she thought but it was quite the set of work.

“you actually did need me.”

it’s said when they’re taking a break, debating if they should pack it up for the night. dylan gives her a look from the other side of his desk where he’d been filing everything. he’d been rummaging through to see what else they needed, sooyoung leaning against the table.

‘you think i just called you over because i wanted to?’ “wouldn’t you?”

okay - it’s fair to add they’d cracked open a wine bottle or two to help them get through the more trying parts of the files. and sooyoung feels a little warm all the way down to her hips but - she’s not wrong. dylan has the nerve to look surprised like she’s wrong, then he grins.

‘if you show up looking like this, i’ll make up anything i have to.’ “you don’t have to make up anything to get me over here.”

he’s stopped rummaging with whatever’s in his hands and sooyoung should be paying attention to the look he gives her when the words slip out her lips. instead - forever whatever reason she’s watching the files fall to the desk and her eyes watch his hands. because one thing about dylan she’s noticed is - he manages to stress her out without doing a lot. it infuriates her quite a bit. even casual - slacks and a button down - even in this he looks every bit as stunning and distracting as usual. with his arms out for the world to see and his stupid hands ---

‘i’m glad you find my infuriatingly handsome but my hands aren’t stupid.’

this.

this is how sooyoung finds herself in these situations. because she gets lost in her thoughts and can’t distinguish what isn’t a thought anymore until it’s too late. dylan is laughing, she knows it, he’s looking so smug and she watches those same hands rise to cross over his chest.

‘anything else you find infuriating about me?’

it’s a trap. god she knows it’s a trap.

“your eyes.” he quirks a brow at that and she wants to say his stupid handsome face but she’s not done. “you always look like you don’t know what you want to say to me, like you’re hiding some secret you don’t think i want to know. makes me mad because it’s so obvious - you’re so expressive.”

‘you want to know what i’m thinking?’

she doesn’t give him the chance to keep going because she’s cutting him off. maybe she shouldn’t have, maybe she should have given him the chance to continue because she would’ve noticed that he was moving, that he was getting closer as she fired off at her mouth. she would’ve watched gears turn in his head, a man suddenly on a mission. 

“i want to know why you always look at me like you want to do something and don’t. or whatever it is - i don’t know. you pick and choose when you want to be shameless. there’s nobody here and you won’t give me that courtesy.”

she’s talking - nonsense really. because dylan is very expressive with her. too expressive almost. because he’d been determined to make sure she knew how he felt, to the point where it embarrasses her. but she likes it, sooyoung likes it though she won’t admit it, it flusters her, it makes her feel good, wanted. what infuriates her, is not being able to be that expressive back. what infuriates her is hearing him say things, seeing him look at her and knowing what she’d like to do or like to say.

‘what would you have me do?’

she hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten that close. she didn’t even realize how closely she was leaning on the desk. but dylan’s voice is closer, and when she glances at him, he looks so fond, so amused with it all. she can smell his cologne more so than before, and the breath she takes, she can lie it’s to catch her breath and not breathe him in.

“what do you mean?”

he hums, and the curve of her smile makes her want to trace it with her fingers. the way the shirt hangs as he leans against his palm and his chest is open and on display, a comfort he only lets loose around her. she wants to see what it’s like for her fingers to tangle in the buttons, in the fabric. in him.

‘this courtesy you want, you want to know what i’m thinking?’

does she? can she handle what she’s thinking?

“what are you thinking right now?” sooyoung doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam her up and down and her knees buckle. ‘i’m thinking, if i kiss you how i want to, we’d need to lock the door.’

that wakes her up, or at least helps her straighten up. dylan’s look has changed now, it’s not the same fond grin. there’s fondness there but there’s also the way it roams everywhere before coming back to her eye. it’s the way the corner of his lips have formed a smirk, and there’s suggestion in everything. in how low his voice gets, how close he’s gotten to her, how it travels goosebumps down her skin.

sooyoung is quick, quicker than ever. she leans over to the other side of the desk and her fingers fiddle with the button she knows locks the door automatically. she hears the click and doesn’t give herself time to register the shock in his features, if there’s any shock. no. she takes hold of his collar, scoots up onto the desk and pulls him.

it’s clumsy, god it’s clumsy but his lips are on her and dylan as always knows how to take the lead when she’s flustered. when her hands falter and her shyness comes out, he’s already got a hand on her neck to hold her steady, keep her to him and another to steady her on the desk, body slotted between her thighs.

dylan is heavy, and somehow that grounds her. it helps her find purchase in his shirt when his lips finally leave hers and start to trail everywhere else. he’s marked a map down her neck, collarbone and his teeth play at the top of her shirt, a question in his eyes that don’t need answering. he just stays there, watching, listening to the pants that she’s too shameless to hold back. she feels a grin against her chest as his hands find purchase stop her hips, playing and flitting with the pleats in her skirt.

‘wanna know why i love the skirt?’

sooyoung is dizzy, a mess really and all her thoughts are dylan, regardless of what he’s saying. just him, his movement, how he feels and makes her feel. so she nods, nods the best she can through hazy eyelids. he grins at that, and he surges forward to kiss her again, this time his hands slipping under the skirt, grabbing at her hipbones and thumbing ever so gentle at the waistline. all the while his body’s pushed flushed against him, her legs are up around his waist and sooyoung can hear herself now, she can hear the groans and the sounds and she’s red to her feet.

“dylan.”

‘wanna know what i’m always thinking about?’

sooyoung isn’t sure what sound she makes when he starts kissing through the fabric of her shirt.

‘how many ways can i remind you that you’re mine?’

she doesn’t have it in her to think about the noises she makes now. she feels hot, on fire in places she’s not used to. dylan roaming in places that have usually only been ghosted, teased at. but it’s real, it’s him and she’s burning, she’s pressing closer, she’s aching and doesn’t know how to express it. she must been doing something right because the man smiles against her lips, against the kiss.

‘think i’ve found a couple.’

swear to god sooyoung doesn’t know how she ended up here, but she’ll figure it out to get here again.

and again.

[loveurn]

love it.

sheesh. click for jacuzzi link. )

jay doesn’t get vacations often. minus the fact that he manages to treat each and every day like it’s his world and everyone is living in it - minus the fact that he basically does what he wants and lives each day like he makes his own rules. it is his world and everyone is just living in it. so his days are - vacations in the sense that he doesn’t like to be too stressed if he can help it. he likes that laid back characteristic of himself, and the fans eat up how he switches to perfectly placed perfectionism for his shows. it’s really only worth stressing if it’s to make them happy. 

just don’t tell them that. 

either way. he doesn’t get the real days off, where his phone isn’t ringing about impromptu sessions or sessions coming up or yadda yadda yadaa. he’s usually busy, he’s always busy really. if it’s not practice it’s a studio session, if it’s not a studio session it’s an interview, a company meeting, a photoshoot. he chose this life, he relished this life truly - but he doesn’t get a lot of time for vacations with new songs and albums and expectations.

nowadays though, with how well his last album did, with the records and the charting, the company has decided to grace him with the idea. a weekend away, as away as he can get being a star. jay had gobbled it up but he knew there was a catch to it - there always was one. do a couple shoots, intimate interviews and record some of it for fan content. he’d agreed, on one condition.

see if jay was anything, he was shameless. utterly shameless. he’d personally requested time off for another staff member - opting to pay for the work they’d miss. no one had batted an eye when he’d mentioned it either, because they all knew, half of them were glad to let jay ‘blow off steam’ as they’d mentioned. because the truth was among all the promotions and the preparations, there’s only one person he wanted to whisk off to an island where no one could bother them.

the apple of his eye, the beat to his heart, his forever muse.

“hey beautiful, come here often?”

sohee is a dream. she hadn’t made much of a fuss when he’d given her the terms of their time away, adding that he didn’t need to pay for time off or anything. seeing as he had to strike a deal that she’d help dress him for content - and that part of it included work, he didn’t let her fight him on it too much. he was set, because he’d use this time for them - time he’s been trying to sneak between absent touches and quick kisses. they hadn’t had time together and he’s sure everyone in the waiting room is tired of a grumpy jay who can’t spend time with his girlfriend how he wants. 

and that’s sohee, hair pulled up, face bare and rosy save for some lipstick she keeps teasing him with. sohee who’d sent him a myriad of emojis when he’d said to meet him down by the jacuzzi. she’d been shy about some things but jay had picked a vacation spot too far out to be bothered, nation star or not, he had his ways. and his manager was - thorough when he needed to be. sohee - whose swimsuit is hidden by the t-shirt she’s thrown over it. sohee who looks more like she’s come to lure him into the water and make him a fool for her ten times over.

jay whistles like the menace he is as she gets closer to him.

“vacations look good on you babe.”

she’s settled by the edge of the hot tub, toes peeking over the edge as she crouches by him. jay grins up at her, arms resting right where he can tip his head onto them and watch, admire. he’s grinning like a fool and he knows it. she’s not helping, smiling, blushing like he’s not like this all the time. flicking him with water each time his eyes wander.

‘you mean your t-shirt?’ “my t-shirt. the swimsuit. me. pick one.”

he’s almost positive they’d sent him here to let off more than just steam. because jay has never really known how to keep thoughts, words, impulses to himself. and it’s taken quite the few scolds and smacks from staff to remind him, he’s an idol and he has fans and ‘god you can’t just stare at her every time she comes around’ and ‘jesus jay just kiss her why don’t you - no we were kidding wait!’, things like that. 

he takes a moment, to admire, nothing too different from usual. but he does anyway because he can, because this woman. this woman - despite all the confidence and damn swagger she carries when she steps in the room, this woman has the nerve to let her cheeks turn that little rosy color and flick him again when his fingers play with them bottom of his shirt.

