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smileysuh · 6 months ago

Text

model cowboy

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, dry humping, breast worship, slow and adequate foreplay/pussy stretching/prepping, pussy eating, fingering, praise, slight switchy power dynamic but Jae is generally the dom/top, slight overstim, face riding, slight hair pulling, precum (jae is horny), dirty talk, sappy sex, alcohol, etc… I pet names: (hers) superstar.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.2k

🍭 aus.actor!Jaehyun, singer!y/n, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. it was actually so fun to have small clips of TMZ style gossip reporting- loved that I was able to try different things with this fic :)

Prologue

In this week's news, our favorite kids' show alumni are back on the scene together. Beloved model and actor Jung Jaehyun teams up with childhood costar (y/n) (l/n) for her new single Model Cowboy. This song will mark the kick-off of her third album, and the music video is set to start production sometime early next month, with the song coming out on iTunes and other streaming platforms sometime in the new year.

There’s a lot of buzz on social media about this pairing, as the two stars were ‘shipped’ incessantly in their teen years, with one user commenting, “It’s like Britney and Justin Timberlake all over again! Ah!!!!!”

While Jaehyun has had a string of relationships over the years, our favorite girl power singer y/n has only recently ended a long-term relationship with football player Lee Jeno. When asked how this separation would affect her new album, y/n had this to say: “I want to draw on the pain of a breakup because that feeling is so universal, but at the same time, I want the album to be fun. It’s about ending one cycle, and sure, giving yourself the space and grace to mourn that loss, but also looking forward at the future and other opportunities that come your way when you go through something like that.”

When asked about the new single Model Cowboy, y/n noted, “It’s about going back to your roots and finding that cowboy, blue-collar man. I think the trades are kind of in vogue right now, for all of the best reasons. We want salt of the earth, we want a man who will provide and take care of us- not everything is luxury and partying. There’s such peace in stability, and I want to honor the simplicity of good relationships, which we all deserve to experience.”

Despite all of this, when our reporters enquired about Jaehyun as the star of the music video, who, to us and many fans on social media, doesn’t scream ‘salt of the earth, cowboy, or stability’ our singer simply responded with “No comment.”

Yikes.

However, there may be hope for this fan-favorite couple yet. When Jaehyun was asked about his role in the music video at a recent film premiere for his new action movie ‘Home Grown’ he had this to say: “I did a few music videos in my early twenties, but never with anyone I really knew or admired. I’ve been focused on movies and fashion recently, but I’m excited to do a shorter-form art piece. y/n and her team are very creative, and I can’t wait to see the finished result.”

I can safely say that we can’t wait either.

Back when y/n was just eighteen, putting out her first album, there was one song that everyone thought she wrote about Jaehyun. We couldn’t help but bring this up to the actor. When questioned if he’d inspired y/n’s first hit single, ‘Forget About Him’, Jaehyun said, “That’s not for me to say, you’ll have to ask her.” This response revived years of conspiracy on social media, and we’re all still itching for the truth.

Production for Model Cowboy is set for the end of the month, and permits have been granted for shooting in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. We’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for promo pictures and behind-the-scenes photos.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

One:

You’re in your trailer with your assistant, Mark, waiting for your call time, and you can’t help the irritation that’s filling you. It’s the first day of shooting for Model Cowboy, and every other time you’ve filmed a music video, you’ve been excited about the creative journey of turning a song into a visual expression- but not today, and there’s one huge reason for your angst.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you groan. “Jaehyun wasn’t my first choice for this, and he’ll never be my first choice for this- it takes away from the meaning of the song to have him starring with me!”

Mark frowns. “I mean, he’s not exactly a model cowboy-”

“More like a model pretending to be a cowboy,” you scoff.

Your assistant sighs. “Management just wants you two to do this, fake date for a while, promote your music and his upcoming projects, draw intrigue-”

“I know it’s what management wants, I was forced to sign the contract,” you snap. Then you release a breath, getting control of yourself. This isn’t Mark’s fault, in fact, he argued your side in the meeting about this two months ago. “I just… I’m not a huge fan of Jaehyun.”

“You always said he was the most overly confident, smug, pretty boy that came out of your kids’ show,” Mark nods. He’s very good at summing up your difficulties, as he’s your most trusted confidant. You’d never dream of being vocal about your personal opinions of Jaehyun to anyone else, your PR training has taught you not to be fully honest, to prioritize your reputation as a ‘good girl’- but Mark, he gets you.

“At the end of the day,” you sigh, “sure, Jae might be a better actor, but I’m the better singer.”

“I know you won’t want to hear this-”

“Then don’t say it.”

Mark sends you a pointed look. “He did do that cover of ‘I Like Me Better When I’m With You,’ and everyone loved it.”

“Well, Jaehyun doesn’t have three albums and a Grammy. He did a cover. It’s not like that’s difficult.”

Before Mark can say anything else, there’s a knock on your trailer. You jump up, ready to start the day of shooting, but when you open your door, it’s not a PA standing there to take you to location, it’s Jaehyun.

He’s dressed in a cowboy-style outfit, however, it’s more runway than practical, and he’s also wearing the same smug smile he always used to have on when you were working together as kids and young adults.

“Long time no see,” Jaehyun muses.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.”

You know your dislike for Jaehyun is shared with his own disdain for you, and you’d noted that to your managers. How are either of you going to pretend to be in love when this general dissatisfaction with each other is evident every time you’re in the same room?

“Thought I’d come to discuss the whole fake dating script with you, you know, kind of like running lines.”

“There aren’t any lines for our fake dating scenario yet, it’s improv,” you remind him.

“Then, how about boundaries?”

You release a groan. “Fuck it, let’s go find my PA, get in a car to go to location, and we can talk during the drive.”

Two:

There’s a tension in the SUV. With you on his left, your assistant behind you, and Jaehyun’s own manager, Johnny, behind him, everything anyone says will be noted. In fact, Jaehyun’s been listening to Johnny argue on the phone about a brand deal for the past ten minutes.

You’d said you’d discuss the whole fake dating thing, but instead, your eyes are glued to your iPad as you look over the music video notes.

Jaehyun has always found you to be a very focused woman, he might go so far as to say you have a stick up your ass. Your rigidity is a stark contrast to his own ‘go with the flow’ type of way of doing things, and it’s one of the reasons you’d never gotten along well on sets.

When he’d come to your trailer to discuss PR lines, it had been because he was trying to meet you where you’re at. He thought you’d want to plan. In fact, he’d found it almost laughable when you’d told him it would be improv because out of the two of you, he’s the one that’s always excelled in that area.

You have this face you put on for others, but Jaehyun’s always seen through it. You lack confidence in yourself, and that’s why you overcompensate by being anal about details, about practicing so you never fail when the time comes.

Jaehyun leans closer to you, getting a look at the music video notes. The aesthetic board is very desert, horses, sand, sparkles, disco balls, and mirrors- for someone who said Model Cowboy was about finding someone who wasn’t all luxury, there are definitely luxury items in the music video notes.

“So… tell me again what the song’s about?” Jaehyun asks.

You sigh. “Mark sent you a sound clip, didn’t he? Did you even bother to listen to the song?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun shrugs, “but I wanted to hear the details from you.”

You take an exasperated deep breath, putting your iPad down on your lap. “It’s about falling in love with someone who’s very salt of the Earth-”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your lips part in shock and annoyance. “It means a man who’s salt of the Earth.”

“Yeah, you said that, but like…” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh at how bad you’re fumbling this, “what does that mean, to you.”

Mark shifts in the seat behind you, leaning forward to join the conversation. “It means someone who is honest, and reasonable. Someone who doesn’t think they’re special or better than others.”

You flash Jaehyun a pointed look. “So basically, not you.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Baby, neither of us are salt of the earth if that’s your definition.”

He can see how annoyed you are, can pick up the micro movements, the way your fingers are tapping on the edge of the iPad. It’s a rhythmic thing, something you do to calm yourself, and he’d noticed that pattern in you when you were much younger.

“This whole fake dating thing was not my idea,” you snap finally.

“Yeah, wasn’t mine either. We both have PR managers.”

You roll your eyes, letting out another exasperated sound of annoyance.

Jaehyun kind of likes poking at you like this. He’d been worried that you’d be super anal about this whole project, and while you’re definitely fighting for control, he likes to jab you where your guard is down. It feels like a win to him, and deep in Jaehyun’s core, he knows it’s not a nice thing to do, but he simply can’t help himself.

You have a history, years of interactions and bickering- he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but getting on your nerves is as easy as it’s always been, and that schoolboy enjoyment from picking on you is as potent as it ever was.

Three:

You’re a couple of hours into your day, and you’re doing some shots with horses now. You’d chosen Hwasa as your director, she’s a visionary in the type of aesthetic you want, and you’ve worked with her numerous times before. She’s very girl power, which is what you love, and you also enjoy the fact that she sees this as a collaboration.

You’ve worked with male directors in the past who think your music video is about showing their vision, and in your early days as a teen, you hadn’t been able to find your voice. Now, as an adult, you have the final say on everything, and Hwasa is the best partner you could think of for a project like this.

The two of you are by the cameras, making sure the shot will be good. The horses are just hanging out with their trainers, and Jaehyun’s a few meters away under the sun tent, waiting for direction.

“So… I’m thinking…” you look at Jaehyun, then at the saddles on the horses, “What if we try a shot with bareback.”

Hwasa casts you a sideways glance. “I mean… visually, I think that would be nicer, it would encapsulate freedom, but at the same time… is Jaehyun skilled enough to mount while bareback?”

“He’s an actor isn’t he?” You turn to look at Jaehyun. God, you can’t wait for him to fall off the horse and eat shit. “Jae!”

He’s sitting in a chair, his head tipped back, cowboy hat obscuring his face. The sound of your voice makes him sit up, his fingers pushing the rim of the hat up so he can look at you.

“Come over here!” Hwasa calls.

He nods, standing then swaggering over to you. He’s having way too much fun in his little cowboy outfit for your liking. “What’s up?”

“How do you feel about trying this scene on bareback?” Hwasa asks.

Jaehyun looks at the two of you, then over at the horse. “We can give it a go.”

You try to hide your smile, God, this is going to be so satisfying.

Hwasa goes to consult with the safety guys and trainers, who take off the saddle, then talk Jaehyun through how to mount a horse without the aid of stirrups. He nods nonchalantly, as smug as ever.

The scene gets ready, with you and Hwasa behind the camera. “Action!” she calls.

Jaehyun approaches the horse. He stops next to it, stroking it’s hair. You watch him get a gentle grip, and then, in one fluid motion, he hoists himself up, swinging his leg over the horse’s back before steadying himself into a seated position. He guides the horse by its hair to make a neat circle, looking like the most skilled cowboy ever, then he turns and flashes you that smug smile of his as Hwasa yells “cut!”

“That was amazing,” Hwasa tells you. “God, Jaehyun was such a good choice for this.”

“Really? How so?” you ask.

“Just, I know he’s not a stereotypical salt of the earth man. He’s not all American, he’s not a cowboy with a five o'clock shadow- this… dichotomy of visuals versus lyrical interpretation, how any man can be the right man if given the chance, despite all these stereotypes-”

You can feel your expression fall. Sometimes you hate how artsy Hwasa is, with her bachelor's in English and her way with words and interpretations. You can’t argue with her analysis, because if that’s what she gets out of the visual of Jaehyun flawlessly mounting a horse bareback, then that’s her view of it.

“Do you want to try to mount bareback too?” Hwasa asks, drawing herself out of her musings to focus on the scenes she wants in the time allotted.

You release a sigh. “I guess we can give it a try.”

“If it’s too dangerous-”

“If Jae can do it, I can too,” you insist, not wanting to be one-upped by him.

You’re in a long flowy silver dress with a slit up the thigh, and you remove your white overcoat. Jenni, your makeup artist double-checks you, and you’re handed your flashy disco-ball-styled cowboy hat.

The safety team and trainers give you a talk about how to mount the horse, and after listening carefully, you feel ready to take on the task.

Your horse is black, and your outfit is meant to be a contrast. It’s a beautiful horse, and when Hwasa calls ‘Action!’ you approach it carefully. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you stop next to the large animal, stroking it for a moment while you gain the courage to try to mount it.

As you make the leap, hoisting yourself up- Jaehyun calls out, “Don’t slip!”

And of course, that’s exactly what happens. Your leg can’t get a grip over the horse, you trip up a little with the silky material of your dress, and just like that, you’re back on the ground with two feet, sending a death glare over your shoulder at Jaehyun.

“It was a nice effort!” Hwasa encourages you.

“Not many people get it on their first try,” a trainer agrees.

You watch Jaehyun smile smugly, and an annoyance unlike any you’ve ever experienced fills you as he meticulously watches you try to complete the scene.

Four:

It’s near the end of your first day of filming. Hwasa had decided on a one day permit for the horses in the desert, opting to get all the scenes involving the large, beautiful animals done in one big go, and now, she’s explaining the final shots she needs to you and Jaehyun.

“So, we’re skipping through the linear timeline a little right now,” your director explains. “This is one of the final shots of the music video, so we’re going to imagine that at this point, the two of you are completely in love.” You and Jaehyun exchange a look. “You’re riding on horseback in the desert. We want bliss, joy, a comfortable kind of peace that comes when you can truly be yourself with another person, a freedom.”