‘jay.’ “it’s gonna get wet anyway.”

he’s smug, he’s so smug, and it’s because he’s antsy. the water’s perfect, it’s hot and it’s perfect because his blood’s burning, his fingers itch to move, to hold every part of her, in a way he’s been aching to. so he scoots back into the water and when he comes closer, it’s right before her, hands propped up onto the pavement so he can really see, really admire.

and place a few kisses where it’s worth. on the tops of her knees, over he thighs and then to her chest, her chin, her lips. 

“you gonna come in or do I need to drag you?” ‘you wouldn’t if you don’t want me strangling you.’ “damn. promise?” ‘jay.’

he grins, and he can���t stop grinning because sohee is just - so easily everything and the only thing he wants to think about. all the time, everytime. she’s all he wants to smell, to feel, to be beside and he didn’t think he could ever feel this consumed. and if she’s got him like this, it’s only fair he do the same, return the favor. he lets his gaze fall until he’s found his footing inside the water on a ledge. then he takes to coercing her, which is - pretty easy.

it starts with the kiss first, as all good things with her do. the kiss is gentle, playful because she’s giving him a glare and he’s gotta get past that first. so he kisses her, keeps his hands to himself, right until the moment he’s doing what gets a gasp and gets her melting. it’s a little nipping and a little fighting but he’s there, and when she gasps it deepens and he’s sure she’s starting to feel as hot as the water. because as their mouths move, as he inches closer, his hand slips up the knee and over to her thighs. it smooths over the skin because jay is going to appreciate it first, going to grab and knead at it the way he’s missed. but that’s what gets her to lean back, him leaning forward and her legs extending out over the water.

with one down the other follow suit. his hand hovers at the hip, thumbing right over her hipbone, where the shirt’s rode up and his thumb is on a waistband - jay can’t help but grin into the kiss.

he’s almost sure what color she’s wearing under his shirt, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see it. as one hand grips her hip, playing with the fabric there in a way that has her panting - jay slips his other arm around to pull her in the water. sohee - and the woman that she is, holds onto him for life - and jay not risking curses thrown his way, doesn’t drag her or throw her in, he just pulls her in. he doesn’t stop the kiss, he doesn’t loosen the hold, he just tugs her close, and wades back into the water.

she lets it happen because she’s occupied and duh - that was the point. with his hold on her, he feels the shirt become heavier and he feels it bunch up to the surface before it starts to stick to her. he watches the white start to turn the red of the swimsuit underneath and he can hear the sound he makes in the kiss. for that reason only he stops to really take her in and let her get used to the water on her, get her footing and maybe catch her breath.

“told you it’d get wet anyway.” ‘you’re the worst.’ “how’s the water?”

she’s standing full height now, and tying the loose parts of the shirt around her torso. jay swallows and lowers himself in the water, wading around and getting the full view of her. because sohee in an already hot jacuzzi, water still dripping from her hair as she ties it up, pretty scowl on her lips that are traces of red and traces of how much he’d smeared around, well i don’t think anyone could blame him. 

‘it’s nice.’ “still wanna strangle me?”

he expected the splash of water that comes his way. 

“this is not the place for a water fight.” ‘yeah? then what’s the place for?’

and that punctuates with another splash of water right into his face. jay’s competitive - and sohee always challenging him is what gives him the motive to never drop that side of him. because there’s always a glint in her eye, always that playful challenge that implies she always knows what she’s doing and she knows the outcome she wants. god he loves that about her the most. or maybe it’s the way his shirt hugs the sides of her hips when it’s tight like that. or damn - maybe it’s how her lips look after he’s focused on them for minutes on end.

whatever. 

the next time she moves to splash him - he moves to stop her. and when he moves to stop her, she flies out the way. there’s not a crazy amount of room for her to escape him, so as he advances she circles around. she’s laughing and she’s looking as free and happy as he hoped she’d would when he suggested the vacation. jay’s struck for a moment - with how much he knows he loves her and wants only her - it’s the moment she uses to hold the hands grabbing for her and move him back to the wall of the jacuzzi.

dumbfounded, he pauses to center himself and look, really look at her. 

‘i win.’ “yeah? do what you want.”

his chest heaves a bit, his skin burns from the changes in temperature each time he moved in and out. but it’s nothing dramatic, it’s even less about the jacuzzi and the heat in the room, than it is about just how he feels whenever he’s with her. on fire? electric. sohee stares at him, her smile just as wide but she’s the same, eyes wide and playful, chest heaving from all the movement. jay gives her a look as he leans back. maybe it’s how he feels his lids get heavy, feels his tongue swipe over his lips and his finger beckon her, he barely feels himself moving he’s so lost in her and he’s not sure what it is, but she’s moving forward to kiss him.

that much was obvious, that she was going for a kiss. but all of that - all of it leads to no surprise when his hand sneaks behind her waist. no surprise in her motions when she leans forward, moves her arms to allow him to untie the knot she’d made in the shirt to secure it. no whines or protests when his hands run up everything he’s been aching to touch, to feel, before the shirt is slipped off of her and she’s slotted over his knee as the hairtie comes off as well. 

now she’s over him, hair falling over her face as she kisses him, as he holds her hips, as his hands travel around and to places that have her throwing her head back and holding onto him wherever she can. her hands stay on his face, on his chest, his shoulders, wherever she can keep herself up, where he can practically see the electricity course through her. but jay’s got her, he’s holding her steady, in place, however to keep her making the sounds she is as his lips find other places to draw them from that aren’t her lips. her neck, under her jaw, her shoulder, the little dip where the top of her swimsuit drives him crazy. he nips around tasting salt and bits of whatever lotion always makes her smell so good.

he can’t be bothered to care.

‘jay...’ he almost doesn’t make out the call over the sound of the jacuzzi and the two of them, locked in each other. 

“hm?” he’s paused, his fingers aching to keep going, pads pressing into her sides. he’s still on fire, in ways the jacuzzi can’t come close to, in ways that still have him pressing close, lips hovering over her ear, ready to give her anything.

‘i’ve decided - which one i like on me.’ her words are panted, they’re heavy and they’re slurred and they sound so sexy against his skin. “....what....” jay’s own head is fuzzy, consumed with thoughts of what he wants to do, what he needs to do and all he’s been waiting for. he can’t really process what she’s talking about, just the fact that she always feels so perfect when she’s pressed against him, when she sounds as out of breath as she makes him feel. he can feel her form the words as the seconds go by. ‘you said your t-shirt....the swimsuit or you.’ “babe, you’re killing me...”

‘you.’

oh.

that one. that one word, with sohee’s own hands gripping, traveling lower and jay’s out of the jacuzzi, her in his arms faster than she can make a clarification. she’s giggling before he can even get them to the room.

say less. 

[loveurn]

( bold italics just mean they’re in his language : ) )

bo has seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, most that he can attribute to a couple things. one, being that he’s been blessed with this position, crown prince and surrounded by most luxuries that people only dream about. of course those are the obvious beauties, the surface level things that he notices in passing - such as the fine material that drapes even the large ceiling wide windows in the castle, or the architectural beauty of the castle itself. those are things he admires on the daily but they don’t quite stick with him as much as others.

take his country for example. it’s something he never gets tired of looking at - no matter the view, the angle, the time of day, the season. it’s something that could never sullen his mood no matter the state of affairs, or his affairs for that matter. their land - his land was beautiful and he loved and adored it like no other. the pride instilled in him by his parents - was nothing compared to the love that grew on his own. from running down cobblestone paths to the sea, to getting a view of the sunrise from the higher peaks of the nation, from areas left untouched to grow out in all their glory. 

his country is the most beautiful thing he’d seen in his life. second to his mother of course.

and nowadays, both are coming second to one person. it’s not hard to guess who it is and why. 

joy’s a vision. always and everyday he looks forward to what she teaches him, the parts of her she shows to him and the ways he learns about love and finds out how to love how to find more beauty in her and everything she does. it’s a bit dramatic, but she’s started to give the world a new meaning, a new category really. she’s just - gorgeous in ways that awe him everyday. in ways that make him struggle to find words in his language and hers to encompass it. she just is and he’s so grateful, so in love.

joy in any form, in any way she’ll give herself to him is beautiful, appreciated and adored.from giving her palm so he can lead her down tot he docks in the morning, to letting him hear a full laugh when his mother is scolding him for joining them in the kitchen she he has duties. her blush when he’s stealing kisses before running off to deal with his affairs, to the words out her lips as she talks, recites her thoughts on new things she’s learned, and picked up.

he doesn’t think he could be more surprise and yet again she’s managed to catch him speechless with his own thoughts and surprise.

the mornings of his nation, bo’s found he loves them more than any. he’s quite spoiled, with the way the sun hits his chambers - their chambers. it’d been the first thing he’s wanted to show her - to really show her. because these chambers are now their own - from this morning on she’s to reside in them with him and not her own - unless she wishes for the space. but as of the ceremony that’s passed and as of their vows - she is his and this area is theirs. the first thing bo had wanted to do - was share the most beautiful moment of his land with someone whose brought that beauty to him when he was away. 

he’s an early riser, always has been when he adopted the habit of watching the sun peek into his room. and for a moment, he’s a little dazed, his body feels light and heavy at the same time, spent and hot. it’s not the weight of the covers or the morning heat their climate always reminds him of. it’s the weight that’s upon his chest. closer inspection, sleep rubbed out of his eyes reveals joy and is he could kick himself for forgetting, the events of last night flood through him. just like that he doesn’t just feel her head on her chest, he doesn’t feel the rise and fall of her chest and fingers tickling skin. 

he feels. he remembers. the sounds that had reverberated through the room, he catches the remnants of the gown she’d allowed him to make quite the mess of on the floor. the nightgown she was meant to slip in after but had fallen asleep underneath him instead. he remembers his name - her name, mantras entangled into the walls all night as they connected - wholly with one another. he remembers seeing the ring on her finger and being unable to stop himself, he remembers joy - unabashedly spurring him on, he remembers how her face scrunched up, how she shuddered, how she’d felt from the first slide to the end.

and he thinks he didn’t know beauty that well before. 

she’d done her job of redefining it this morning. 

bo doesn’t move, he feels her legs tangled in his own, feels her breath tickle his bare chest. he feels every soft and gentle part of her press against him with each breath. he doesn’t stop himself from indulging, allowing himself to run his hands along smooth skin, reliving each part that’d been kissed, worshipped the night before. a couple love bites here and there but if anything he does it to take in all the spots he’d fallen deeper for and the moves - the motions that elicited the sweetest of sounds form her lips.

he aches to hear them again he won’t lie. he wants to indulge in all she has to offer, all she’s willing to give, she just wants to feel her again. he’s become a starved man and he’ll accept the consequences of all she does by simply existing. but for now - boy remembers his plans. simple taps against her waist are his tactic to wake her, kisses pressed to her forehead as she stirred.

“morning, my love.” her morning is a grumble and his heart swells at the raspiness and the practiced sound of good morning in his language. “i want to show you something.”

joy’s response is a groan, muffled and pressed into hairs on his chest. he chuckles and wraps his arms around her and the blanket to lift her up with him. “it will only take a second.” as if on cue, joy uses the energy she has to throw her arms around his neck, face remaining pressed in bo’s chest when she realizes only the blanket is covering her bare skin. one look down and he’s reminded of the very things that’d drove him crazy the night before.

‘hurry up.’

he’s gentle, lifting her close to him and carrying the entire duvet with him as he approaches the windows to the balcony of their chamber. he’s generous with his kisses, and even more generous at her giggles when his hands tap at parts of her body. it’s tricky maneuvering one of the curtains over with her in his arms, but he manages, not wanting to cause any danger to his beloved. when he’s managed to move it over - enough to let the light flicker in, he shields her eyes for a moment whispering for her to take her time.

“look up.”

the realization comes before the sound can leave her mouth. he watches her eyes light up, watches the sunlight shine over her body as the kingdom comes into view. he watches his kingdom reflect in her eyes, the way he sees it, and he has to keep himself from pulling her in for another kiss, he doesn’t steal the moment. he lets her feet finally touch the ground and her hold the duvet up as she presses against the window.

‘it’s beautiful.’

bo wonders what he should say now. he wonders of all the things he’d whispered into heated kisses and skin last night and decides those are for later, for their years together. he knows what he should say and his lips lower to her ear, a kiss placed to her cheek.

“it’s ours.”

there’s no remarks, about how it’s really his parents or how it couldn’t belong solely to them because the weight of the words settles in her. he watches her digest them, take in the real meaning before giving a response. and that response settles instead as a smile, something warm and sure and bo can’t resist giving her another kiss when she nods, ring hand clutched to her chest.

‘thank you.’

he doesn’t really let her finish the sentence because he’s shaking his head, resolved in picking her back up, but this time for her back to fall pressed against the window and her to face him. now his kingdom, his home and the most beautiful thing for most of his life, is framed by her. by her lips, open in a soft gasp an even softer smile, her eyes, focused on him and nothing else. the slopes of her shoulders around the greens and yellows of the kingdom before him.

now that kingdom is framed by the most beautiful and precious thing to him. and he’s anything if blessed to be able to have them both.

“i love you.”

he does wait enough to hear her say it back, but right after she’s littered in kisses, in all the passion that floods into him as he steps back to the bed ready to give her all of him and more. again and again.

[loveurn]

@principalles

taeyang has never prided himself on being - aware of most things. that’s why it took him so long to realize he wasn’t the only one stumbling over words and feelings when it as him and hyunshik. that’s why others find it so endearing and so frustrating to watch some of his interactions. it’s also why his sister’s grown so incredibly protective of him, despite the fact that he helps others for a living.

he’s observational where it matters, though the nature of his powers often causes him trouble. it’s not something he talks about and it’s never been something he’s had to address. he’s thought about it, contemplated how to explain it to hyunshik and if it would matter if he did. the fact is that hyunshik has observed and learned all of the side effects in taeyang’s personality that his powers cause and he’s said nothing about it. rather, he’s come to enjoy being around those parts of him, so taeyang has reserved to letting them stay what they are. a personality trait and nothing more.

spacing out. constant fatigue. the droopy look in his eyes. daydreaming.

the more time they spend together and the more taeyang’s space becomes filled with hyunshik, the more the edges start to blur, the more comfortable he gets. hyunshik’s never asked him why in the beginning he didn’t sleep in his room, nor did the man ask him why he always found himself up late at night, why he’s always tired despite always sleeping through bits of the day. hyunshik’s not a man who pries and taeyang appreciates it, even if he knows the man is just questioning and sifting through possibilities and rationalities on his own. it’s not enough to drive him away, so taeyang is content.

that’s why, when he does get a question, he’s not fully prepared for it. it’s a question, without nothing too serious underneath it. just general curiosity, as most questions tend to be. it’s a question that comes with the peak of morning through the cafe blinds. it comes with the brushing of a hand - taeyang usually the more bold one when they’re at hyunshik’s workplace. but there’s his hand, brushing taeyang’s hair out his face, regarding him with a look that takes a few seconds to process. that fact is exactly where the question had come from.

‘you look faraway sometimes.’

a question and a statement actually. it’s gentle, not too prying but the answer itself has so many things tucked away in it, tat it still feels a little invasive. invasive in that - when taeyang is used to this phrasing, this question, it always follow some sort of criticism. some sort of dig into who he is and what he can’t control and people couldn’t understand. he bristles, only for a few seconds because he remembers this is hyunshik. hyunshik’s whose words can be sharp but have never been anything but mellow and gentle when they cross him. crass maybe, honest but still gentler than most would realize. hyunshik, who had asked with a smile, with something so fond and nonjudgemental that taeyang knew it was just an observation, a move to learn more about each other and how they’ve opened up and shown more of themselves since being together. 

“holidays tire me out.” that’d been taeyang’s answer. after taking the elder’s hand in his own, and resting his entire cheek on it to lay against the table. it’s not the entire truth but it’s the truth. it’s easier to get pulled into dreams during the holidays and it’s easier to lose himself int he desires people have in the day, in the agonies and the desperation in people’s wishes as the holidays draw near. hyunshik’s laugh is something simple, something understanding even if he doesn’t know the full story. he lets taeyang’s hand hold his, squeeze it and use it to ground him as he always does. hyunshik’s thumb still brushes over his knuckles, his other running through the younger’s hair, no fruther questions asked. 

‘you realize i have to go back to work yes?’ “mhm, stop playing with my hair then.” ‘stop looking cute when i play with your hair.’

taeyang’s eyes do open then, only because he’s able to draw himself out yet another daydream that calls towards him. he’s used to those words as well, being called cute because they’re calling him an airhead, being called adorable because they think he’s just unaware and naive. he’s used to the connotations that come with always seeming faraway, as hyunshik had said. what he’s realized is that they often exist separately, he can be simply be him, him separate from the tolls his power take on him and that is also a him that hyunshik likes and enjoys being around. that’s a reminder that keeps him grounded more than anything.

there’s a pause, hyunshik regarding the cafe and any signs from his co-workers that they might need him. 

“people dream a lot during the holidays. they’re tired, they wish for other circumstances, they work harder for different circumstances. it’s exhausting.” he hears a hum and maybe he’s cheating because he thinks hyunshik’s attention is only halfway on him. he knows the truth that hyunshik’s attention always tends to be hyper-focused on both him and everything around him. it’s in fact how they manage to mesh so well. “makes it hard to focus.” he’s also not speaking too loud, most of the words mumbled into his sleeve. he doesn’t want to be heard but he also wants to yell it.

‘you are here to see me right?’ “who else would i be here to see?” there’s a glint in hyunshik’s eyes when taeyang does look up to speak. sometimes taeyang thinks hyunshik knows more than he should have to explain.  ‘exactly. so just focus on me.’

hyunshik shrugs at that, makes no denial and taeyang’s cheeks turn red for the first time in a  while. 

‘you are taking up my time you know.’ and he’s back to groaning and leaning back down against the table. 

[loveurn]

fall.

@principalles

no one’s ever asked hanna her favorite season. that’s because everyone has their ideas and their assumptions of the kind of girl she is and the kind of things she likes. there’s her classmates, who see her as ever studious, full of ideas and creativity. she’s a little stand-offish in class, either because of her obvious prowess ( which is what her dad said ) or because she’s always treated everyday like a runway. but she seems like a winter child, a little ice-cold, bundled up and away from others. maybe a summer child, a little wild and with the latest trends, the brightest colors and the most expensive taste. 

hanna, has always been an autumn child. every season has its colors and its differences but she’s always loved the change that autumn brings. she loves watching the leaves turn, right before they hit the ground. she always loves the differences in every turn, from greens to yellows, reds to oranges. she likes autumn because of how new it feels each time. she loves autumn because each year she feels like she hasn’t seen it all. as an aspiring designer fall always seems too easy but for her it’s always a new beginning and new inspiration.

she spends more time outside in autumn than she does in the summer. she spends it at different cafes, at different stores, more time in her fabrics and in her sketchbook than one would expect. few people know this but those who have gotten to know her often expect the switch in her personality when the season comes around the corner. this means: more texts, more requests to hang out, and now suddenly, more dates.

yes there are dates involved because now she has a boyfriend. now she’s experiencing other reasons to love autumn. like now, with minsoo ahead in line ordering their drinks while she waits outside the coffee shop. minsoo who she’d forgotten is remarkably observational and had commented about her hair before she could remember she’d changed it. who’d commented about the colors she’d thrown into her wardrobe, the tans and blues she’d gone for today. minsoo who instead of complaining about her dragging him to a fashion event had just said ‘we’ll make it a date’ and caused hanna to deliberate her outfit for two hours this morning. 

minsoo who’s silhouette is starting to make up all the memories she’ll have of this fall. and probably many more to come.

her hand finds his before the other finds her drink and she’s buzzing with excitement. ‘it’s not too late to say you don’t want to go.’ nerves yes, but there’s still excitement there. the drink warms her hand but his own hand warms her cheeks, widens her smile and has he stifling giggles as they’re preparing to walk towards the event. 