She gazes pointedly at you and Jaehyun.

“I think we can manage,” you scene partner says, but there’s an edge of hesitation in his voice.

“We’re thinking ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey, but instead of motorcycles, you’re on horses. Think about how effortless she looked, how devil-may-care,” Hwasa, ever the Lana Del Rey enthusiast, explains. “You know her song ‘Young and Beautiful?’ There’s a line, ‘Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild.’ Do you guys have that?”

You love that Hwasa enjoys poetic music, it’s one of the reasons you’d been so drawn to her when you wanted to shift out of your role as a child star turned pop icon. Hwasa had been adamant about the Lana Del Rey stylings that she wanted to influence ‘Model Cowboy,’ the American Dream, wild and poetic love.

However, with all that said, you’d never imagined Lana Del Rey would be tainted by the imaginings of Jaehyun as your lover, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

You’ve already gone over blocking, and Hwasa’s explained the drones and cameras set up to take the shots, so now, all that’s left to do, is get through the day.

Jaehyun can tell you’re lost in thought, he can see the dissatisfied look on your face, but before he can call you on it, Johnny pulls him to the side.

“Good luck with this one,” Johnny muses, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t fall off your horse, you’ve got to be in Milan in a couple of days for the big Prada show.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun brushes his manager off. “I’ve got this.”

“That’s my little go-getter actor,” Johnny grins, having scored a goldmine when he landed Jaehyun as his client, despite being a very young and new manager in the industry. “Be the Model Cowboy you always wanted to be.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath before joining you. “You ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh.

“Okay guys, we’re in love!” Hwasa bellows. “We’ve got this! And… action!”

Your expression immediately changes, suddenly, you’re grinning, in fact, you’re glowing. It takes a second for Jaehyun to follow your lead, but then, the two of you are playfighting and tickling, laughing like young lovers who are tasting what it feels like to have found their soulmate for the very first time.

Jaehyun knows the blocking, he knows when to wrap his arms around you after a few feet of chasing, when to lift you up and spin you as you laugh and gently kick. He knows when to set you down, going in for a kiss only for you to break free and dart to your horse, effortlessly swinging yourself up onto the black stallion and taking off.

Jaehyun is right behind you, mounting his own white horse and following.

He does his best to keep an easy going, loving expression, and at first, it’s a little difficult. But, as more seconds of the two of you riding through the desert go by, Jaehyun remembers the way he felt about you when you first met.

You’d been just kids then. Two young teens still growing into your bodies, into your personalities. He remembers how beautiful you’d been, even then, how your smile had lit up the room, as it does now when you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, making sure the distance between you is still correct.

Of course it’s correct, if you want to be anal, Jaehyun can be anal too, and he’s not going to give you any reason to nitpick after the day he’s had.

No, Jaehyun’s an actor. He’s a professional.

In fact, he’s a Model Cowboy as he chases you through the desert on horseback.

God, the way you’re looking back at him- you’ve really grown into your looks, and Jaehyun’s not making things up when he says you’re glowing. The golden hour sun is hitting you just right, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He feels alive, he feels- as if this whole thing is real. He forgets the cameras for just a few moments, getting lost in the experience of being young, wild, and free, with you.

Something shifts inside of him, although, Jaehyun’s so enthralled with you that he can’t quite pin what’s just taken place.

The scene is over all too quickly, the two of you making your blocking mark at the bottom of one of the rocky cliff faces that litter Joshua Tree National Park. You slow your horse, coming to a stop, your expression falling.

Jaehyun feels his own smile drop as he stops next to you. He swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say, so, he decides to note, “Wow, your acting has really improved!”

He means it as a compliment, but your expression turns even more sour, and he knows he’s messed up.

“Well that’s a back handed compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” you scowl.

“I-” Jaehyun’s words get caught in his throat, and he has to swallow a lump just to continue, “I meant it in a good way, I was trying to be nice.”

“If that was you trying to be nice, it makes sense why you can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month or so,” you snap.

Jaehyun’s chest hurts, and he stares at you in shock. It’s all the more painful, because in some ways, what you’ve just said is true. He’s used to only dating models, people in the industry who aren’t as successful as he is. He’s only ever entered relationships where there’s a power imbalance, and he supposes in a situation like that, any negative feedback could be biting- yet, it’s different with you.

You’re the one with the power here, and it’s clear you won’t take any criticisms from him. You stand up for yourself, in a way no woman ever has around Jaehyun.

As he watches you lead your horse away, signaling the end of the interaction, Jaehyun realizes maybe he kind of likes that you’re very powerful in your own right. Maybe he likes a woman who can defend herself and doesn’t just take what the world throws at her.

Maybe… just maybe, after all this time, he likes you.

Five:

The locations crew had found a really cool oldstyle cowboy motel for everyone to stay at. It had been relatively inexpensive compared to other filming location lodgings in the past, and renting the whole place, including the mess hall, for four days had been the obvious choice.

You’re sitting with Mark and Hwasa, all three of you have trays of food from the buffet, but none of you are focused on eating. Hwasa has her iPad out, and she’s going through the shots of the day with Mark. You remind yourself when you peak at the screen that there’s still a lot of editing to do, but so far, it’s looking quite good.

Your stylist, Jenni, is also with you, and she’s capturing the majority of your attention as she shows you pictures of the costumes set for tomorrow. Your long silver dress is being swapped out for a pink palette upscale cowgirl aesthetic, with Jaehyun in creams and blues to match the lighter blush colours.

You notice Jaehyun walk into the large dining area. He and his manager, Johnny, head straight for the food, and they tilt their heads together, thick as thieves out of ear shot.

When they’re done filling their trays, they begin to head to a table, and that’s when Hwasa calls them over. “Rough shots,” she explains. “Jae, you sit next to y/n and I’ll show you both some of the details.”

You flash Jenni a look, hating that she has to move over for the model to sit.

Jaehyun is awkward as he does so, apologizing to Jenni, which is his only saving grace.

When he settles, your shoulders are touching, and he leans closer to get a look at the iPad that Hwasa is holding. Hwasa doesn’t show all the shots, just her favourites, and you have to admit, the visuals are stunning even before any editing for light and colour.

Then, Hwasa shows you all the footage from the last scene you’d shot, the one with you and Jaehyun playfighting then leaping on horses.

“This is so good,” Hwasa tells you. “You both look so natural on horses, the drone shots are perfect, and the golden hour? Stunning.”

While all of that is true, you’re more focused on how in love you and Jaehyun look. It’s weird to be seeing you and Jaehyun like this. It’s almost out of body, or doppleganger realm, because how the heck did you manage to look so happy and in love with Jeong Jaehyun of all people?

You feel the actor shift next to you, and you get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with it as well… however, out of the two of you, he has way more experience on screen. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he looks very much in love, he gets paid big money to sell those emotions.

“Anyways,” Hwasa sighs, “y/n, tomorrow morning, we shoot sunrise and into the afternoon, then Jaehyun, the latter half of the day is us at the ranch for some more ‘classic’ cowboy scenes.”

“Sounds good,” Jaehyun mumbles. With one last nod of appreciation, he stands up, and it’s as if he can’t get to another table fast enough.

Six:

They’ve been shooting Jaehyun’s cowboy scenes for a couple of hours when he notices your arrival on set. You’re not in the pink costume he’d heard about you wearing this morning, and you’re not all dolled up either.

You’re in a light jacket and jean shorts, a more relaxed look, and yet, you’re still stunning.

You’re next to Hwasa, looking at camera angles and shots, and while you seem to be making a few notes to the director, Jaehyun appreciates that you aren’t trying to micromanage him yourself.

Shooting continues for another hour, and Hwasa calls a short break so she can figure out what else needs to be done today while they have the ranch.

At first, Jaehyun just goes and grabs a water. Johnny is hyping him up, but the actor is hardly paying attention, his gaze focused on you instead.

Jaehyun can’t help himself, he walks over to you. You look up from Hwasa like a deer in headlights, and something about it is very endearing. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, can I uh… talk to you for a sec?” Jaehyun asks.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you nod, “come with me.”

You grab his arm, dragging him away. Jaehyun’s a little confused as to where you’re taking him, and when he finds himself in the privacy of a secluded location behind his trailer, he’s even more confounded.

“Uh….” he starts, wetting his lips.

“What did you need?”

“I was just… guess I was wondering what you were doing here? Didn’t your shoot finish a couple of hours ago? Figured you’d be getting some rest at the motel.”

“It’s my music video,” you remind him. “Also… management thought it would be good to let tabloids get some shots of us shooting today, that’s why I pulled you over here, we allowed them the field of view to your trailer.”

“So that’s why you took me to such a secluded spot,” Jaehyun grins.

“It’s the only reason I touched your arm,” you retort.

“Careful, don’t look so angry,” Jaehyun warns you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tabloid shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Tabloid won’t be on the property till after your last take in an hour or so. Don’t jump the gun, cowboy. After your next scene, you can be as much of a little model slut as you’d like.”

“You think I’m a slut?” Jaehyun asks, shocked that you’re talking to him in this way.

“Am I wrong?”

Jaehyun stands there for a moment, and then, he releases his grip on your hips. “Guess not.”

“So, after you’re done the next scene, we come here, and see if we can pretend to like each other,” you instruct.

“We just have to be as convincing as we were yesterday,” Jaehyun muses.

You open your mouth to respond, but then you shut it, and Jaehyun’s left wondering what you would have said for the next hour.

He wonders how far you’ll let him take things, and part of him wishes you’d answered his question about boundaries yesterday. This feels like uncharted waters, and his heart is racing when he finally meets you behind his trailer again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Do your worst.”

Jaehyun feels himself begin to salivate, and he swallows thickly. There’s no way he’ll do his worst. His worst, would be throwing you against the trailer and having his way with you right here and now- asserting his dominance and seeing if you push back in any way- he suspects you like him more than you let on, after all, Jaehyun’s never met a girl he couldn’t tame.

Life’s hard when you have a stunning face and a hot body to match.

Jaehyun reaches for your hips, pulling you closer. His skin is tingling with excitement. “I’m going to say something funny, and you should laugh,” he whispers.

You grin broadly, but the expression doesn’t meet your eyes. “Depends on if what you say is funny or not,” you counter.

Jaehyun’s mind suddenly goes blank. His pick-up lines, his jokes- they all fly out the proverbial window. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead, he begins to lean in-

You turn your head at the last second and Jaehyun’s lips graze past your cheek. He’s a little taken aback at first, but he leans into it, reminding himself that you’d told him to improv. “Is this okay?” he whispers in your ear, still wanting to double-check with you although every fiber of his being is telling him to just do what he wants.

“It’s okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. “You’re the actor.”

For some reason, it feels like a compliment that you’re making the distinction between the two of you. You’re right, he’s the actor, and you’re the Grammy award-winning singer.

His lips continue softly on your cheek, and then he adjusts, pressing kisses down to your throat. You shift in his embrace, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

“Jae-” you warn.

“Just a few more, for the tabloids,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck moreso than kissing now.

You release a sigh, and with your chests pressed together, Jaehyun can feel your heart racing.

He wonders if you can feel his going a mile a minute too.

Seven:

You eat in your room with Mark, too shaken up by your interaction with Jaehyun earlier to dare enter the mess hall yourself.

“So, I was just sent the tabloid pictures for final approval,” Mark sighs, joining you on the bed so you can see his phone. “They’ll be up in the morning.”

“Just choose your favourites,” you murmur.

“Uh…” Mark blinks at you. “I really think you should look at them with me.”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.”

Shifting your gaze to Mark’s phone, he scrolls through the shots, and you hate how natural they look. You and Jaehyun just look good together, and it sets your teeth on edge.

“The cheek kissing is cute,” Mark says thoughtfully. “The way you’re holding each other looks real.”

It looks too real, in fact.

“I’m just happy we have opposing shoot schedules tomorrow,” you admit with another deep breath. You can see Mark side-eying you, and you hold up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say a word.”

“It’s just…” Mark struggles at times to surpass your commands. He’s your assistant first and foremost, but your company also expects him to have somewhat of a managerial role over you, and you know it’s a fight for him to find balance at times. “Everyone has shipped the two of you since you were younger. People say it’s like Britney and Justin in the Mickey Mouse Club House show- then you were teenagers, and you went different directions-”

“Well, Britney and Justin didn’t end up together, did they?” It’s a rhetorical question, and from the way Mark sighs, he knows it.

“You’re missing the point,” he struggles.

You turn your gaze to him. “Am I?”

Mark releases a breath, dropping the issue. You feel bad shutting him down like this, but at the same time, you don’t want to open the can of ‘Jaehyun’ worms, if you will. No, you’d much rather ignore it for right now.

You’re filming a music video for your new album, and you have much bigger fish to fry.

Eight:

If Jaehyun wasn’t needed for business calls with Johnny today, he might be on set watching you, and Jaehyun can’t get it out of his head as he chills in his motel room and listens to his manager working.

It’s three hours into calls and details before Johnny is able to take a break, and he sets down his phone with a pointed look on his face. “You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh, but there’s little humor in it.