[loveurn]

‘you worry too much.’ “i don’t worry enough.”

he’s too goddamned old for this.

‘quarantining her isn’t going to help.’ “quarantining will keep her in one place.”

he’s over a hundred years old and having trouble with a fledgeling. babysitting and training her like she was a new puppy. soonhyung huffs out the last words, a sentence that leaves with an exhale of his chest and laughter from the figure beside him. the figure who’s been ignoring his complaints in favor of scrolling through his phone. 

‘for now.’

soonhyung is stressed, and his friend only finds amusement in it. his friend, his companion, occasional lover, occasional pain in his ass. the one time he needs comfort and all he gets is side remarks about what he needs to do and what he shouldn’t do. as if the man beside him who would very well hiss at teens was suddenly the expert on teenage girls. 

though - he’s got a point. he can only keep her locked in her studies for so long before she gets hay fever and breaks out, or she catches on and has even more resentment that he’s treating her like a baby. but she is, compared to warlocks like him, compared to fae like the one attached to the boy she’s crushing on, she’s a baby, fledgling would be too much of a compliment. and soonhyung wants to keep her as far away from things she doesn’t understand yet.

‘if you shelter her from it all she’ll just find out on her own.’ “she couldn’t -  i would know.” ‘t’s not like you have her on a tracker.’

soonhyung goes silent at that, and his friend shifts to finally look at him, eyes narrowed and even. ‘jesus you don’t have a tracker on her do you?!’

“no, just, just an energy indicator, for when her power spikes and i can head to her location if need be. look - you didn’t meet that fae, you didn’t see the obsession.” ‘i don’t need to see it to know they’re dangerous soonie, i’m saying this is one of those teaching moment and not a sheltering moment. you know meixi’s friends, she’ll find out regardless. if it’s not this woman and this situation, it’s another, maybe worse. you want her prepared don’t you?’

he does. it irks him too that this man’s able to read him so well at this point, or that he’s getting such good advice from someone whose breakfast consists of black coffee and maybe fruit snacks.

‘stop talking shit about me in your head.’ “fuck you.” he’d forgotten he’s not the only magic user in the room. ‘i wish you would, we’ve been talking about children all day.’

soonhyung effectively turns red at that. this man has an uncanny habit from making him feel younger than he is, perhaps that’s why he’s still around.

‘can you just - stop for five minutes and breathe. she’s safe right now right? so stop worrying about what hasn’t happened and come here.’ the come here is coupled by the sound of a laptop closing and moving to the nightstand. soonhyung huffs, eyes still trained on the ceiling of their bedroom, but he indulges, if only for his peace of mind.

he’ll worry later. he’ll check on her right after actually but for right now she’s safe, and he needs to relax.

[loveurn]

principalles​:

“i’m certain you will be expected more than i will be.” joy replied, albeit a tad softer than she thought the words would have left her.

it was hard to concentrate on what she wanted to say, or how she should say it when he’d not only managed to get his hand on her back. but to leave a kiss on the back of her hand that had her pursing her mouth as she took in the things her body was telling her. all of them unfamiliar but known now, joy had learned to understand them with time. where she;d lacked in experience and she’d lacked quite a lot, there was no shame felt in it, but when one did not know of anything they simply had to learn.

some of those lessons had been given gracefully–as graceful as possible–by hyungwon. the others, she’d had to rely on intuition to understand. she would have appreciated a bit of a warning, but hyungwon had assured her no matter how many times she would have been warned, it would still have felt like she knew nothing of what bo was making her feel like. not until he brought forth those feelings. she supposed, he understood what he was saying since he did have the experience and andrei had now been there for long enough to mean that he was probably to hyungwon, what bo was to joy.

so who was bo to joy?

she had the answer right at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it right as her heart missed a beat. the hand that was still free found itself holding onto his forearm and joy let herself near in further, peering up with a bravery she hadn’t felt in awhile. this demanded courage, great, great courage. or she was just being silly in her own mind. either way.

“well, whatever it is that you need to do, i won’t be holding you back. especially if it has the promise of lingering until tomorrow night.”

was such a thing possible? joy too was curious to know.

bo smiles. it’s nothing different from the smiles she gets from him. for different reasons, at different intervals and realizations. meaning at different times for different thoughts, admirations going through his head. because she says things like that and he’s sure she doesn’t know how much she’s adored, admired, and how much she’d swept him off his feet. how easily she’s left him a bit of a mess, even if it shows in mind only. stutters of thoughts and desires and when and where they can take form and take hold of the time they have, or the situations they’re in.

like now. now when bo knows exactly what he’d like to do, knows what he’s been comfortable doing up until now and what he’s thought about. like now when he thinks the air is charged a little differently. joy blushes, as he’s often seen her do, in the way that he would want to press a kiss or two to her cheek, and if not there’s a simple brush of his hand to feel how warm and soft the skin is to touch, to marvel at how he’s done that and how it means enough. how it means something that’s led them to this.

little things, little steps, leading and now led to something as big as the ball tomorrow. 

there’d always been a hint of hesitation and a very clear level of carefulness when it came to this, bo always reminding himself not to push too much. bo always reminding himself that the lucky one is not the princess for getting chosen but the prince for getting the yes. among all that hesitation and the fear there are moments that break through it, moments that show him he has small victories that he’s managed to win the heart he’s pursued so fervently. the hand that’d made it’s way to her back is moving forward again, his moves spurred by her words, by the sureness in her eyes. 

by the promise of not moving back and the very real idea that it’s happening. because it is. he’s leaning forward at that, his hand coming to rest on her cheek and to guide her lips the short distance to meet his own. he’s not unashamed to admit he’d pushed a little closer to meet her and to seal the quicker than intended. but it’s needed and it’s so - so worth it. for the heat, for the gentle press of her bod the closer she gets, to the way her lips are as he’d imagined.

as soft, as gentle, as forgiving of the wait just to feel this. to indulge in this. and for that wait, for all the emotions that have harbored in shallow waters, he lets himself press the kiss for as long as fervent as she’ll allow. 

[loveurn]

principalles​:

an intervention? joy’s eyebrow arched as she held on the edge of the window, the words bringing forth a smile. he had a strange way with words sometimes, a little humorous, sometimes quite tender. it had a way of making her realize she could miss him and she did miss him. joy wasn’t sure what that feeling was supposed to feel like when it was towards anyone other than her father, because he’d been the only one who’d brought forth the feeling of homesickness before. but she was certain the way things settled in her bones and made her feel more relaxed, more like the joy she knew herself to be, that meant that he’d taken a part of her with him and it was now finding its way back home.

right where it might just belong.

his words slid themselves alongside these thoughts and brought forth a rush of a flush to her cheeks. there was no use hiding the evidence now, was there? she couldn’t even look away from him as he spoke and inched closer, close enough that his hand reaching out only needed her to extend hers in return to find their place in his. joy did so without hesitation, leaning away from the support she didn’t need when bo’s hands were holding onto hers, or onto her. this gravity was quite the tricky thing to have a complete grasp on.

she held onto his hand to step forward, close enough that she had to keep her chin up to find his eyes. joy was certain there was a pull somewhere, consciously working against her, she’d felt it countless times before and tonight, it felt like it was going to win over her. it felt like she might just let it have its way.

“i could say the same of you.” his presence had been just as scarce was what she meant, but she hadn’t felt it like she was feeling it now. which was strange. one had to miss when there was absence right? not when you finally had the person right here with you. or maybe both were just as arguably possible. joy was definitely feeling it more with him so close.

“but now that you’ve managed to steal me back, what do you plan to do?”

her hand in his is close enough to feel like the final piece, the only piece to the urges he’s had all day. just to see, hold, or even talk to her if they’d allow it. no one was really stopping him and maybe a part of him knew that delaying it would make it even the more sweeter tomorrow, but it still had a way of getting to him. not like an itch that needs to be scratched, but just an empty ache, a hollowness that knows itself once it’s been found and satisfied. 

something satisfied just by the feel of her hand in his and her gaze when it meets his own. the way he squeezes as she smiles, tugs her close as she talks, even closer as he starts to step. as every motion becomes necessary, involuntary and familiar, he knows for sure the ache isn’t fully satisfied but it’s fully realized. all he wishes to do, to experience with her, something he’s only reminded of when he’s got her with him and the only priority int he room is to keep the sun up even when it’s already set. in her smile and her laughter. in the way she glows just by being her. 

“i would steal you again and away if people didn’t expect you tomorrow.”

bo’s damn lucky and he reminds himself of that every time. every time he finds himself in a position like this. with the ability to lift her the back of her hand to his lips and to know that is okay even when it lingers there for a few moments. even as he squeezes it again to bring himself to earth. to this empty room they’ve occupied. empty and suddenly small as ever. to the sight of her and reminding himself that he must move his eyes, that the can’t just travel across skin, silk and smooth as the fabric that covers it. the feel of her hands as his thumb runs across the top, the reminder that his other is holding steady along her back.

the thought, of other things smooth and as sweet as everything joy is. he doesn’t move, not yet, and in all he’s endured for the moment he lets his eyes fall on her lips first, before they meet her eyes. 

“since people do expect you - whatever i do should hold me until tomorrow night. right?”