“Talk to me,” Johnny says lightly, giving an air of friendship despite the fact that he’s still in his role as manager. “Talk to me about this whole PR, fake dating thing.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Those fake tabloid pictures of you and y/n from yesterday on set dropped an hour ago, they’re trending on Twitter,” Johnny points out.

“It’s called ‘X’ now, actually.”

Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’m never going to call it ‘X.’ It’s fucking Twitter.”

Jaehyun can’t help but laugh, for real this time. He loves Johnny, loves him for all of his little millennial quirks.

“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, feeling his energy sift again. “Y/N’s super uptight, but… she can act like she’s not, and that’s a different side of her that I wasn’t really expecting.”

Johnny is quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“That song from her first album, ‘Forget About Him,’ was that written about you? Is there a past here?”

“Nah, it wasn’t about me,” Jaehyun assures his manager. “As far as I know, she’s never been interested in me like that. We had this other costar, Haechan-”

“Lee Donghyuck?”

“Yeah, him. They uh, I think there was something there between them, for a little while at least.”

Jaehyun can feel Johnny’s assessing gaze, and he averts his own eyes.

“It almost seems like you’re jealous, Jae.”

“Yeah, well, Haechan never went on to become a brand ambassador for Prada or star in movies, he was just some little child star.” Jaehyun can taste the bitterness in his words, but he can’t help himself.

“You know who’s not just a child star?” Johnny asks. “Y/N. You two are, without argument, the most successful people to come out of the show you were in when you were younger.”

“We’re both very driven,” Jaehyun admits. “I do admire that about her, she has a Grammy for fucks sake.”

“What I’m getting from this,” Johnny concludes, “is that you’re completely fine with this whole fake dating arrangement.”

“Well, as my manager, you should know I’m a good actor,” Jaehyun counters.

Johnny laughs. “Sure you are. Tomorrow is the last day of shooting, you’ve got that big kissing scene, I guess we’ll all see how good of an actor you are then.”

Nine:

There’s something comical about the fact that both you and Jaehyun are chewing gum in preparation for your kissing scene. Together, you’re with Hwasa as she goes over the vision for the shot.

“So, we’re thinking Jae’s going to grab your neck,” Hwasa starts, “gently, of course. More of a cupping the nape of your neck than a grab, actually. It’s going to be slow, a slow exploration of moving closer. Lots of close-ups of the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s about breaking the distance, about two worlds colliding and connecting in a way that feels natural, unrushed, and just, electric.”

Jaehyun nods, looking at you. “We can do this.” You wish you were as sure as he sounds right now.

Jaehyun takes out a tissue, and the two of you spit out your gum, disposing the trash before moving into position.

The shot is on the edge of a cliff, with the desert and sunset stretching out like a vast, yellowy-orange ocean behind you.

It’s as you approach your marked spot that you remember something. “Jae,” you ask softly, “are you still afraid of heights?”

You watch him take a deep breath, and he nods, standing a few feet from the drop-off. You notice he’s looking everywhere but down, and something inside of you softens for him.

Here you are, worried about the kiss, and here this man is, worried about falling off the edge of a cliff and dying.

“We’ve got some space between us and the edge,” you tell him, stepping closer. “Here, grab my hips, we’re both steady, we’re not going to fall.”

Jaehyun’s lips part, and you can see the confusion on his face.

You suppose you’ve never been nurturing to him, but you can’t help yourself with this. You don’t mean to be a bitch, in fact, you’d argue adamantly that you’re not a malicious person. Jaehyun just pisses you off a lot, and his behavior generally merits a reaction- but right now, he deserves a bit of peace of mind, and you can see him relax a little as his hands grab your waist.

“Feels more steady?” you double-check.

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, nodding.

“We’ve got this,” you assure him.

“Are we ready!?” Hwasa calls.

You flash a thumbs up, turning your attention back to Jaehyun.

“And… action!”

The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. Hwasa had said she wanted this to be slow. You’re shocked at how exposed you feel looking up into Jaehyun’s eyes. He really is a very handsome man, and he looks so extremely vulnerable right now.

His gaze shifts to your lips, and you allow him to take the lead. One of his hands moves up your body, cupping the back of your neck gently. You can smell the spearmint on his breath, as he moves closer.

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun’s motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue.

It feels good to be kissing Jaehyun, and the realization makes you break the kiss, opening your eyes and blinking in an effort to get yourself out of the daze that’s come over you.

“That was amazing!” Hwasa’s voice is like a slap. “I’ve got some shots, but I’ll need you guys to do it one more time.”

Jesus.

“You good?” Jaehyun asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Let’s just go again.”

You’re kissing him again all too soon, and this time, it’s like fireworks. Your heart is racing in your chest, your skin electrified as you cling to Jaehyun, diving deeper into the feeling of him.

This time, he’s the one to break the kiss, and he looks away immediately. You notice him breathing heavily, but before you can say anything, Hwasa’s approaching again.

“Okay, that was amazing, and I hate to be that person, but I’ve decided I want drone shots too, so… third time is the charm?” She looks between you and Jaehyun and both of you are quick to nod, although, neither of you has yet found your voice.

“You good?” you ask him as Hwasa goes back to her spot, her main drone lifting into the sky with an electric thrum.

“Yeah, just one more,” Jaehyun says, voice wavering.

The two of you get back into position, and you study Jaehyun carefully. You’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he’s looking at you with the same fierceness. You can tell something has shifted between the two of you, but at this time, you’re unsure how deep it really is.

He kisses you again on Hwasa’s direction, and you wonder how normal it is to feel this way during a kissing scene with a fellow acting partner.

You’ve never had to do this before, but you know Jaehyun has. He’s been in two or three rom-coms, there must be a way to stay professional after kissing a costar, right?

But God, he still feels so good.

You’d thought - or maybe hoped - that the first kiss would be a one-off. That the second wouldn’t be as great, and by now, maybe the butterflies would have escaped the cage in your tummy, but no, the feeling surging through you is as powerful and electric as it had been with the first meeting of your lips.

He leaves you breathless.

Standing on the edge of the cliff with Jaehyun, you realize you’re in deep shit.

Ten:

Jaehyun notices you in the mess hall. You’re looking over food, plating up your dinner, and he decides now is as good a time as any to talk to you.

He doesn’t mean to be a quiet, sneaky sort of guy, but he can’t help the lightness of his walk. When he goes to stand next to you, saying “Hi,” you practically jump, your food stray scrambling a little as you compose yourself.

“Jesus,” you cuss. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh, the shoot is over, I head to Milan tomorrow-”

“Yup, I know your schedule,” you nod, sighing. “It’s in our contract that I come to your show and be front row to watch you, remember?”

“Right, yeah.” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “So… reporters are going to be asking a lot of questions about us.”

“Uh huh, that was the point of the paparazzi pics.” You continue filling your tray with food, so unbothered and cool in your movements that it makes Jaehyun’s heart beat faster. Are you unaffected by your kiss from earlier? Because Jaehyun can’t get the feeling of your lips out of his mind.

“I just uh, wanted to say, you can trust me to give the right answers and stuff. I’m PR trained.”

God, Jaehyun wants to strangle himself. He feels so nervous, and the look you give him tells him that you think he’s being a dork. He’s definitely being a dork-

“Okay?” you laugh. “I’m PR trained too, we both took classes when we were kids, remember?”

“Right,” he’s such an idiot, “yeah. Anyways, I guess… I guess I’ll see you in Milan in a couple of days.”

“Sounds good.”

With one final nod, Jaehyun leaves you be, and he beats himself up about the awkwardness of the conversation for the rest of the night.

Eleven:

In this week's news, our favourite kids’ show alumni were spotted getting close on set. y/n’s new music video, Model Cowboy, is set to be one of the videos of the summer, starring Prada ambassador Jung Jaehyun. The two have a long history, and while there have been rumors about their romantic connection in the past, nothing has ever been confirmed… until now.

TMZ dropped a photo of the two embracing outside Jaehyun’s trailer, and the internet officially broke. #modelcowboy has been going absolutely wild on X. One user wrote: “all my dreams are finally coming true! Thank you mama e papa!” While another took to X to say this: “At first, I didn’t love Jaehyun as the whole ‘model cowboy’ trope. He just doesn’t fit it for me. But I don’t know, something about the pictures of him and y/n just feels right- guess you don’t need a history as a rancher to be a cowboy, he’s definitely lassoed my heart.“

So far, the general consensus around our new ‘It Couple’ is that it’s been a long time coming. While there’s no official confirmation about their relationship, one of our reporters caught Jaehyun after a show in Milan last night. When asked about their time shooting the music video together, the actor/Prada ambassador had this to say about y/n: “She was amazing. The whole experience [filming Model Cowboy] went without a hitch. She’s super talented, one of the most driven women I know, and I can’t wait to see how this music video pans out for her.”

When asked about the pictures of the two of them that have been trending, Jaehyun said: “I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s an icon- who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” When the reporter clarified by asking if they’re dating, Jaehyun noted, “You’ll have to ask y/n, I’d never be ‘that’ guy who would speak for a powerful woman like her.”

All we can say is damn, that’s a green flag if we’ve ever seen one.

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates.

Twelve:

There’s nothing like the closing night of a show. Jaehyun feels elated, he feels on the top of his game, like nothing could bring him down.

“You were amazing,” another model tells him, fluffing her hair up with her hand as the two of them decompress backstage.

“You were amazing, Vivienne,” he retorts, never feeling more giddy and boyish than he does now.

“I’m good, but I’m not model of the year good,” she grins.

“You’re still new,” Jaehyun assures her, although, pride is swelling through him.

He sees her skin flush, her eye lashes fluttering at him-

“Jae?” your voice draws him out of his assessment of Vivienne, and he turns in shock to find you standing there.

You look stunning, your stylist team has really outdone themselves with your looks for the past couple of days- but there’s a sour set to your lips that immediately tells him something is wrong.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“Am I… interrupting something?” your gaze shifts to Vivienne, and Jaehyun immediately understands what’s going on.

“Excuse us,” he says to Vivienne, grabbing your hand to tug you a few feet away. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you jealous right now?”

“No,” you retort immediately. “What reason would I have to be jealous?”

You’re making a big show about the notion of jealousy being ridiculous, but Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“No reason at all,” Jaehyun assures you, and he truly means it. He knows this whole dating this is a PR move, but he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head all week. Every time he’s walked past you sitting front row at the shows- well, he’s been feeling butterflies in a way that he’s hardly been able to admit to himself. “Hey, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “Your show is over, we both fly different places tomorrow morning, management will set our schedules to keep up this whole fake dating thing, I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to my hotel.”

“Oh, right.” Jaehyun can feel his heart sink in his chest. “Uh… where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you maybe want to get drinks later or something?” he asks.

“I’m sure you have after parties to go to with your… model friends.” Your gaze shifts to Vivienne again, and that same sour twist to your lips appears.

Jaehyun wants to reassure you, but- the words just aren’t coming. Besides, what would he even say? We’re fake dating but I’ve been rethinking our entire dynamic since we kissed and now I’m not so sure I want it to be fake, because I’m actually really into you, and all of our bickering in the past has been because I’m jealous of your driven nature and I’ve seen you as competition but now I see that we can do more together than apart?

It feels like a lot of word vomit, and Jaehyun’s not about to projectile all of that at you right now. He doesn’t want to look stupid again, doesn’t want to feel like an idiot. He’s scared of rejection, in a way he’s never been scared of it before.

Instead, dejected, he just nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, so you go have fun, I’m going back to my hotel, and like I said, I’ll see you when I see you.”

Jaehyun watches you leave, and suddenly, the high from the fashion show has depleted. No one has ever had this kind of hold on his emotions before, and Jaehyun knows he’s going to have to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what.

Thirteen:

“Jeeze, Mark, I told you, I’m going to bed-” Your words cut off as you open your hotel door and find Jaehyun, not Mark, standing there.

“Uh… Hi?” Jaehyun smile sheepishly, and you look him up and down.

He’s in a form fitting suit, but it looks somewhat ragged. His shirt is unbuttoned haphazardly, his hair a little fussed, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Well, I went to the afterparty, like you told me to, but… I don’t know, I just felt bad about how we left things.”

You’re shocked at how candid he’s being, and you don’t see a hint of dishonestly in his body language. “Have… have you been drinking?” you question next.

“Just a little,” he admits. “Can I…” Jaehyun looks around the hallway outside. “Can I come in?”

“I should really be going to sleep soon-”

“Yeah, I heard, Mark’s been on your ass,” Jaehyun nods, swallowing, “but uh…” he leans forward, voice lowering, “What’s that pipsqueak going to do about you staying up just a little later? I mean, you can sleep on your flight tomorrow, can’t you?”

Yeah, Jaehyun is drunk. “Did you just call Mark a pipsqueak?” you ask in shock.

“So what if I did?” He grins lazily.

“Jae-”

“y/n.”

You sigh. “Come in, sit down, and let me grab you some water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile is much too large for your liking as he enters your hotel room, going to the couch like a good boy.

You can feel his eyes on you as you get him a bottle of water from the fridge, moving to join him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He unscrews the cap as you sit down, taking a large gulp.