[loveurn]

principalles​:

joy was most likely living what many would call a fairy tale, they would also most likely mock her for knowing she never believed in such things. she still didn’t. this was far from a fairy tale. at first, she’d been too preoccupied with where her foot was slipping, trying to grip the rails of her life and not let herself, or more precisely–the prince of this island–sweep off her feet. there was no other way to describe this lack of gravity under her whenever she caught herself thinking of her current predicament. as hard as she’d tried, joy had not been able to hold tight on the railings and she was now sitting atop a cloud, without any idea as to when it would melt and drop her like the myriads of rain drops that had already graced this earth.

that was not the most frightening part of it all though. the most frightening part was how easily she was adapting to the ever changing cloud and how sure she was that to fall would not land her on her feet still. that was all the fault of one persistent prince. joy should have read all those fairy tales, they might have served as a good warning against his royal charms. but that was not necessarily what had landed her here, in this room, with tomorrow looming like a promise. the same kind of promise she’d been subtly robbing him off now and then. she had to still act like she had her feet on the ground! so to evade the last sealing touch was only fair in this tender conquest.

she had to admit, she did enjoy herself now and then. learning of new desserts, secretly so, from the chef of the palace. plus, getting to sit in a study she was sure not many had had the chance to, of course it’d been a little dreamy. joy had taken to studying the language of this kingdom because as everything else, it seemed to flow easily on her tongue. it was not easy to speak. but the desire came easily. most likely that it came from knowing it made her even closer to the prince of this kingdom. the words would come to her now and then and she would focus, trying to recant them from memories rather than peeking in the notes she’d made during her lessons.

It was easier said than done. but some would come and she would whisper them with pride, alone as she thought she was. maybe a smile was lighting up her features, a smile that was quickly covered with her hand as she heard his voice. the bit of a trance she’d been in had her registering it farther than he was, because bo was right there peeking in through the door and asking if he could come in. that had been his question, right? that was silly of him to even ask! this was his kingdom, his palace, god, and tomorrow she would officially be his fiancee?!

that made even less sense! 

tilting her head after the initial embarrassment at being caught studying washed off, she shook her head quickly, not moving an inch from where she was leaning against the window. the sun was warm against her back as it was settling, and she was enjoying how comforting it felt.

“not at all, please come in.”

joy was certain bo had had one busy day though, hers had been at least. so she couldn’t help but ask as she waited for him to make her way to her, to be sure that he would do so surprised her a little.

“is this a scheduled interruption?”

“this is more of an intervention.”

it hadn’t even been that long, he was sure. it hadn’t been but a few days, but a mere 72 hours or more since he’d seen here. maybe more than that, maybe less than that but it hadn’t been that long. he’d lasted longer, when she’d had to go home. when he’d had to go on a diplomatic trip, when he’d had lessons and council meetings for days on end and there was simply no time. bo had gone longer intervals without seeing joy but it hadn’t felt like this. like such a breath of fresh air, maybe even a sigh of relief.

“i’d been apart from you for too long.”

it had everything to do with tomorrow, everything to do with the reality of what tomorrow would mean for her, for them. it meant the world for him to come here and see her, for her to not have run away from the first instance of who he was - or even when he explained what tomorrow would mean. that dating is more like courting and announcing it is more like an engagement. there was fear attached to that, and despite the confidence that he brings himself to show, the confidence from the first decision to introduce her to his parents, there was the reality of his status and how overwhelming it could be.

yet here she is, hours later, practicing as if she doesn’t have it down. teaching herself as if anyone would say anything or blink an eye if she got a step wrong or a phrase sounded strange. rather than it being that she was the prince to be’s fiancee, there was so much charm and adoration in everything joy did, she could get away with it. he wouldn’t fault her if he showed up and heard she’d decided that it was indeed too much. 

but she hadn’t - and she’s here - and bo is beside himself with how bad he’s needed to see her. how bad he’s wanted to see her. if he could go back in time, he wouldn’t be able to make himself wait this long again. he’s stepping closer with that same smile of hers as a resolve, and his own thoughts as reasoning. 

“everyone else has had you too much these days.” his hand if out, the question the same as the one he’d posed at the door, this time with no words and just the gesture, and his own gaze. one that hasn’t had the heart to stop observing her, head to toe, for all that she is - and even more for who she’s going to be.

[loveurn]

ateezfilm​:

WOOYOUNG ☆ 1ST LOOK

[loveurn]

@principalles

balls on the island were a big thing. they weren’t common, though festivals and other forms of celebration were more common in place of them. the kingdom’s capital located by piers and the sea made it easy to haul fresh fish to the town center and grill and dance into the night. balls were more formal events, celebrating engagements, coming of events or welcoming and honoring visitors or the royalty. 

bo’s dad is a man of his people, so the balls were never really exclusive unless they had to be. balls were open to all who would and could attend and because of the frequency of late night festivals it was no sting to someone’s heart if they couldn’t make it. one would always find the king and queen either from the cover of their balcony or from the corners of a rooftop watching over and enjoying in closed company.

this ball in particular was open to all and important for one. this ball wasn’t exactly an engagement but it meant a lot and it shows from the amount of times he’s seen his mother in her chambers or scampering back and forth from the town to the palace, carrying troves of fabric and with advisors and planners on her heels.

there’s only two other balls of a higher caliber that she’d work this hard for - and that’s an engagement or an appointment. tomorrow night, bo would be formally announcing to the kingdom that his courting of joy was with intentions for her to be his and by proxy for the kingdom to one day be hers. the ball tomorrow was the official announcement that he has made a decision, no more suitors, no more bachelor and diplomatic visits and no marriages for alliances. it was one thing for the townspeople to gossip and tease him but it was another thing for him to show her off in front of family, friends and citizens alike. 

he’s told her, explained how he world around her would change by the pseudo sort of title she’d be given and despite all the preparation and the idea to surprise him tomorrow night with the outfit his mother’s put work in - he hasn’t seen her in a few days and he’s accepted the consequences of a small scolding to sneak a conversation. or a peek. three days of preparation is way too long to not see her, especially with the constant she’s become in her daily life. despite his insistence he knows she’d rather learn lessons from those offering in the palace, so he knows even when she should be relaxing for the gala she’s still making sure her form is perfect. that’s how bo knows where to find her. that and if he enters the palace he just has to follow the sound of the music and once he’s closer the sound of her speaking to herself.

there’s a swell of pride in his chest when he hears her whispering words in his language to herself. she’s in one of the older rooms that he used to take the same lessons in when it was required and through the light peeking from old blinds, she’s a vision he’s missed for days. 

“mind if i cut in?”

[loveurn]

principalles​:

TW: I love you.

@loveurn

This would be her last academic year, she could feel in the air, something was going to shift and she was going to have to catch on fast to the current of the wind. Jamie had found a good balance through many things though, Sam had come in as a surprise, a big one. One that was so unexpected that she still had to wonder how she managed to let him settle as if he’d always been planned, when he had not! None of this, his clothes filling in half of her closet, his shoes being left at her front door. A double of her key, and double for his apartment for her hanging right on the wall of said entrance door. 

Jamie had been wondering if this was not an ominous sign of just how permanent his presence was becoming, further than that, if these keys were once going to lead to only one living room, one bedroom and one kitchen. Then she’d catch herself tilting her head and wondering why she was even wondering if this was an ominous sign at all. This was more so of a certain future. 

When did it become like that? The same way and at the same time as everything else had always become certain with Sam; without her even knowing. She’d been unwrapping all of these surprise boxes, expecting them to be empty, or perhaps just holding something predictable, for the most part things had felt like that for the longest. But whenever it came to the ones Sam brought forth, with his hands sometimes still wearing the lingering scent of dried paint as they would find purchase wherever they could. Her face, her hair, behind her ears–twisting her lobes, the back of her neck, her shoulders, her fingers–sliding right through them momentarily, although the squeeze he would give would be tight enough to have her immediately leaning in to contribute herself with her own lips sealing a good morning or good night or a simple hello. 

The way she loved how it made him sigh in her mouth right before he’d open up for a soft kiss, a tender one that’d have his hands finding her waist, the small of her back and suddenly gravity was a hard concept for her feet to grasp onto. Sometimes, it felt like his sigh was one that was still surprised at the idea that he could do this, or that she wanted him here with her, or that they were together and there wasn’t anything else existing between them. 

Jamie had felt many times taken aback, bewildered by how things had evolved, but one thing had always shocked her more than anything else; she’d never felt like this wasn’t meant to be or that it’d ever up and leave her. Was it because she’d trusted him from the beginning? No, far from it. The beginnings had had its bouts of doubts because she hadn’t known then, truly, what she’d even been unwrapping so slowly but surely. It was because of something else, that’d always sat where he’d managed to unfurl so many vibrant butterflies’ wings. As they flew and brushed past her in a way that made her insides unrelentlessly churn with the ticklish sensation that this would be it, this was it, he was it. Sam was it. 

She was half way through her semester, but this morning, Sam was halfway into making her get to her morning class too late to apologize and have it be forgiven by her professor. Jamie had to go, she had to make him let go, she had to–she managed to pull back just enough for their foreheads to stay touching. It felt like if she took a step back and put some air between them, too much of it, she’d lose her footing and she’d start this morning with twinges of regret dancing in her stomach. Jamie was not particularly fond of those side effects when it came to saying goodbye to him. 

It didn’t matter that they’d spent the whole week glued, or the whole day, or the night before. That her sheets still had the scents of them wrapped in it, her pillows would wear the touch of his shampoo for days and days until laundry day would come knocking. But it would take a mere 24 hours for it to again be drenched in his scent. Jamie might or might not make him stay over after laundry days because she hated the smell of the detergent that would wash away all traces of him from her pillows. 

Truth be told, she hated anything that took him away and made it obvious that she would miss him, that she missed him even when he was here. She hated him for being a part of her that she never wanted to be apart from. More than anything, she loved, loved that she could taste the bitterness of those feelings and feel them melt into nothing else but a sweet tangible touch of; Sam will never leave her. 