“So… what’s this about?”

He’s still drinking the water, like a child after a marathon, just drinking and drinking with small stops to gasp for air- you can’t help but laugh a little, watching with amusement.

Jaehyun finishes the entire bottle. “So-” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Making you jealous earlier.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “I was not jealous.”

“You were, and it’s okay.” He places his hand on your knee and you look down at it then up at him questioningly. “I was jealous of you and Haechan back in the day, but the difference is, I wasn’t hitting on Vivienne, I was just trying to be nice to her, you know, as male model of the year and everything.”

“Jae-”

“I wasn’t hitting on her,” he says again, expression turning firm. “You’re my girlfriend and I’d never, ever do that to you.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Contractually, you are,” Jaehyun insists. “I can be a good boyfriend to you, if you let me try.”

He’s leaning in now, and you grab a pillow, haphazardly shoving it between the two of you so he can kiss that instead.

“Jae!” You hop off of the couch, heart racing.

“Shit, sorry, you’re just- God, have I ever told you that you glow?” Jaehyun looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him, it’s almost like admiration.

“What are you even saying?”

“You glow. You light up the room. You just- you sparkle, even without disco balls and diamonds.”

You wrap your silky night robe tighter around your body, feeling self conscious. “I don’t glow.”

“You do,” he insists. “Even when we were younger. I think- I think part of me always worried your glow would diminish mine, if that makes sense- but, but after seeing some of the footage from the music video, I see that, now that we’re older, when we do stuff together, when we’re not competing, we can glow together.”

So he’s like… very drunk.

But… haven’t you always heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?

You look down at him, and it feels like you’re seeing him in a new light.

“Jae?” you question.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

“When we kissed that day on set, I felt something.”

“Are you… not used to feeling things?” you ask.

“Not feeling things like that,” Jaehyun corrects. “I mean, butterflies, sparks, you know, corny rom com shit.”

Your stomach flips, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest- so he’d felt the connection too.

“Look, okay, this is going to be embarrassing if you reject me, but, fuck it, I want to get this all off my chest.” Jaehyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his silky hair to steady himself. “I like you. I think, a part of me has always liked you, but, I also used to see you as competition. Now that we’re older, now that we’re both successful, I don’t see you that way anymore- and before you think that’s another backhanded compliment, I just mean, you’ve won Grammys. You’re- a fucking star. And I think… maybe I’ve grown to the point where I can accept other people’s successes without seeing it as a diminishment on my own.”

You’re surprised he can speak this well and use big words while clearly feeling the effects of alcohol, and even more than that, you’re surprised by the context of what he’s saying.

Jeong Jaehyun thinks you’re a star. He recognizes your hard work and your success. He’s not just some smug asshole looking down at you, he’s actually seeing you, and maybe… maybe you’re beginning to see him.

“I appreciate the compliment of what you’re saying,” you tell him, picking your own words carefully.

“There’s that PR training,” Jaehyun winks. “You’re cute. Glowy, little, cute, superstar. Maybe that’s what I should call you, my little superstar, the media would eat it up.”

“That’s your PR training,” you laugh.

“We can’t help it,” he smiles up at you.

“Can I say something without you getting upset?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jaehyun promises solemnly.

“I want to start by saying this isn’t a rejection,” you clarify, “I just wish you would have told me all of this while sober, instead of showing up at my apartment near midnight before we both fly out of town in the morning.”

“I can see that,” Jaehyun nods. “I guess, you kind of scare me.”

“I scare you?” you laugh.

“Uh huh.” He swallows thickly. “Like heights.”

He’s so adorably dorky for a famous actor and Prada brand ambassador.

“But- on that cliff that day, when we kissed, and you reassured me, and you let me hold your hips- I don’t know, it was nice. I- thanks, thanks for doing that.”

“I can be quite nurturing if I think someone deserves it,” you tell him. “Which, speaking of, you’re still drunk, and you downed that whole bottle of water, I think I should get you another, and maybe we can move somewhere more comfortable.”

“Like.. the bedroom?” There’s a glint in his eye, and it makes you scoff.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Jae, you can stay on this couch for all I care.”

“I’ll be good,” he promises, crossing his heart haphazardly.

“Come on.” You hold your hand out for him and Jaehyun takes it, allowing you to help him to his feet. You go get another bottle of water and the two of you move to the bedroom. The mattress is substantially more comfortable than the couch, and Jaehyun releases an audible moan as he clammers down onto it.

You get situated, moing under the covers so you feel less exposed.

“I like it when you’re nice like this,” Jaehyun sighs.

“I’d be nicer if you didn’t always tease me.”

“You like it when I tease.”

“I actually hated it when you told me not to slip as I was getting onto the horse during the shoot, and it completely made me mess up and slip,” you point out, still irritated by that ordeal.

“Okay, to be fair, yes, I’m sorry, but also, your dress was silky as fuck, you were going to slip even if I didn’t say anything, and that’s not your fault, it’s Jenni’s for not giving you better clothes to actually ride a horse with.”

He has a point there.

“So…” Jaehyun switches topic, his demeanor getting more anxious, “back on the couch, you said you weren’t rejecting me… can you… can you explain what that meant.”

“It meant I’m not rejecting you.”

“And salt of the earth means salt of the earth,” Jaehyun retorts, rolling his eyes. “Can you give me a Mark style explanation on what you meant.”

“I meant…” you think about it for a second. “I like you too, I think you might be more into me than I’m into you at the moment-”

“Oh yeah?” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest and getting pouty.

“Yeah,” you laugh.

“Fine, okay, maybe,” Jaehyun concedes. “But?”

“But… I’m willing to explore something with you.”

“Yeah?” His expression brightens. “Really?”

“We’d just have to sort out details, you know- we’re on contract for three or so months, so, if we gave it a real go, and things ended before our contract, how would that even work? There are limitations to having a relationship with someone you work with.”

Jaehyun looks down at the water bottle in his hands, clearly thinking it through. “We can… take it slow? I mean, we’d have to, since we both have different schedules and will be in different countries tomorrow.”

“Slow could work,” you agree.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you almost think he’s going to lean in for a kiss again, and then he asks, “What did happen with you and Haechan? Your first single was about him, right?”

You release a laugh, if this is really a can of worms he wants to open, then you suppose you can let him open it.

You begin to explain to him your history with Haechan, and Jaehyun listens intently. Somehow, he gets the ball rolling on your recent relationship with Lee Jeno, and before you know it, two hours have passed with the two of you just discussing past relationships.

Jaehyun tells you about his own ex’s, about his lack of accountability and emotional maturity. He gives voice to all the trouble spots you’ve identified about him in the past, and clarity on his hopes for being better in the future.

He also noticeably sobers up, which makes you feel a lot better about having this sort of intimate conversation with him.

Soon, you’re both just laying in bed facing each other, talking about everything and anything. “Do you remember that time the catering company on set changed?” Jaehyun asks.

“Oh my god, yeah, when the higher ups wanted more vegan and vegetarian options, and it was just like, raw fruit and veggies with store bought hummus?”

“Jaemin wasn’t used to eating anything that wasn’t carbs or meat and in the middle of a take he had to run to the bathroom?” Jaehyun adds.

“Shat his pants and everything, pissed wardrobe off in a way I’ve never seen,” you giggle. “What ever happened to him?”

“I don’t keep up with many of our old castmates,” Jaehyun admits. “But I think he’s some radio show host or something now, has a segment about embarrassing first dates and stuff.”

“He always loved messy gossip,” you sigh, happy to be reminiscing in this way.

There are only a handful of people who can understand what it was like to be on a kids show in your early teens, only a few others in the world you could possibly have this conversation with.

Despite your differences, you and Jaehyun come from the same place, and it makes it easy to talk to him.

Jaehyun’s staring at you, and he pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Should I let you sleep?” he asks. “It’s two AM.”

You’re hardly tired at this point, and now that Jae’s sober… and in your bed… your own mind has found its way into the gutter, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Always.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time,” you sigh. “And… we’re flying to different places tomorrow, so maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had-”

“It is,” Jaehyun interrupts you. “The best idea you’ve ever had.” You shoot him a look and Jaehyun laughs, back tracking. “I mean, your lyrics and albums are great ideas too- but I just mean… If you’re horny, then you’re horny, and I’m, well, here.”

“I just don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

“Even if you’d tried to fuck me when I first walked in here, all drunk and being stupid, it still wouldn’t have been taking advantage of me.”

“I think fucking someone while they’re drunk is one of the most obvious scenarios of taking advantage of someone,” you counter.

“Okay, true, but- you know what I’m saying.” Jaehyun flashes you a knowing look. “If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.”

“That’s so romantic,” you roll your eyes.

Jaehyun laughs, and then he sits up, looking down at you. “If you want romance, we can go shower together or something. I could… romantically wash your body, and tell you how perfect you are-”

“It’s two am, fuck that. Just kiss me.”

Jaehyun grins, then he leans over you, staring into your eyes. He’s moving slower than you thought he would, and part of you wishes he’d just ravage you like some primal animal- but no, he’s acting like he did in your music video. You can practically see adoration in his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek in a way that’s almost loving.

“I meant it when I said that you glow,” Jaehyun says softly.

“I know you did,” you breathe, grabbing the back of his neck to draw his lips to yours.

It’s odd how familiar the two of you already are. The kiss isn’t awkward at all, but then again, your first kiss hadn’t been either.

Neither of you are trying to dominate it, you’re moving slowly, reading each other’s body language and cues.

When his tongue gently licks your lip, you open your mouth for him, drawing him closer as the kiss deepens.

Jaehyun shifts in your embrace, and then he’s moving to be between your legs, which spread for him. He’s on top of you now, elbows digging into the pillows while you make out like teenagers in love for the first time.

He just feels so good.

For a long time, you’ve felt like an anxious person. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but when you’re kissing Jaehyun, that pressure feels lifted. Your mind goes blank as the two of you make out, your body at the forefront instead of your thoughts.

Jaehyun slowly begins to grind down against you, and the gentle pressure on your clit has you groaning against his lips.

You feel him smirk, and then he begins to kiss down your throat, taking his time to suck gently on your skin.

One of his hands slides up your thigh, teasing the waistband of your sleeping shorts before moving back down again. He’s so warm, and you hips push up for more stimulus.

“Jae-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Slow, or fast?” he asks, pulling away from your throat to look down at you.

“A bit of both.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Fast to get my clothes off, slow to explore, then make me cum,” you clarify.

Jaehyun laughs. “Whatever you want, superstar.”

Your skin tingles at the nickname, and your pussy throbs as Jaehyun begins to remove his clothes. Each button feels like an eternity to get undone, but when he slips the fabric off, you find yourself practically drooling.

He has such a perfect body, not too lean, not too muscled, just perfect.

Then, Jaehyun begins to take off your robe and you sit up to help him. Soon, your shirt is being tugged over your head, and your nipples immediately pebble at the cool air of your hotel room.

You lay back down, staring up at him while Jaehyun takes in your body.

“Glowing,” he whispers, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple.

You whimper at the sensation, and his eyes move up to your face. He’s grinning at you. “Sensitive?” he asks, gently pinching the bud.

You groan, shifting against the bed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun promises, leaning down to kiss you again.

He begins to descend to your throat again, but this time, he goes even farther down, making it to your chest. The first flick of his tongue against your nipple has you whining, and you thread your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

He continues to suck on your breasts, paying attention to both nipples. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, and you’re torn between loving the feeling of this and wanting something more.

It’s as if he reads you, because he pulls away from your chest, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You both adjust to allow him to get you fully naked, and then he lays down between your legs. He presses kisses along the sensitive flesh of your thighs, looking up at you.

There’d been a time in your life when you hadn’t loved eye contact during pussy eating, but there’s something so erotic about the way Jaehyun’s watching you as he brings his mouth to your core.

He kisses your clit gently, and you watch as his eyes close, his tongue swiping up your folds to taste the wet that has accumulated there.

He groans, delving deeper with his tongue, his large hands grabbing your thighs as an anchor as he begins to devour you.

Has anyone ever eaten you out like this? Jeno wasn’t much of a giver unfortunately, and it feels like forever since you’ve had someone doing to you what Jaehyun is currently doing.

Your entire body feels alive, with each flick and suck- You’re clutching at the blankets now, moaning desperately as he works you up faster than any man before him ever has.

You guess you hadn’t put a time limit on making you cum. You’d told him fast to undress, which he did, slow to explore, which he also did- and now, it seems he’s intent on making you cum on his tongue, which is something you have no issues with.

“Jae-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He looks up at you and you begin to move your hips, riding his face. He stays still, letting you use him, and you can tell from the groan he releases that he kind of likes you taking control in this way.

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Please make me cum.”

Jaehyun’s fingers dig into your thighs, and then he’s back at it. He takes lead again, sucking your clit into his mouth while you cry out and grab the sheets with your free hand.

Your eyes close, your back arching a little as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s a steady build of pleasure, and then, you’re tipping over. You release a strangled gasp as ecstasy courses through you like electric shocks from the tip of your head down to your toes and fingers.

You can feel your pussy contracting with pleasure, a steady rhythm that prolongs the sensation. Jaehyun continues to suck on your clit, helping you through everything until you’re a gasping mess.

He relents, and you can hear him sit up. Your eyes are still closed, one hand now haphazardly thrown across your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

The sound of Jaehyun’s pants hitting the floor draws your attention, and you look up to find Jaehyun standing there in all his glory.

“Still want to do this?” he asks.

“Get over here,” you command, opening your arms for him.

Jaehyun flashes you a grin, then he rejoins you on the bed.

Your lips are meeting a moment later. It’s not a gentle slow exploration anymore, but a hungry, lust fuelled haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you even more. You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer.

His cock rubs between your pussy lips and you whimper, reaching between yourselves to line him up- Jaehyun takes your hand, moving it aside. Then, two fingers enter your soaked core and you groan against his lips.

“Gotta prep you,” Jaehyun muses. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while.”

“Don’t tease though,” you warn gently, looking up at him.

“Never.” He kisses you again, drowning out the anxious thoughts as he finger fucks you, spreading his fingers and working you open in preparation for his cock.

Jaehyun begins to curl his digits, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you that has you groaning. You break the kiss to burrow your face against his throat, panting as he draws more and more pleasure out of your already exhausted body.

You feel something drip on your upper thigh, and you look down to see the precum leaking out of Jaehyun’s tip. “Sorry,” he groans, “I’m just, super turned on right now.”

“Then fuck me,” you insist, biting at his earlobe. “I’m prepped now.”

“You sure?”

“We’re both dripping, Jae, just fuck me.”

“You got it, superstar.” Jaehyun grins as he kisses you. He finger fucks you a little more and then he pulls his digits out of your wet core. You watch him sit up, licking his fingers clean, then he grabs the base of his cock.

He presses the tip into you, looking up to watch your reaction. When you release a moan, Jaehyun grins. He steadies over you again, his biceps bulging as his lips meet your own. He pushes deeper inside of you, taking it slow until his hips are flush against yours.

You both groan at the feeling.

“See?” you gasp. “Told you I could take you.”

“Taking me so well,” Jaehyun agrees, his breath hot against your throat as he begins to pepper your skin with kisses.

Jaehyun’s hips start to move, and he fucks you gently at first, allowing your inner walls to get used to the size of him. His kisses distract you as he opens you up, his pace increasing.

You release a loud moan when the tip of his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your throat. “Right there?” he asks, doing the motion again. “Is that the place?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding. “Right there.”

Jaehyun brings his lips to your own, and he kisses you deeply as he continues to abuse that special spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucks you. God, you’re so lost in him, in the best possible way.

You never miss out on beauty sleep, but Jaehyun is more than worth it.

“Superstar?”

“Yeah?” you ask, half delirious.

“Would it be bad if I asked you to ride me?”

“Huh?”

“I just- I could still fuck up into you, but I don’t know, I kind of want to see you on top.”

“Really?” you look up at him in shock. “You strike me as a man who likes to have control.”

“Says the woman who likes to have control,” he counters with a grin. “Or… do you just want to be my pillow princess?”

You consider it for a moment. “You know what, yeah, let me get on top, I want to watch you when you cum.”

Jaehyun physically shivers from your words, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest. “Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, get on top.”

It’s a quick adjustment, with Jaehyun dragging you onto his lap. You sit down on his cock and both of you groan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you like this, and you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself for a moment.

Then, you begin to bounce.

Jaehyun throws his head back against the pillows, moaning deeply.

Fuck, he’s so hot like this.

There’s something so erotic about being on top, on knowing that you’re going to be riding him when he cums.

Your whole relationship has been about competing for power, and now, in the midst of one of the most vulnerable exchanges of power, Jaehyun had stopped from his position on top to give you the opportunity to be in control.

You like that. You like it a lot.

It shows he hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about the two of you glowing together, and it gives you a newfound kind of hope for whatever relationship is budding between the two of you.

You ride him harder at the thought, and his hands find your hips, helping you bounce.

“Fuck, fuck-” Jaehyun groans, his fingers digging into your skin. “Feels so good.”

In all honesty, the first position had felt better for you, when he was doing all the work, but you’d never admit that to him, especially not while deep in the throes of passion like this. He’d already made you cum, and now, you want to return the favour.

You ignore the burning in your thighs, fucking Jaehyun in a way you’ve never fucked a man before. You can feel the power of it bubbling inside of you, and you focus on his expression, on the pleasure that’s written all over him.

“Jae,” you groan, “want you to cum for me.”

“Don’t-” he swallows thickly. “Don’t you want me to hold out a little longer?”

“It’s our first time, we have flights tomorrow,” you retort. “Just let go, I wanna feel it.”

“You and your scheduling,” Jaehyun laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan, his eyes closing again. “Fuck, okay, but you have to let me make it up to you sometime.”

“Next time we see each other we can spend hours fucking,” you tell him.

“Promise?”

“I promise, now be good and cum for me, yeah?”

Jaehyun shivers again, and there’s a slight look of confusion on his face. You get the sense that he’s not used to being talked down to like this- but it’s clear it turns him on in a new, foreign sort of way.

“Okay, yeah.” Jaehyun anchors himself against the bed, and then he begins fucking up into you, his muscles rippling under his perfect skin. “Shit, fuck-”

You watch the pleasure build in him, until he reaches his peak. The tension clearly snaps, and he lets out a deep groan that goes straight to your core.

You continue to ride him, intent on helping him through it-

Jaehyun grabs you and pulls you down to his chest, holding you still as he shoots his load deep in your pussy. He’s groaning in your ear, hips twitching-

God, you love the way you’re pinned like this, the way he’s cumming so hard he needed you to just stop.

You allow him to finish, and his grip slowly lets up on you. He’s no longer using his strength to keep you still, he’s just holding you, the two of you panting desperately.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“That day, behind my trailer, the first time I held you,” Jaehyun clears his throat, “could you feel my heart racing the way it is now?”

“I was more focused on my own heart,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

“It was going pretty fast.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, holding you tighter. “Guess we were both in for it, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Jaehyun holds you a little while longer, and then he sighs. “I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, but you can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Could you imagine how much people would react if the paparazzi got a picture of you leaving my hotel tomorrow morning?”

Another chuckle escapes him. “You and your PR training.”

“You love it,” you insist.

Jaehyun releases a sigh, burying his face closer to your throat. “I do love it.”

You’re from the same world, the same industry, and no one has ever understood you or your job the way Jaehyun does.

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you set to fly to different countries in just a couple of hours, something about him just feels so right.

You’ve spent your whole life trying to be someone else for other people, for your management team, for your fans- but with Jaehyun, maybe you can just be exactly who you are, professional obligations and all.

He��d said it himself, he’d seen your glow from the moment you met, even as awkward kids on a tv show trying to make names for yourself. He’d seen your sparkle before you’d even seen it in yourself, and now, maybe he’s right. Maybe you can learn to glow together.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I kind of loved working on this au, I know it's not classical 'he's an actual cowboy' but I really loved working with Jae as this character

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. You’ve been in love before, but it was always different. You were always with men who saw you as a prize. They put you on a pedestal, and it was often one sided with genuine empathy. You were a support in their lives, as opposed to a form of mutual understanding.But Jaehyun understands you, so you can confidently say he’s the sweetest love you’ve had.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, worship kink, substantial foreplay/prep, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, man handling, anal (thumb in the butt), etc… I petnames. (hers) superstar.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

“Wow,” you breathe, staring out at the crowd as you clutch the Grammy in your hand. “I can honestly say, I never expected this award. To win Best Music Video, I just- I’m in shock. I want to thank my parents, my label, my team of wonderful people, production, styling, Hwasa, who directed the video, and Mark, my manager. I want to thank my fans especially, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. And, I also want to thank my amazing scene partner, Jaehyun. I know a lot of people were confused about Jae being the Model Cowboy, but he showed up to set, and something just clicked. We made magic with this one, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Thanks again, wow, thanks.”

You’re practically shaking as you make your way off the stage to go rejoin your group of people in the audience. Hwasa and Mark both give you a hug, and Johnny pats you on the back. When you reach Jaehyun, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as he presses kisses along your face.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.4k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jaehyun nct #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader

2K notes · View notes

toonerdformyself · 3 months ago

Text

Batman is my bicycle, i will ship that old man with EVERYBODY and i say that without shame

SuperBat? Obv

WonderBat? Even better

Brutalia? MY GOAT

BatCat? They are MY married couple

GhostBat? DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED

BatArrow? Best childhood friends to lovers

BatLantern? Yes ofc

Bruce x Constantine? Dont put me in a room with those two

TwoBats? Ah yes, my fav tragic love history

LEGO batman x LEGO joker? Sure, but only in that font

SuperWonderBat? YOU KNOW i love my trinity

Brutalina? I haven't tried it but I sure like it

Feel free to tell me your ships so i can ship that man with even more people

but what I don't support, NOT EVEN A BIT, is batcest, don't start that sh*t with me

915 notes · View notes

inseobts · 1 month ago

Text

Sketching Another Life

sabo x gn!reader

you keep sketching sabo even though he died in front of you years ago. but what happens when he appears again?

a/n: omg finally got the chance to post this akdjsj it was in my draft for months and months lmao

words count: 2.9k

tags: doesn’t follow the anime canon events, childhood friends, protective luffy

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy doesn’t hesitate when he sees Sabo again.

The moment his big brother stands before him, alive, real, breathing—he hugs him.

It’s not even a conscious thought. His body just moves, arms wrapping tightly around Sabo’s torso, pressing his forehead against his coat. He squeezes his eyes shut, because damn it, Sabo was supposed to be dead.

Sabo stiffens for only a second before his arms return the embrace just as fiercely “Luffy…” His voice is hoarse.

Luffy grips the back of Sabo’s coat tighter “You idiot,” he mutters “You—you were gone.”

“I know,” Sabo whispers, and there’s so much regret in those two words that it makes Luffy’s chest ache.

It takes a long time before Luffy finally pulls away. His eyes scan Sabo’s face, as if memorizing every inch of him. He’s older now, different, but still Sabo.

And then Sabo asks the question Luffy knew was coming.

“…What about y/n?”

Luffy’s stomach drops.

He knew Sabo would ask. He knew the moment his brother remembered everything, he’d remember you too.

Because how could he not?

You weren’t just a part of their childhood—you were one of them. The fourth member of ASL. The one who always trailed after them with a sketchbook tucked under your arm, the one who kept their memories alive on paper.

Luffy swallows hard, looking away. He remembers the way you shattered when Ace died. The way you curled into yourself, sketching their faces over and over like you were trying to bring them back.

The way you stopped smiling.

The way you stopped living.

You had lost both of them, and now Luffy refuses to let you break all over again.

So he lies, and for the first time ever he has to be good at lying, because now it's important and he can't do it wrong.

He forces a grin, rubbing the back of his head “Ah, y/n? Yeah, they’re—uh, they’re fine! Doing their own thing!”

Sabo frowns “Really?”

“Yep!” Luffy nods—too quickly “They’re not on the crew anymore. Just, y’know, off somewhere!”

Sabo stares at him “…You’re lying.”

Luffy freezes.

Sabo’s gaze sharpens “Where are they, Luffy?”

Luffy crosses his arms “Not tellin’ you.”

Sabo blinks, caught off guard “What?”

“You heard me,” Luffy says, suddenly serious “I’m not tellin’ you.”

Sabo stares, confusion flickering in his expression “Why not?”

Luffy looks him dead in the eye “Because you died.”

Sabo flinches.

“You died, and Ace died, and y/n almost didn’t make it through that.” Luffy’s voice is tight now, controlled but firm “I won’t let you hurt them again.”

Sabo feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

You… suffered? Because of him?

“I just want to see them” Sabo says, softer now.

Luffy shakes his head “No.”

And that’s the end of it for now.

Sabo doesn’t push the subject.

He lets Luffy avoid it. He lets him steer the conversation elsewhere. But the thought of you lingers in his mind, heavy and unshakable.

Are you really okay?

Something doesn’t sit right, and then, by pure accident, Sabo finds it.

He’s wandering the Sunny, familiarizing himself with Luffy’s ship. The night breeze is cool, the ocean calm. He steps into a quieter part of the deck, where a small table sits against the railing.

There’s a notebook on top of it.

At first, he doesn’t think much of it. But then his eyes catch the open page—the sketch.

His breath stops.

It’s them. Him. Ace. Luffy. And you.

The four of you, standing side by side, grinning like you hadn’t a care in the world. Just like old times.

But that’s not what makes his chest tighten.

It’s the signature.

A dumb, childish sign that only one person ever used. A weird little mark that never made sense to anyone but you. The same signature you used when you were kids.

And right beneath it—a date.

Just a few days ago.

Sabo’s eyes widen.

Luffy lied.

You’re here.

Sabo grips the notebook, knuckles white. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he stares at the date—just a few days ago.

He doesn’t know whether to be angry or just hurt. He knew right away that Luffy lied but now he has the confirmation.

Before he realizes it, his feet are already moving. He storms across the deck, gripping the notebook tight in his hand. He finds Luffy near the mast, shoving meat into his mouth like nothing’s wrong.

Like he didn’t just lie to his own brother.

Sabo doesn’t stop walking until he’s standing right in front of him “Luffy.”