“I’ll miss you.” Jamie finally breathed with relief, accepting the next kiss he silenced her with, a quiet sigh pressed against his mouth before she moved back again. She smiled when he groaned and leaned back in, she let him kiss her again, because why not. 

“Hey, did you hear me?” She asked after the third time his lips tried to linger. 

“Hm?” 

Something tender let itself be known as she opened her eyes to take in the sight of him so focus on nothing else but chasing her lips that it bubbled a giggle from her she quickly quieted down by being the one to kiss him instead. 

“I have to go,” 

Sam’s hands knew that, they weren’t letting go, because they knew that. 

“But have I told you today,” Jamie waited, patiently, her arms sliding along his shoulders and her nose bumping into his. She avoided the next lunge he made for her lips, then the next, and the next, until he blinked open one eye, his eyebrow arching along with the action. Jamie wanted to go, well no, she had to go, so she had to want to go, right? It made complete sense to not incite more resistance from him, especially not when he was still half asleep and thinking he was owed all of her time. He was, but he didn’t need to know that. But Jamie also wasn’t sure of how badly she wanted to not be chastised for being late when he was looking so wanting, wanting her, and what Sam wanted seemed to always prevail over everything else. 

This was unfair, but it was right. 

“What is it?” His voice made her blink. So much for evading his kisses, now she was getting lost in his eyes, great, the cheesiest things she’d ever done. One of them at least. 

“I love you.” 

That solidified one thing at least; she could forget making it on time to class this morning. 

[loveurn]

hehe. a continuation. @principalles

1. 

with bo it’s the subtlest of things, the sweetest of things. it’s a gentle brush out of respect for who he is and who she will soon be. it’s nothing outwardly spoken but it’s something so treasured and so viewed that it means more to the people around them when they see it.

it’ll be on the back of her hand, the softest of touches, from the rub of his thumb to the brush of his lips before uttering a good morning, or asking for another impromptu dance. its paired with a hello gorgeous in his language or hers, and a smile for the way her cheeks apple upon contact and grow redder with the more he just has to plant afterward. 

it’ll be on the side of her cheek, another good morning coming along but the scenery is always a corridor or the study rooms, always early and in the midst of daily activities. their rooms are far apart for the nature of what to become of them and traditions, but he manages to sneak by to whisper a hello and to drop by a flower or two.

or three.

bo’s mornings start earlier than joy’s, and he can’t seem to get by them without seeing her face and if she’s up early to stroll with his mother, he can’t say he’s bothered about details why. 

it’s for courtesy, it’s for image, but it’s also because of the way he sees her. not as delicate but treasured, adored, something to cherish and to be grateful for. it’s the tenderness in which bo delivers the most subtle of kisses, that when they do reach her lips, when they’re secluded and a little giddy, nothing can quite sum up the feeling. 

that’s why, try as he might he’s holding her a little closer, breathing her in a little better for how quick the moment must be and how quick she must go. for how long he can hold onto the feeling, of fingers in his shirt and an eagerness returned in the places they can have to themselves.

2. 

with hyuncheol it’s never a dull moment. 

it might come with petnames, with a babe in the form of whines from behind jinsoo’s head. with a honey, or a sweetheart for the proverbial tick mark to appear on her temple before she turns around ready to hurl the nearest book at his head.

it never makes it that far because he catches her there, hold her there with a smile only after he’s gotten one or two in. because try as she might, jinsoo can never hide the way the kisses manage to catch her off guard and hyuncheol cannot ignore the triumph he gets whenever she visibly stumbles over words, her arms stutter mid-throw and he can get a good few in before she’s raging after him.

or when he’s calling her over, something low and mischievous and when she’s hunched over to ask what he needs help with - he’s stealing another. and another. and another. 

with hyuncheol sometimes he says it and sometimes he just does it. sometimes it’s for him because he needs it, misses it and craves it and sometimes its for her. sometimes its for the little moments of tension he picks up on but doesn’t say anything about. for all that’s developed between them there’s still things they might hold onto, both a little too stubborn to bother the other, but both homing beacons for the other’s stress.

where jinsoo might come over and sit herself in his lap, he’ll grab her hand and drag her for a ride on the bike. he’ll assign no meanings to the way her hands curl in his shirt or her face digs into the back of his jacket. 

but for hyuncheol, these kisses are reminders of freedom so he takes as many as he can get. because there’s comfort in knowing he can and there’s trust in knowing he can. 

3. 

with yongguk, it’s sweet. it’s always something sweet.

chungha’s often warned him about going out of his way to be this good to her, but it’s something he can’t help. as his sphere’s grown smaller and smaller over the years, the span of his affection has grown for those around him.

for his sister, his brother, ex-members now brothers as well.

and her. 

so it’s usually over a dinner, or on the way home from a dinner, hand in hers, sometimes it’s over the head of a bouquet of flowers, and sometimes behind the clasp of a necklace. it’s always gentle, it’s always something that leaves her chasing and him with a huge smile and fondness that’s visible in every exhale as he laughs, as he holds her close.

there’s an intensity to it, as there often is with anything he does carefully. it makes the moments flow like molasses but sweet like it should be never-ending and there’s no other way for it to be. it’s meant for the moments they can’t see each other and meant to make the moments they do all the more worth it. 

it’s meant to keep some normality to this, to dating, to loving and to being allowed to, in gentle ways, in ways that remind the person that’s what they are.

loved.

enjoyed.

cherished.

yongguk makes sure each kiss says such.

4. 

with taeyang. it’s subtle. so subtle that he’s often lost as to how hyunshik picks up on the cues. but hyunshik does and he does it in a way that makes it sudden for everyone else, but right on time for the person it’s intended for.

for the one who matters the most. 

with taeyang it’s always something a little grounding, a little sought out without him knowing. 

sought out when his elbow starts to slide on coffee tables and his eyes remain unfocused but zeroed in on his boyfriend. when the coffee isn’t helping and he’s just waiting for them to walk home. when hyunshik slips over, slips a kiss in between seconds that taeyang can only smile into and believe as a dream.

until hyunshik’s co-working are ooh-ing and ahh-ing over it and he’s burying his head in his arms.

it’s sought out when they’re walking, hand in hand and taeyang’s eyes are barely open and the summer heat makes him want to crawl into a blanket rather than soak in a pool. when it makes him want to curl into his boyfriend like a cat and hyunshik reminds them they have tasks, grocery shopping and what-not. taeyang who nods through it, eyes barely open and hyunshik who kisses him because he can, a fondness taeyang can’t see but he can almost feel against his lips. 

it’s especially sought-out in the mornings, a coffee mug ready to slip from his fingers and hyunshik asking what they should have for breakfast. hyunshik’s taking to doing the talking when taeyang is too tired to function, or when he’s not quite all there yet and he prefers to listen to coffee beans grind and his boyfriend’s voice, rough in the morning to snap him awake. taeyang follows the voice, his head moving as hyunshik moves about the kitchen, but his eyes don’t open and when hyunshik asks if he’s listening: he smiles.

it’s the smile that seems to say it because seconds later the mug is out his hands, there’s kisses again and again until he feels the touch of fabric on his feet and then on his legs. then he’s surrounded and curling into hyunshik like they’d never left the bed in the first place.

[loveurn]

@principalles // my favorite bad boy and poetry student

there’s nothing inherently special about it. as most artists come to realize, they’ll let other people assign their ideas and their thoughts to their pieces. the same can be said for tattoos, they don’t always need meanings, they don’t always have occasions. they’re just spurs of the moment, needs, urges, little places to feel and sometimes an itch to scratch. 

but jamie, jamie’s somehow found a way to give new and better meaning to the most insignificant of things. so when she’s perched on his lap, legs crossed and more interested in him than the movie they’d been watching - he wants to indulge her. he has to. 

it���s become something of a game, one that started when she’d been leaning against him at first, her hand in his and she’d asked about the words wrapped around his wrist. ‘do what you love, love what you do’. sam had had a sour pop in his mouth when she’d traced a thumb over the ink and raised it up with the question in the air. 

“that’s a reminder to keep doing art when others have shit to say.”

he’d said it simply, the relaxation of the day finally getting to him and causing his words to slip out slow and sweet. it’s how he wants anytime with jamie to go by and it’s how he lets himself truly relax. head thrown back, the sounds of the tv moving to the background as her own questions come to the forefront. sam feels a little drunk like this - whenever her fingers start to trace and her voice starts to bleed through. 

as the memory comes back to mind, so does the lazy smile as he answers her.

‘did it hurt?’

“no more than the others.”

it was as she asked that she’d changed her position then, from facing the television to facing him, to sitting up and looking focused on this. 

summer’s are hot and sam will always prefer her pressed this close and compromise by wearing a tank top, or an open button up. he’s recently got an addition to his chest piece so while it heals he’s got nothing to hide, nothing to cover. jamie’s gotten used to it but there’s always a slight flush to her face when she remembers, one that brings a smile to his lips and a kiss to hers if he can manage.

he doesn’t do it this time because he watches her eyes wander, watches the questions and the fascination build up in her eyes. he watches the heat die down from her cheeks to her neck and her hands moving to break her out her stupor. her fingers are feather-light barely padding across his skin, following the lines of every tattoo she sees and questions with her eyes before she can get the words out. sam lets her, watches her, dares not to move if only to squeeze his thumbs into her hips to hold her steady.

‘sammie.’ “hm?”

she outlines one in particular, going around his right shoulder and a little into his chest, it’s dragon scales that wrap halfway down his arm and his undearm. there’s the question in her eyes as her fingers linger.

“video game character i played had it. my buddy was getting his certification so i let him do it.”

she keeps moving and he keeps answering. the small ones, tinier designs that he just fit where he could, some of things he likes, some of things he dreamed of. he opens up more of his days before moving here the more she moves across his skin. from art exhibits he’s frequented, to favorite animals, mythical creatures and even cartoon characters, sam’s arms are little pieces of him that he doesn’t think about until now. 