Luffy looks up, still chewing “Hmm?”

Sabo holds up the notebook “Explain this.”

Luffy freezes.

His eyes flick to the sketch—to the signature. His chewing slows, and for the first time since reuniting, Sabo sees something rare in his little brother’s expression.

Guilt.

“Sabo…” Luffy swallows, setting his food down.

“You lied” Sabo says, voice controlled but firm.

Luffy doesn’t deny it. He just looks away.

Sabo tightens his grip on the notebook “Why are you doing all this?”

Luffy exhales through his nose, running a hand under his hat “Because you hurt them” he says simply.

Sabo’s stomach twists “I—what?”

“You heard me” Luffy says, looking back at him “Ace died. You were gone. Y/N lost both of you. And you wanna know what happened after that?”

Sabo doesn’t answer. He’s not sure he can.

Luffy’s jaw clenches “They stopped living, Sabo.” His voice isn’t loud, but it’s heavy, filled with something raw “They stopped smiling. They kept drawing, yeah, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t for fun anymore. It was like…” He hesitates, searching for the right words “Like they were trying to keep you guys from disappearing forever.”

Sabo’s fingers curl.

Luffy sighs “I thought I was gonna lose them too.” His voice drops to something dangerously soft “I almost did.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

He never thought about it. He never realized.

He had assumed you were strong. You always were. You were the one who stood beside them, laughing, teasing, drawing stupid little comics of them falling into ditches.

You had always been there but he left. Ace left. And you had to bear that weight with Luffy alone.

Sabo looks down at the sketch again, his own face staring back at him from the page. The way you had drawn him—older, smiling, standing beside his brothers. A version of himself that you had never even gotten to see.

And yet… you still imagined him there, growing up with all of you.

He swallows hard “I need to see them.”

Luffy frowns “No.”

Sabo’s head snaps up “Luffy—”

“I said no!” Luffy stands up, fists clenched “I just got you back, and I’m not letting you mess them up again!”

Sabo’s chest tightens “Luffy, I—”

“They’re happy now!” Luffy cuts him off “They started smiling again! They’re finally okay! What if seeing you ruins that?!…”

Silence.

Sabo stares at him, realization settling in.

Luffy isn’t just protecting you.

He’s terrified.

Terrified that seeing Sabo again will break you all over again.

Sabo takes a slow breath, his grip loosening on the notebook. His voice is softer this time “Luffy… you don’t get to decide that for them.”

Luffy flinches.

Sabo takes a step forward “You think they’ll fall apart if they see me?” He shakes his head “You don’t know that. Maybe it’ll hurt at first, yeah. But don’t you think… maybe they deserve to decide that for themselves?”

Luffy doesn’t respond. His jaw is tight, hands trembling slightly at his sides.

Sabo exhales “I need to see them, Luffy.”

Luffy clenches his teeth, eyes shadowed beneath his hat.

Then, finally—

“…They’re in the infirmary.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

Luffy doesn’t look at him “They got hurt on our last stop. Chopper said they just need rest and Sanji is there to keep an eye on them” He crosses his arms “If you wake them up and make them cry, I’m gonna punch you.”

Sabo huffs a small laugh “Fair deal.”

But Luffy doesn’t laugh. He just turns away “…Don’t hurt them again.”

Sabo watches him for a moment. Then, he nods “I won’t.”

With that, he heads toward the infirmary and then hesitates in front of the door.

For the first time since finding out you were here, uncertainty creeps in.

What if Luffy’s right?

What if seeing him just brings back all the pain you worked so hard to bury?

He exhales, pushing the thought aside. No—he has to see you. He has to make things right.

Slowly, he pushes the door open.

The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a lantern. The air smells faintly of medicine, and the steady sound of breathing fills the silence.

His eyes land on you instantly.

You’re curled up on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, your expression peaceful. Even after all these years, even after everything, you still look like you.

Sanji is seated in a chair beside your bed, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette resting between his fingers. He doesn’t look surprised to see Sabo standing there. If anything, he looks… expecting.

Sanji exhales a slow stream of smoke “Took you long enough.”

Sabo tenses “You knew I was coming?”

Sanji leans back, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray on the table “Didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Luffy’s been acting weird ever since you showed up.” He tilts his head “You finding that drawing must’ve sped things up.”

Sabo doesn’t respond. His eyes flick back to you, his chest tightening.

Sanji notices “They’re okay,” he says, voice quieter now “Just exhausted and resting. Took a rough hit on our last island, but nothing Chopper couldn’t fix.”

Sabo clenches his fists. The idea of you being hurt—even now—doesn’t sit right with him.

Sanji watches him carefully “So? You gonna wake them up?”

Sabo hesitates “…I don’t know if I should.”

Sanji takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling through his nose. “You really think you get to make that choice?”

Sabo looks at him, startled.

Sanji doesn’t break eye contact “You left them once already, didn’t you?” He taps his cigarette against the tray again “You don’t get to decide what’s best for them. Not anymore.”

Sabo’s breath catches.

Sanji sighs, standing up “I promised Luffy I’d keep an eye on them but I also know they’d kill me if they found out I let you walk away.” He gives Sabo a pointed look “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Sabo looks at you again.

His fingers twitch at his sides.

Then, finally—he moves.

He steps forward, slowly, quietly, until he’s right beside your bed. His breath is unsteady as he really takes you in.

You’re different now. Older. But still you.

And then, without thinking, he does something he hasn’t done in over a decade.

He reaches out—hesitates—then gently brushes his fingers against your hair.

Sanji raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

Sabo swallows hard. His voice, when he speaks, is barely above a whisper.

“…I’m sorry.”

For leaving.

For making you grieve.

For not finding you sooner.

For everything.

And then— you stir.

Sabo’s breath stills.

Your eyelids flutter slightly, brows furrowing as if resisting the pull of consciousness. He pulls his hand back quickly, heart pounding.

He’s not ready but he doesn’t have a choice.

Because then—your eyes open.

You blink a few times, adjusting to the dim light, and then your gaze lands on him.

And you freeze.

Sabo’s throat goes dry. He should say something. But he can’t. He can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t do anything except stare because you’re looking at him like he isn’t real.

Like he’s a ghost.

Your lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. Just wide, unblinking eyes, your body going stiff beneath the blanket.

Sabo finally forces himself to speak.

“Hey.”

It’s weak. Hoarse. Not nearly enough.

You don’t react. You don’t move. You just keep staring.

A thousand emotions flicker across your face—confusion, disbelief, shock—before suddenly, your expression shatters.

Your hands tremble as you clutch the blanket. Your breath hitches, quick and shallow, like you’re trying to hold something back.

“Sanji.”

Your voice is barely a whisper, but Sanji is at your side in an instant “I’m here.”

You don’t look away from Sabo, like if you blink, he’ll disappear “You see him too, right?”

Sabo’s chest tightens.

Sanji exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah, sweetheart. I see him.”

You inhale sharply “Oh.”

Sabo takes a cautious step forward “y/n, I—”

“Don’t.”

His stomach drops.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut “Don’t talk.”

He stiffens.

Sanji places a hand on your shoulder “Breathe,” he murmurs “Nice and slow.”

You try—you really do—but it’s too much.

Because Sabo is standing right in front of you, looking older but still so much like the boy you lost.

And the worst part?

He’s looking at you like he’s sorry.

And that makes you angry.

Your hands curl into fists “You—” Your voice shakes, raw with something you can’t name “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Sabo flinches “I know.”

“Do you?” You snap your head up, eyes burning “Do you actually know what it was like? To lose you? To lose Ace?! I'm so happy to see you but what the hell? Why only now... I don't know how to feel...”

Sanji’s fingers tense against your shoulder, but he doesn’t stop you.

Sabo takes a breath, steady but guilty “I can’t take back what happened. I've lost my memory and got it back just after Ace... But I—”

“You what?” Your voice rises, throat tight “You just forgot about us?!”

Sabo’s expression twists “I didn’t—”

“You did!” The words rip out of you before you can stop them “You left, Sabo! You left me, and then Ace—!” Your voice breaks “And then Ace—!”

You can’t say it.

You can’t say it because if you do, it becomes real again.

The weight in your chest feels suffocating.

And then—a hand.

Not Sanji’s.

Sabo’s.

Warm, hesitant, but firm as it settles over yours.

You stiffen.

Sabo kneels beside the bed, meeting your gaze with something deep, something raw.

“y/n” he murmurs, voice almost pleading “I’m here now.”

Your breath hitches.

Because that’s the problem.

He’s here.

And you don’t know if you can handle it.

You don’t speak, don’t even move for a few seconds. Your heart is pounding in your chest, a chaos of emotions swirling in the pit of your stomach. But then, without warning, you pull him close.

It’s a sudden movement, urgent, like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him with everything you’ve got. Your arms are tight around his neck, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Sabo’s breath catches. He doesn’t know what to do, but he doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his arms around you, careful and gentle, as though afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile moment.

And it’s fragile.

Because in this hug, there’s tension. So much unspoken hurt in the way your body trembles against his, the way your breath hitches every time his fingers brush the back of your head. This doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t make up for the years, the pain, the void that has been left in the wake of his absence.

But it means you missed him. It means, despite everything, you’re still here. Still clinging to him.

He feels you pull away just a fraction, enough for him to meet your gaze. Your eyes are red and swollen, and the sight of it nearly breaks him.

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, trying to hold it together. And then, your voice comes out rough, raw, barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t expect me to forgive you right away.”

Sabo’s chest tightens. He wants to speak, to apologize, to explain himself, but the words are stuck in his throat. Instead, he just nods, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I know,” he says quietly, voice thick “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

You swallow, your breath still uneven, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence between you is heavy, but it’s not suffocating. It’s an understanding.

Then, without warning, you move again. You turn your back to him, walking slowly over to the window, the moonlight casting a soft glow over your features.

Sabo stays where he is, unsure of what to do, still unable to quite believe that he’s standing here, in front of you, after everything.

You take a deep breath and speak, your voice more controlled now, though the weight of everything still lingers.

“When Ace died… I thought I was gonna lose everything. But I didn’t, Sabo. I stayed. For Luffy. For… for us.” You pause, fingers curling into the fabric of your blanket “And I can’t—can’t—lose you again.”

Sabo’s heart aches. He doesn’t deserve that. You stayed. You stayed through the worst of it, even when he wasn’t there, even when Ace was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, barely audible “I can’t take back what I did.”

You don’t look at him, but your voice trembles when you speak again.

“I know.”

It’s simple. But it’s all you need to say.

Sabo stands there for a long moment, the weight of your words sinking in. It isn’t enough to fix things. It won’t ever be enough. But it’s a start.

And he’ll take it.

For now.

367 notes · View notes

elryuse · 11 months ago

Text

I'm sorry, Can I Be Yours

Winter X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Friends To Lovers, Kiss, Teasing, Fluff, Virgin Sex, Creampie, Good Ending?

The School bell blared, jolting me out of my reverie. I scanned the emptying hallway, searching for Winter's familiar pearly blonde hair. My stomach clenched when I spotted her surrounded by her posse, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Winter, the girl who used to chase butterflies with me at recess, now seemed like a distant star, dazzling yet untouchable.

It wasn't always like this. Back in elementary school, Winter, or Minjeong as I called her then, was the new kid, a shy sparrow adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces. I, the self-proclaimed schoolyard ambassador, had swooped in, determined to be her friend. We were an unlikely pair – me, the rambunctious chatterbox, and her, the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies within them. But somehow, it clicked. We built sandcastles that defied the tide, shared scraped knees and ice cream cones, our laughter echoing through the playground.

High school, however, had cast a long shadow over our friendship. Winter blossomed into an ethereal beauty, her smile lighting up every room she entered. Admirers swarmed around her like bees to a rose, and her schedule became a whirlwind of student council meetings, dance practices, and social gatherings. I, on the other hand, remained comfortably obscure, content with the company of my camera and a well-worn book.

The distance wasn't physical, not yet. We still sat together at lunch, a forced routine amidst the chaos. But the easy conversations, the comfortable silences, those had become a distant memory. Now, an awkward tension hung between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and longing glances that pierced my heart.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter was surrounded by her usual crowd, their voices a flurry of excitement about the upcoming school festival. I stole a glance at her, my heart sinking at the coldness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that used to reside there.

"Hey, Winter," I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper above the din. "They were talking about volunteers for the photography booth at the festival. You know I take a decent picture or two."

A flicker of something, maybe annoyance, crossed her features before she schooled her expression into a polite smile.

"Oh, right," she said, her voice devoid of its usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe you can help out. Hana mentioned you were good with that camera of yours."

The casual dismissal stung. Hana? We hadn't discussed the festival, and the way Winter phrased it made it seem like it was Hana's idea, not mine. I forced a smile, the bitterness clinging to my tongue.

"Sure," I mumbled, pushing my untouched lunch tray away. "Just let me know what needs to be done."

The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen glances. As the final bell rang, I gathered my things, the weight of our strained friendship heavy on my chest. Winter barely acknowledged me as she swept out of the classroom, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was this the end of our story? The question echoed in the empty classroom, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us.

The following week, a new face appeared in our homeroom class. A girl with long, flowing black hair and a face that could launch a thousand ships, but her posture screamed timidity. She shuffled in, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with the sea of curious faces. The usual welcoming chatter died down, replaced by a tense silence.

As the teacher droned on about expectations and school policies, I couldn't help but steal glances at the new girl. Her name was Lee Seo-Ah, according to the attendance sheet. Unlike Winter, who captivated the room with her mere presence, Seo-Ah seemed to shrink into herself, disappearing into the background.

A pang of sympathy stabbed at my heart. I remembered all too well the awkwardness of being the new kid, the crushing loneliness of trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. Winter, once the shy newcomer, had effortlessly blossomed into the center of attention. Seo-Ah, on the other hand, seemed trapped in a shell of her own making.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the usual flurry of introductions and small talk began. But Seo-Ah remained isolated, a solitary island amidst a bustling sea. I couldn't just stand by and watch.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her desk, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. "Hi, I'm Y/n," I said, offering a friendly smile. "Welcome to our school."

Seo-Ah looked up, startled, her eyes wide and filled with a flicker of surprise. For a moment, she didn't speak, then a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"H-hi," she finally mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm Seo-Ah. It's... nice to meet you."

Her shyness was endearing, a stark contrast to the usual boisterousness of the classroom. "Seems like you're new here," I continued, hoping to ease the tension. "Anything I can help you with?"

Seo-Ah hesitated, then bit her lip. "Well, I'm a bit lost. I don't know where my next class is."

Relief washed over me. "No problem at all. I have the same class next. Let me show you the way."

As we walked down the hallway, Seo-Ah spoke in hushed tones, her words punctuated by long pauses. She told me she was from Busan, a coastal city known for its seafood and beaches. She loved art, particularly painting, but was too shy to join any clubs.

I listened intently, offering words of encouragement and pointing out landmarks along the way. To my surprise, Seo-Ah slowly began to open up, her voice gaining a hint of confidence. By the time we reached her next class, a hesitant smile played on her lips.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"No worries at all," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "Welcome to the group, Seo-Ah."

Perhaps, in helping Seo-Ah find her way, I had also found a way to bridge the growing distance between myself and Winter. After all, kindness, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, could create ripples that reached far and wide.

A couple of weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During lunch breaks, I found myself gravitating towards Seo-Ah, her infectious laugh and bubbly personality a welcome change from the strained atmosphere I shared with Winter. We'd discuss everything under the sun – from her passion for painting to the latest K-pop group she was obsessed with. Slowly, her shyness melted away, replaced by a comfortable openness.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter caught me engrossed in a conversation with Seo-Ah. Her expression was unreadable, but a flicker of something, maybe jealousy, crossed her features for a fleeting moment before she masked it with a polite smile.

"Looks like you've made a new friend, Y/n," she said, her voice cool and detached.

"Y-yeah," I replied, trying to keep the awkwardness at bay. "Seo-Ah just transferred from Busan. We get along pretty well."

Winter simply nodded, her gaze lingering on Seo-Ah for a beat too long before she turned away to continue her conversation with Hana. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the easy banter I shared with Seo-Ah.

During that week, I discovered another one of Seo-Ah's talents. While helping her unpack her art supplies after school, she pulled out a sketchbook filled with breathtaking landscapes and portraits. My jaw dropped in awe.

"Wow, Seo-Ah, these are amazing!" I exclaimed, flipping through the pages. "You're incredibly talented."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Thanks, Y/n. I actually joined the art club this week. They seemed really nice."

A surge of excitement coursed through me. "That's fantastic! Maybe we can even work on some projects together sometime. I'm in the photography club, and we're always looking for new angles and perspectives."

Her eyes lit up. "R-really? That sounds awesome!"

Over the next few days, Seo-Ah and I spent our free time bouncing ideas off each other. We'd discuss light and shadow, composition, and the emotions a photograph or painting could evoke. With her, there was none of the awkward silences or unspoken expectations that had infiltrated my relationship with Winter. It felt… easy, comfortable.

Meanwhile, the distance between Winter and me continued to widen. Our conversations were short and superficial, filled with long pauses and forced smiles. I missed our late-afternoon talks, the way we could just sit in comfortable silence, knowing each other's thoughts without needing to speak them. But Winter was a whirlwind of student council meetings and social gatherings now, leaving me feeling like an outsider peering into a world I no longer belonged to.

One Friday afternoon, while Seo-Ah and I were discussing camera settings in the library, Winter approached our table, her face etched with a forced smile.

"Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice clipped. "Just wanted to let you know there's a student council meeting this evening. You're… welcome to join."

Her words felt like an afterthought, an obligation rather than an invitation. Seo-Ah, sensing the tension, chimed in.

"Oh, a student council meeting? That sounds important. You should definitely go, Y/n."

Winter's smile faltered for a second, then she straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, sure," she said, her gaze flickering to Seo-Ah before darting away. "See you guys later."

As she walked away, a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Was I missing something here? Did Winter feel threatened by Seo-Ah's presence? Or was it simply a case of her being too busy with her own things to acknowledge our dwindling friendship?

Stepping into the student council meeting room felt like entering a different world. The air crackled with nervous energy, students flitting around finalizing decorations and posters. Minjeong, usually radiating icy efficiency, seemed to have a vibrant life of her own here. Her voice, sharp and clear as she addressed the room, held an undeniable power.

I found myself an empty chair at the back, feeling strangely out of place amidst all the organized chaos. The topic of the meeting – the upcoming school fireworks festival – was a whirlwind of budgets, logistics, and safety regulations. Hana, Minjeong's ever-reliable vice president, rattled off numbers with laser focus, while Minjeong herself managed the discussion with a firm but encouraging demeanor.

As the meeting progressed, I stole glances at Minjeong. The fierce, focused leader I witnessed was so different from the quiet girl who had been my best friend. A pang of longing crossed my chest for those simpler times. Then, our eyes met.

Caught off guard, Minjeong's gaze flickered for a moment before she looked away, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a fleeting glimpse of the girl I knew beneath the student council president facade. The warmth of that smile sent a jolt through me. Was there still hope for us?

Suddenly, Hana's voice cut through my contemplation. "So, who's up for grabbing some pizza after this? We've still got hours of work to do before the week's out."

A chorus of groans and cheers filled the room. Minjeong chuckled, a soft sound that seemed foreign on her focused face. "Sounds good, Hana. But make it quick, alright? We don't want to be here all night."

As the meeting wrapped up, the room buzzed with newfound energy. Students piled into a corner, chatting excitedly about pizza toppings and movie plans. I hesitated, unsure of my place in this world.

"Y/n?" Minjeong's voice caught my attention. She stood at the front of the room, her gaze hesitant but inviting. "You coming to pizza night?"

The question hung in the air, a test of the fragile thread that still connected us. My heart pounded in my chest. This could be a step forward, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between us. Or it could be a painful reminder of how far things had changed.

I looked at Minjeong, her eyes filled with a nervous anticipation that mirrored my own. Taking a deep breath, I offered a smile, the same shy smile we used to share in elementary school.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little rough around the edges. "I'd like that."

A genuine smile, bright and unreserved, broke across Minjeong's face. It was a small step, a single word in a long conversation, but for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of student council meetings and new friendships, there was still a place for us, for the bond we once shared.

Stepping into the bustling pizza parlor, I was greeted by the aroma of melted cheese and bubbling tomato sauce. Minjeong's friends, a vibrant bunch I only recognized from school hallways, were already digging into their slices, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tense atmosphere of the meeting earlier.

Minjeong, perched at the end of a long table, her cheeks flushed with a hint of nervous excitement, spotted me. A radiant smile broke across her face, chasing away the serious leader persona from before. She patted the seat next to her, a silent invitation.

As I settled in, a chorus of curious glances and playful nudges fell upon me. A girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin leaned forward.

"So, Y/n," she began, her voice dripping with friendly interrogation, "how long have you known our Minjeong? Spill the secrets of your epic friendship!"

A wave of heat flooded Minjeong's cheeks, her cheeks turning the color of the pepperoni slices on the table. She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, burying her face in her pizza slice. I chuckled, the sound warming the air.

"Well Actually," I said, taking a bite of my own pizza, "we go way back. All the way back to elementary school."

A collective gasp escaped the group. Stories of elementary school crushes and childhood sweethearts circulated with wide-eyed wonder. Seeing Minjeong squirm under the spotlight only endeared her to me even more.

"She was this shy little thing," I continued, my voice filled with a smile, "always hiding behind her art folders. I just decided she needed a friend and dragged her into all sorts of adventures."

Minjeong peeked at me over her pizza slice, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of shyness and amusement. My heart stuttered in my chest. Even after all this time, her gaze still held the power to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"And did those adventures include falling head over heels for each other?" one of the guys piped up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The question hung heavy in the air. A long silence stretched, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation. I met Minjeong's gaze, a silent conversation unfolding between us.

"I…," I hesitated, taking a deep breath. "The truth is, Minjeong has always been special to me. Ever since that first day in elementary school, there was something about her. Her quiet strength, her kindness, her way of seeing the world through those incredible eyes."

Minjeong's entire face turned crimson, her lips forming a silent "wow." The rest of the table, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, remained silent, their eyes shifting between us with anticipation.

"And you, Y/n?" Minjeong finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "Do you still feel the same way?"

"More than you know," I said, my voice sincere. "Seeing you all grown up, this amazing leader everyone admires… it just makes me realize how much I care about you."

The moment stretched, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, with a roar of approval, Minjeong's friends erupted in cheers.

"Oh my god, you guys are perfect for each other!"

"Finally! It was about time someone confessed!"

Minjeong, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst, hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a mixture of shyness and laughter. My own heart pounded with a mixture of hope and disbelief. Could this really be happening?

As the cheers subsided, a shy smile peeked out from behind Minjeong's hands. Looking at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it fear? Joy? Relief?

"Well, Y/n," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems like you spilled the biggest secret of all."

I grinned, leaning closer. "Only the one I felt was most important."

The rest of the night was a blur of happy chatter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The seeds of doubt I'd harbored for weeks began to fade, replaced by a warm flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the changing tides of high school, our childhood connection could blossom into something more. As we walked home under the soft glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn't over yet.

As we strolled away from the pizza parlor, the streetlights cast soft yellow pools on the sidewalk. The air was thick with the unspoken words that hung between us. Finally, Minjeong broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper.

"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you… hate me?"

The question struck me like a physical blow. Hate her? The girl who had been my closest companion, my confidante? It was a ridiculous notion.

"Why would I hate you?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.

"For everything," she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "For how I treated you these past three years. For being so cold and distant."

I stopped walking, turning to face her. Minjeong's face was illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Minjeong-Ah, listen to me," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You were focused on school, student council, all those responsibilities. It's natural. You've become this amazing leader, kind and strong. I could never hate you for that."

She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But you must have felt so alone. Like I replaced you."

"It wasn't like that," I assured her, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. "It just… it's a shame we drifted apart. I miss the talks we used to have, the silly jokes, the shared dreams."

A sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in my chest. Tears soaked through my shirt as she held onto me for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," she cried, her voice muffled against my chest. "I'm such an idiot. Seo-Ah is great, and I'm happy she has a friend, but… but you're different. You've always been different."

My heart ached for her, for the pain she had unknowingly inflicted. "Seo-Ah's a friend," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "But you, Minjeong… you're so much more."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "More?"

"We grew up together," I continued, my voice soft. "We shared secrets, dreams, a lifetime of memories. Seo-Ah may be a new chapter, but you… you're the whole book."

Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent apology. "I-i messed up," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "The thought of losing you to someone else… it scared me to death. But I was too scared to admit it, too scared to even talk to you."

Understanding dawned on me. Her coldness, her distance, it was all a misguided attempt to protect herself from the possibility of losing our bond. The irony wasn't lost on me – her actions had almost achieved the very outcome she feared.

Enfolding her in a hug once more, I whispered into her hair, "It's okay, Minjeong. We can start over. Together."

Her body trembled against mine, a mixture of relief and hope washing over her. The night was filled with apologies, whispered confessions, and the bittersweet promise of a new beginning. We walked hand in hand, not as childhood friends, but as something more, something that transcended labels. We walked, not just towards her house, but towards a future we would write together, a future where communication replaced silence, and where the warmth of our friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful.

The walk to Minjeong's house felt different under the soft glow of the streetlights. The air, once thick with unspoken words, now crackled with a nervous energy, a budding promise. As we reached her doorstep, the weight of the emotional rollercoaster we'd just been on settled in.

Minjeong, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears, looked at me with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Would you… would you like to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Staying the night at her place felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Was it too soon? Yet, the thought of leaving her on such a vulnerable note felt unbearable.

"I… I don't know," I stammered, unsure of the protocol for such a situation.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

My resolve crumbled. How could I say no to those tear-filled eyes, to the raw vulnerability she was displaying? "Okay," I sighed, offering her a weak smile. "I'll stay."

Relief washed over her face, a radiant smile replacing the tear tracks. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and ushering me inside.

The familiar scent of her home, a mixture of lavender and something vaguely sweet, instantly transported me back to our childhood sleepovers. As I entered her bedroom, the floodgates of nostalgia opened.