‘this one?’

her fingers trace lightly, across the beginning of his chest piece and up the side of his neck where it begins. it’s his favorite one and she touches it so gingerly he has to take a second to breathe and focus to answer.

“my mom’s favorite flower - and her birthday.” her lips part into an ‘oh’ quiet fascination still swimming in her eyes, fingers still reaching, searching as they slip behind his ear and try to trace where she knows the other tattoo is. sam’s eyes close shut on reflex, jamie’s fingers a soft and gentle reminder of all she is to him and how easily she has him in her grasp, how easily he wants to lean into the touch and just fall into the couch. ‘behind it?’ “the sun and the moon together - to remind me to relax.” he has to clear his throat a bit, ground himself as he tries to answer. focus less on the heat that follows her fingertips, the tingles through his skin that he can still map from where it started to where she. the smell of her, the jasmine perfume, the feel of her, weighted and soft and something to curl into, to pull to and fall into.

jamie’s hands still play around, curiosity in every touch, like she’s trying to find every line, every stroke that made each piece what it is. her hands flit behind his ears, behind his neck and sam - breathes through it all. 

“jay.” ‘hm?’

she sits back at that, maybe from the sound in his voice, the obvious strain, but her fingers slide forward just as easily as she moves and he exhales again.

“gettin’ kinda hard to focus.” ‘oh - does it make you sleepy?’

quite the opposite.

she sounds disappointed, almost like there’s more she wants to learn and more she wants to ask, but sam doesn’t know how many more questions he can answer. and he breathes out a laugh at the sound of her voice and fixes her with a stare, a stare whose meaning she misses because her eyes land on another, on the side of his ribcage.

‘is this new!’ there’s so much excitement, he has to smile and regard which one she’s referring to. it’s jasmine flowers up the side of his chest, under his armpit and wrapping close to his pec muscles. there are words along it and a date along the stems. she focuses on it longer and sam watches the words repeat softly on her lips. ’are those - that’s one of my poems.’

“that’s the day i went to your open mic.” ‘when you asked if i minded someone getting a tattoo of my poetry...’ “yeah, i had joon do it for me.”

her thumb graces over the words, still covered in second skin for healing and the sensitivity is enough to push him over the edge.

‘sorry - does it still hurt? what’s it feel like?’ there’s a tug of her teeth against her lips at that, and sam uses that second, that split second to breathe out a final resolve before he’s pulling her close, stories and memories be damned. lips on hers and laughter at how sudden it is. 

“i’ll show you.”

sam’s fond, drunk on it and so in love that he lets every memory, every sensation that’s still flowing in his veins start to multiply on her. for every breath her couldn’t get out, any sound just to let her continue asking, learning, he hears it with every nip, every kiss and every bite. just as her fingers did, her travels about, taking in the giggles and the gasps and the wiggles of jamie closer, further, gentle, animated. he takes it all in until he thinks he’s sated and then he takes some more. 

over and over until pink isn’t the only color blooming on her skin. 

later, when she’s flushed and pressed against him again, when the television is background noise again and sam’s arms are wrapped around her, he gets the chance to answer.

“feeling sleepy?” ‘shut up.’ “it felt like that.”

[loveurn]

@principalles /  a continuation of the ships and kisses, but more importantly, a minna study. 

it’s new to her.

it’s new for them.

so it’s not something she knows how to approach, hanna ever the affectionate person with jamie finds herself a mixture of shy, giddy and impatient. shy to ask for it, giddy to approach it and impatient to get it. hanna, who sometimes sputters when her dad asks for a cheek kiss before running off to class, hanna who might groan or even the hanna who gives him all the hugs and kisses a father could hope for. hanna, who is always attached to jamie’s side in some way, who’d opened up to the affection when she’d realized how well it was received and easily it was given.

hanna who toys with affection based on the people around her, finds herself struggling how to figure out where it fits with minsoo, and how she can make it fit. there’s no denying she likes it and there’s no denying that these days she’s craving it more and more.

that’s why it comes in many forms right now. 

for hanna it might come as a sudden thing, in minsoo following her for inspiration for her newest projects, in him not saying much other than a nod from his head and a glance to her hand that hovers by his. sometimes he smiles knowingly and sometimes just as confused as she is about approaching it, he’s as confused about when he’s asking without asking. but, if her hand is there he’ll hold it, and if she dances around the topic he’ll pull it out.

it’ll go like:

‘what’s wrong?’ “nothing.”

there’s a blink after that, a few seconds and she’ll feel her teeth dig into her lip. she’ll whisper it first, typically when he’s close enough to hear and not sitting across the table from her.

“c’mere....” it’ll take him a few seconds to hear her but he’ll appease her. the first few times he’d lean over, confusion written on his face, but everything was so new to them that he’d taken to learning everything day by day with her. it’s when he leans close, whether across a table, or lending his ear down to her, she’ll either go for it, or whisper it again. 

if he leans close enough hanna will go for it. by this method it’ll just reach his cheek. but with this method he’s usually laughing, a quick chuckle when she moves away as quickly as she came. minsoo placates her then, takes the hint and gives her two more for measure, usually on her cheek and if there’s a book in her hand, one of her lips behind the pages.

if he doesn’t lean close enough and she whispers it again he’ll just stare. stare out of amusement on his part and torture for her. enough trials of this and minsoo has picked up on the hints, and hanna being shy is something new for the both of them, she’s sure he’s milking it for what it’s worth. and she’s sure her face betrays her when she tries her best not to look so flustered. still - after a few seconds he’ll lean forward and do it himself and all the stress of the moment breathes out her shoulders and melts.

she’s not sure where it comes from, the shyness, or how he knows hiding her behind his books, or the cover of her tablet does the trick but he does. 

and hanna takes all that she can in those moments. she sticks closer, pushes forward when she wants more, slips her hands to whatever part of him she can hold to keep him close and the occasional giggle when little sounds slip out that makes him smile between the kisses.

and yeah, there are a lot of kisses. they’re always tasting of coffee, chai, something warm and sweet, and gentle on her lips. minsoo’s more charming than he realizes.

so they navigate how they usually are, around this new development. around minsoo just being there, being a calming presence, around how his calm helps him to read when she’s not, and how her bouts of energy sometimes ignite the same in him. they bounce off each other, they balance each other and even new things like this are starting to fit as they learn about each other.

bonus.

there are times when the roles switch. it’s when she’s in her comfort zone, seated on one of her dad’s favorite cars, hours after a race, and hours after everyone’s gone home. there are times when minsoo might have the hint of shyness blooming on his cheek and hanna is all smiles and all open arms and bold words.

she’ll sit on the trunk of the car, night starting to creep in and all her adrenaline showing in the kick of her legs and the arms that call out to him as he wanders around. 

‘hanna.’

the fields are always empty after a race, her father’s kept her bodyguards quite the distance ( and they’ve sworn not to say anything either way ) but there’s something about how free she gets that catch him off-guard, or maybe it’s about how vulnerable she is when she truly feels free in spaces like this. 

minsoo likes to tuck their kisses in quiet moment for them and hanna likes to take all the chaos of her life and find the pockets to make it fit.

like now. 

“c’mere.” it’s said with more enthusiasm, with little wiggles of her fingers and the thrum of the car engine under her thighs. he always comes, doesn’t leave her for more than a few seconds of asking, and fits right between where her legs kick against the trunk. when he gets there she doesn’t ask, she doesn’t say much, just holds the edges of his shirt and gives him a look, a smile that he reads anywhere and she’s found out might be her secret weapon. 

kisses like this have hands scavenging through loose shirts, hands resting on her thighs and even under her chin. they always taste a little electric, maybe with the wind that’s slipping through each time their mouths open, or the few energy drinks she’s kept along to keep herself up for the races. kisses like this have parts of him and her mixing along for exactly how long they last and how she’ll ask for more with tugs and laughs.

[loveurn]

@principalles​

normally, sooyoung minds her business.

scratch that, usually sooyoung minds her business. she keeps away from office gossip, stays out the sights of the interns who flirt too much, the girls on the prowl for a victim, the people who always get caught in the break room. she keeps her distance because she can get distracted fairly easily, and when she’s resigned to a task she likes to finish it.

since she’s almost always given a task of some sort at the company, it’s not hard for her to stay focused. she misses out on juicy gossip of course but it’s not too big a deal. the scraps of the gossip get to her sooner or later and even if she’s late on the news, sometimes it’s just as sweet to be in the loop at some point.

even if it’s in the end and it’s a small chuckle or a gasp.

a ‘hyerim is dating who?’, ‘who’s the new intern’ or ‘whose on a warpath today’. things like that. but she always makes sure that she stays out of it, and if she’s apart of it, it doesn’t last long. there’s never much to say about her because she’s really always working, or smiling and avoiding any type of misconceptions.

it’s been - significantly harder since everything changed on that retreat with dylan way back when - but she manages to keep herself far away from his floor in order to keep her eyes from giving her away. truth of the matter is, dylan’s proven he could care less who was around if he wanted to show his affections - he would.

still, the occasional word passes on how he’s nicer to her than others, how he often brings up her propositions when her director mentions them, and he’s one of the few higher ups to request her assistance. talk as they may - sooyoung knows her work ethic makes it easy to discredit rumors. 

all this is said to say - she has a reputation, one that’s very carefully crafted so that she has no trouble getting where she wants - especially if it’s a chair right opposite director cho. the thing is - in order to keep it crafted and clean, she has to have her moments. these aren’t slip-ups, nor are they simple things like midnight face masks or loaded fries after a long week. 

sooyoung is human, and sooyoung has steam to let out. 

that steam, gets burned to the max at a certain club at a hole in the wall in hongdae. far from the company but apparently not far enough from her colleagues. she frequents latin night, has been going since an old friend introduced her and she found she had a flair for the environment, the dance, the hustle, the let go and let loose without a care of the next morning. she’ll often play songs from curated playlists in order to get her through the day and remind herself that she’s going to the club that night.

thing is - she’s often checked to make sure none of her colleagues frequent this club, it’s closed off enough that it’s become something of a secret, but still classy enough that she won’t worry about who catches her for the next song.

she’s never had a concern - throwing her head around, feeling the frills of her skirt tickle her skin, sweat and alcohol alike clogging the air. she’s never worried about getting caught in this little patch of joy she’s found.

so imagine her surprise when she’s stumbling towards the bar, feet only sore from the amount of songs she’s done without stopping and not the alcohol. the bartender who’s come to know her hands her a glass immediately and sooyoung is downing it, the red one her lips starting to stain the rim. 

it’s been a hard week, and an even harder day, this was exactly what she needed, she’d even dressed up a bit to get into it. she’s got many more songs in her, many more steps before she needs to retire, and a late start to the next day so she’s feeling the adrenaline kick right back in.

before she can step back out, a couple things happen at once.

her watch pings, indicating a message to her phone. the bartender slides her a drink - knowing she doesn’t drink when she’s ready to dance, and points in a specific direction in the club. 

she’s used to getting drinks, used to declining and even now, more used to declining dances when she thinks they’re getting too friendly and there’s already someone reserved for that. she’s halfway into checking her watch, and looking for the culprit when her eyes read the text and then move on auto-pilot.

msg: look up.

the first that startles her, is that the message is rom dylan. the second thing that startles her is that - the direction she’s looking is the same direction the bartender had pointed in - all to confirm that he’s here. dylan is here - in the very club that she thought was too hidden away for her to run into anyone.

and of all people - he’s here.

and she’s looking like this. sweating like this and suddenly sooyoung is struck with the thought that he might’ve seen her dance like this.

‘yes i saw you dance.’ the proximity makes the words cut in through the club music and her thoughts and sooyoung nearly jumps in her heels. naturally, dylan is right behind her to keep her steady, his chuckle heavy and low against her skin as she steadies herself by the bar. 

“i said that out loud didn’t i----”

all the confidence the adrenaline gives her in times like this fades, replaced with the silly butterflies that fly through her chest each time he so much as opens his mouth to laugh. not even to speak - just to laugh and she’s a mess.

‘i didn’t know you could dance.’ “i didn’t know you knew this place.” ‘came for a business deal, they picked te place.’

dylan’s moved to take his place beside the counter and sooyoung thanks the heavens the bartender knows her usual order when she’s getting a little jittery. these were times well before dylan, when it was normal to have jitters about dancing with strangers, or even talking to one she found attractive at the bar. she lets her fingers play with the straw and her body take a breath before actually regarding dylan.

he looks great ( of course he looks great ) and she’s suddenly reminded of what she has on.

‘you look gorgeous.’

she feels like mush. it’s a good feeling no doubt - but it’s overwhelming still. the sooyoung he’s used to, is definitely not the one in short sun dresses, heels and red lipstick, shaking her hips to latin music in the middle of a club. regardless - she’s never thought of how to prepare for this because she never saw it coming. dylan, seems to pick up on it, because there’s a hand on her waist, a squeeze to stop the panicking that she knows is unnecessary. there’s a clink at the end of the table almost immedaitely and she’s reminded that the bartender knows this sooyoung and nothing of her outside of this establishment.

so he’s worried and giving her the signal that he’s here to help.

and god sooyoung nearly laughs.

“it’s fine! he’s good! he’s my - he’s...we’re...he’s not bad!” ‘i’m hers - for the rest of the night, if she’ll have me.’

could the earth swallow her?

her gaze switches between the bartender’s smug but concerned look, and dylan’s confidence.

“do you dance?” ‘no, but i won’t miss the chance.’

sooyoung actually laughs this time. dylan’s smiling so easily, like there’s really nothing to worry about and she’d almost forgot that when she’s here - there’s really nothing to worry about. and with him, there’s never anything to worry about, especially when it’s just them. 

and tonight, that’s all it really needs to be. 

she laughs and he looks at her like she’s crazy when she decides to down her drink finally and reach up to pat his cheek.

“try to keep up?” the smile is shy but the words carry ever bit of confidence that she pulls out when she’s on the dance floor. she leaves him for a few seconds to go request a song and then is pulling him with her to a corner of the dance floor. she’s suddenly giddy, very giddy and all previous worries or stress start to fade as the music picks up and the people around them do the same. sooyoung fastens his hands on her hips, breathes out all her worries in one last exhale before looking him in the eye. he looks determined but also he’s observing the people around them, and his hands start to squeeze the more he sees the movements around them.

sooyoung is more aware of things, the lack of space between them, necessary for the dancing and partially because of how packed the dance floor is. she’s aware once again of what she’s wearing but each time she catches dylan watching her, waiting for her orders, or her movements, she doesn’t feel shy, she feels every bit of the compliment he’d said earlier.

she feels just as gorgeous as she does when she comes to let loose, and even more so when her hips start to move and his eyes struggle to focus on her guidance, her movements, or her eyes. it makes her smile, it makes her laugh, it makes her want to keep going.

so she does. so they do. 

it’s awkward, of course it is, it’s obvious that this is new to him but all jokes aside - there’s not much the guy has to do when the girl wants to show off. and sue her, she wants to show off a little. she’s wants to move her hips so fast that when the edge of her dress flies along, it’s less of the air around her and the fabric that reminds her dylan’s right behind her. she wants to hold him close that he has no choice but to move with her, against her and match her.

she wants to give him just a bit, just a taste of this version of her, even if she’s not always this - it’s a part of her and it makes her happy, free and feeling free like this, with him is important to her. 

dylan - he takes it all. he keeps his grip firm, he lets himself be freer as the songs change, as he gets comfortable, as he experiments. he lets his hands wander, she lets his lips fall where they wish, she lets him grip, tug, knead around all the parts of this version of her that he’s not used to. she lets him learn and she lets herself be open to it. she moves with all the openness that office her couldn’t quite muster, but with all the desire that she carries every day. she moves for the things she’s often too shy to say or get out, she lets each shake, each rock, each slip of skin, pass of lips, say all that she’s wanted to.

she’s almost surprised at how easy it is. 

when her hair falls out the ponytail and his lips move from her neck to her ear. when he’s whispering things that make her giggle and stick to him. things that make her forget the rhythm and the music, things that make her turn the color of the drink she’d had earlier and not care one bit. she makes out a few of the words, when his hands haven’t stopped tugging on the frills of her dress and her response is a tug of her teeth against a collarbone and then giggles as a hand in hers is tugging her off the dance floor. 

it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s everything a night like this should be and all she can see is the outline of his shoulder where his button up has started to ride low, a few buttons undone. a little peek of red shows the true damage she’d done without realizing and it’s the promise for the rest of the night.

sooyoung is beside herself with joy, thrumming with it when the car pulls up, when his hands can barely stay off her when they’re inside. when her fingers play around the very marks she can’t take her eyes off on his neck.

it’s so unlike her - and yet it’s completely like her. 

he’s focusing on the road, making the mental decision between her place and his.

“mine is closer.” he gives her a look like he doesn’t know what she means. ‘are you in a rush?’ and two can play at that, so sooyoung leans over, chin on his shoulder. “aren’t you?” there’s a squeeze to her thigh at that and she stifles her laughter when she hears the engine accelerate. 

‘are you off tomorrow?’ “i think i can be.”

maybe it’s the magic answer, they reach her place in record time. and the way he can barely keep his hands off her - if someone sees - persona be damned. 

they can mind their business for once. 

[loveurn]

lens.

@principalles​

there’s nothing different here.

minsoo is sitting beside her at the coffee table. 

there’s nothing different here.

there’s no exams, no homework on the table, a menu yes. he’s got a book and she’s got a tablet but, there’s no studying. not tutoring either, though it’s less to do with her approaching graduation.

still, there’s nothing different here.

hanna’s got one hand going through different textures and brushes for her outline, and another hand under the table.

she bites the pencil, frustrated with a decision and minsoo gives her hand a squeeze. her cheeks burn, she squeaks for a moment and he eyes her from over his book. 

‘you said you wouldn’t squeak.’ “i didn’t squeak dammit.”

he’s been wearing white tee’s and loose button ups to fit the weather and she can’t focus and he has the nerve to smile like that?! still, he goes back to his book and she goes back to her drawing, annoyed with how much she’s been into drawing male models and male collections, drawings whose physiques seem to resemble the man beside her.

the man whose holding her hand, the man whose now sitting just a few inches from her. the man whose every move has her a little jumpy - a little jittery to the point that jamie’s phone has blown up only for her friend to send laughing emoji’s back, the nerve. 

‘you’re so close to the honeymoon phase i can’t wait.’

to which hanna had asked what she meant and jamie refused to respond. 

‘are you stuck? do you want to take a walk?’

hanna’s final project is an entire collection curated by her and she’s not stressed -she’s been making collections since she entered college. it’s child’s play. but the genuine way he asks and seems worried, she wants to have trouble endlessly. 

“i wanna stay here.” her hand squeezes his on impulse and minsoo takes the second to react to that, and then meet her gaze once more. that’s all the reaction she gets for a few minutes and she forgets how easily this man can read her. because no she’s not struck wondering if this is all in her head, or if any movement will break her from this feeling, from the reality of what it is, or what it could be. some irrational fear that leaving will leave all of this and everything with it.

because something is definitely different here. something is most definitely different, in a good way. in the best of ways. ‘we can come back you know, here.’ hanna feels her face getting red and she lets go of his hand immediately and reaches for her things. if she gets a reaction after that it’s the form of his laughter following her out the door.

“you’re buying the milkshake this time.” ‘of course, of course.’