The walls were adorned with a tapestry of our shared history – a photo of us grinning goofily at a carnival, a drawing we'd made together during a rainy afternoon, a faded ticket stub from that time we snuck into a movie. Every picture, every memento, whispered of a friendship that had weathered storms, unspoken yet understood.

A choked sob escaped Minjeong's lips as she noticed my gaze tracing the memories on the wall. "It's… it's like a museum in here," she sniffled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I walked over to her, my heart overflowing with a cocktail of emotions. "It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch a photo of us on our first day of elementary school. "A reminder of everything we've been through."

Minjeong's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As if making a sudden decision, she began to slowly undress, her movements filled with a nervous anticipation.

Shock momentarily paralyzed me. "Minjeong-Ah?" I stammered, unsure of how to interpret her actions.

She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a newfound courage. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I know this might seem crazy, but… all this time, all I ever wanted was you."

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken desires. Before I could respond, she leaned in, hesitantly at first, then with a growing sense of urgency. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and filled with a desperate longing.

It was a kiss that tasted of tearful apologies, unspoken confessions, and the bittersweet joy of a rekindled connection. In that kiss, we bridged the gap of lost years, the unspoken words replaced by a silent promise of a future we would write together.

Pulling away, breathless and a little dazed, we stared into each other's eyes. They held a newfound depth, a reflection of the emotions we had shared.

"Minjeong-Ah," I finally managed to breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "I… I thought I'd lost you."

"Me too," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. "But we're here now, Y/n. And this time," she continued, a determined glint in her eyes, "I'm not letting go."

Hearing those words, I immediately kissed her again. This time with so much passion and hunger to love her even more. minjeong share to play with my tounge,Something that I didn't know she would ever learned.

"M-minjeong-Ah.. You're so pretty". I blurted out, My words of praise basically flies out on its own. Minjeong blushes, Before planting another kiss to my lips. Her soft and plump lips, a cushion to my own.

"I-i want to try it... I-i want to do it with you Y/n". Minjeong blushes, Her hands touching the entrance of her now wet pussy. I blushed deeply, Not expecting that we'll come this far.

But I now know, that we are meant for each other. We both loved each other. I promised, I would never let her down anymore. I would love her with all of my heart.

"I-i'm putting it in Minjeong-Ah. Tell me if it hurts okay"? I gently caresses her face. As I started to slowly thrust my dick into her pussy, Minjeong immediately moaned, Her body trembling, as her hole started to widen, and not long after that. I have successfully inserted my whole dick deep into her pussy. As her hymen broke, Blood soon come out. I panicked, Asking Minjeong if she's alright.

She seemed to be trembling, and crying. I tried to pull back. But minjeong yelled "Noo.. Don't pull it out... I-i can handle it".

I hesitated, I didn't want this experience to hurt her. I explained it to her, that she doesn't need to force herself, and we can take it slowly. But to my suprise, Minjeong push me back, before straddling me.

"No.. No.. I want this.. I need this... Please don't leave me Y/n... I can handle this.. So please... caressing my face let me pleasure you". I immediately blushed hearing those words coming from her mouth. In the end I nodded, Letting her know I'll do it.

Minjeong started to move her hips slowly, Adjusting to the pain and pleasure that her body is currently having. And after a while, She finally found her pace and started to move faster and faster. We both moaned at how good this feels, And I just can't help but to admire her fit body, and her beautiful pair of tits.

"I-i know it's not the biggest... B-but.. Please love them". Minjeong blushes, as she turns her head around. I giggled before planting a kiss to her tits. Admiring them for how perfect they were. Mineong immediately smiled, Before planting another kiss to my lips.

After a while, I felt like I was near to reach my orgasm. As I saw Minjeong Continue swaying her hips, Something took over me and I gently put Minjeong into a missionary position. Minjeong legs immediately craddled surrounding my body, as her legs tightened. Her hand gripped the back of my body, As I kept on kissing her heck.

"Y/n!!! Y/n.. I'm close.. Fuck.. I'm so close..". Minjeong cried, as The pleasure was too much for the both of us. I told her that I'm also close.

"Shoot it inside me... I-it's okay... I want it..".

"W-whatt! No we can't... It's too dangerous minjeong... I'll shoot it outside".

"Noooo.. Please... I want your cum... Please... ".

As minjeong kept begging, and as I closely reached my limit. I can't help but to shoot my seed deep within her womb. As I did this, Minjeong moaned and tightly held me. Our body trembled in pleasure, and we finally reached our euphoria together.

After panting a while, We both Chukled before kissing each other for the last time, as we finally fell asleep. We held each other close, our bodies radiating a warmth that chased away the chill of the night. The room filled with the sound of our gentle breaths and the soft thudding of our hearts, a symphony of rediscovered love and a promise of a future where childhood friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful and everlasting.

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting golden stripes across Minjeong's face. She stirred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Glancing beside her, she found me still nestled in the sheets, the events of last night replaying vividly in her mind. A blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered the passionate confessions and rekindled love that had blossomed under her very roof.

"Y/n," she whispered, nudging me gently. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

I groaned playfully, pulling the covers over my head for a moment longer. "Five more minutes?" I mumbled, the warmth of the sheets and the memory of Minjeong close beside me making it hard to leave.

She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Not a chance, sleepyhead. We have a whole day of classes and stolen glances ahead of us."

Her words were a sweet melody to my ears. Sitting up, I stretched, my gaze lingering on her. "Thank you, Minjeong-Ah," I said, my voice husky with sleep and unspoken emotions.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For everything," I replied, cupping her face in my hands and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the renewed connection we shared.

The morning unfolded in a whirlwind of hurried breakfasts, stolen kisses in between brushing teeth, and nervous excitement as we walked to school together, hand in hand. As we reached our classroom, I was met with a concerned Seo-Ah, her eyes wide with worry.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "Where have you been? I texted and called you a million times; I was scared something happened!"

My heart twinged with a pang of guilt. Seo-Ah's genuine concern warmed me, and I realized how much I valued our friendship. With a sheepish grin, I turned to Minjeong, taking her hand in mine.

"Seo-Ah," I began, my voice laced with a newfound confidence, "there's something I need to tell you. Minjeong and I… we're a couple now."

Seo-Ah's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of sadness flitting across her face for a fleeting moment. But then, a genuine smile bloomed on her lips.

"Oh wow," she said, her voice filled with unexpected joy. "Congratulations, you two! I always thought you had a special connection."

Relief flooded me. I was worried how Seo-Ah would react, but her understanding and well-wishes warmed the air.

The rest of the day was a blur of excited whispers from classmates, stolen glances across the classroom, and the thrill of a newfound love. After school, Minjeong and I decided to celebrate. We walked hand-in-hand down a street lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink petals showering us like confetti.

"This feels like a dream," Minjeong whispered, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"A dream I never want to wake up from," I replied, squeezing her hand.

We stopped at a quaint ice cream shop, the aroma of sweet waffle cones wafting through the air. We ordered our favorite flavors, sharing bites and laughing like children. As we savored the cool treat, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected detours lead us to the sweetest destinations.

Looking into Minjeong's eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within them, I knew that our story was far from over. It was a story of friendship, of rediscovery, and of a love that had weathered the storms of time and finally blossomed into something beautiful. And as we walked into the sunset, hand in hand, with the promise of forever etched in our hearts, I knew this was just the beginning of our happily ever after.

The End

A/n : Hey Guys, Elryuse here. just want to say, This is probably one of my favorite stories/fics that I've ever written so far. The characterization of Winter/Minjeong really fit in this story. But I have to say, Justice for the Seo-Ah man. Initially, In my first draft of the story, Seo-Ah would be a contender for Winter, However while I was writing, I think this is for the best. So I settled for her losing quicker in the story.

And I wanted to apologize to some of you guys, who have requested for a fics, But I'm currently focusing my priority for my ko-fi fans and for people who ordered fics personally. But don't be sad, I would still definitely do some of your requests y'all. Hope you enjoyed this story guys. 🤗

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whitebookposts · 6 days ago

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"Embarrassing memories"

Bretta just can't escape this, it seems

Back to Hollow Knight posting! I missed this little au so much

(needless to say: please DO NOT tag as ship between Bretta nd Hollow. This is just a silly comic exploring Bretta's innocent childhood crush that naturally never ever turned to anything serious because a. Hollow is much, much older than Bretta, with a problematic age gap between them in this au. b. Bretta is aromantic in my headcanons. c. Hollow is also on the aro spectrum.)

transcript under the cut:

First panel: Hornet: this is my sibling Hollow! They don't talk, but they are very strong!

Second panel: Bretta: WO-AH...

Fourth panel: Bretta: Out of ALL the things you could have remembered about me... THIS is what you did? Hornet: Seems like your tastes hadn't changed since then- Bretta: HORNET!!!

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theoneandonlylobster · 2 months ago

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My Big Damn Ashes of the Academy Thoughts

Okay so honestly I just need to take this panel by panel because frankly my overall impression of the comic is that everyone got replaced Invasion of the Body Snatchers style with people that look the same as they do and have the same name, but have zero idea of the backgrounds or motivations of said characters, and so they were just making shit up as they went along. Like, I write fanfic, I read fanfic. I have, in general, a pretty high regard for fanfic. And of course one of the more common Dangerous Ladies childhood type fics is how did they meet, why are these three very different individuals friends, etc etc.

And this was not even approaching the worst, crappiest, least coherent of that type of fiction I've read over the last nearly two decades.

Ashes of the Academy is a giant nothing burger comic, a fart in an elevator you're trapped with until you can make your escape.

So, without further ado, let's begin:

So right here on the second page of the comic, and the first page with dialogue, we have Ursa letting us know that, apparently, contrary to what we know, the Academy made Azula a bad person. Not her parents, definitely definitely not Ursa. You got that? It was all the Academy's fault. And we will continue beating that ostrich horse the entire rest of the comic, make no mistake!

Ah yes, Ursa, noted Not Ever An Imperialist At All, Not Even Once, Nuh-Uh.

Skipping several pages that would be me saying these two things multiple times...

Credit where credit is due, I like these two panels. I like this tiny glimpse into the friendship of Kiyi and Lihua or whatever here. One, because I imagine this is more like how Azula probably actually was, based on what we see in Zuko Alone. And two, that means Kiyi is unconsciously mirroring her sister and I like that interpretation of her character. It seems that Hicks does too, on a subconscious level. Look at that devious little look on her face! Little shit. Yeah, you cause a ruckus! Adorable.

I'd be lying if I said this didn't get a chuckle out of me. Is Katara on Zuko's Ministry of Education? Lol wtf. Still funny though.

More Kiyi being a little shit that I can get behind. This time in a Little Miss Know-It-All superiority complex sense that I'm sure would get real old real fast for anyone around her.

I've pointed this out on another post but Kiyi isn't a princess? Wtf? Come on, Hicks. Like it's not hard to figure this shit out. I think giving her a character trait of literally running to her big brother the Firelord anytime she feels slighted is pretty good, but of course it's never explored, because that's not a heroic trait and Kiyi has to be a hero for some reason unlike that irredeemable monster Azula who was born bad.

So nice of you to ask her first Zuko! Fuck's sake! Being Firelord has really gotten to this boy's head, like I know he has absolute power and all that shit but damn, if I was Mai, I would be wanting to get back with him less after this, not more, regardless of whether or not I liked the job in the end. Fucking consent, bro! (Previous page has him telling the headmistress she'll do it.) Unfortunately, this is actually not ooc for what we've seen of Zuko, honestly, imo. Mai, you can do so much better. Like, I ship Maiko. I love their dynamic etc etc. But girl. Respect yourself. This boy is NOT it at this point.

This is our continuing indication that they'll be rewriting the past in this comic, and we'd all better get on board. Zuko certainly thinks Azula treated him badly and has a very, "Zuko did nothing wrong!" approach to it all, but Mai was there for the vast majority of it, witnessed it with her own two eyes, so she would not react to that sentence with, "True." She just wouldn't. At least not the Mai we know. So let the assassination of Mai’s character commence!

Like, was this comic so half-assed nobody could be bothered to look up the spelling of Ukano's name? Yes. Yes it was.

Can I be made to believe Ukano said this to Mai when she was smol? Absolutely, yes. He's portrayed as a social climber and willing to utilize basically any route he can access to gain clout and influence. That's a man who is not above using his daughter in this way. I think it's somewhat implied by Mai’s dialogue in The Beach, even. Dude was a shitty father, Caldera was rife with them. Do I believe for one second Mai became friends with Azula because of this counsel? Absolutely not. The Mai we know thinks for herself 100% of the time, it's basically her thing.

Oh, cool, there's a 10 image per post limit. Well. I'll keep going in reblogs and indicate when I'm done. Bear with me, friends.

#avatar #atla #ashes of the academy #ashes of the academy spoilers #ashes of the academy review #ursa #zuko #kiyi #katara #mai #mai x zuko #maiko #ukano #azula #atla meta #bryke critical #faith hicks

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velvetvisionsaurora · 1 month ago

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Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her.Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) mxm

Authors Note: If you read Forbidden Harmony then you’ll already know my dad recently passed away, so I haven’t been writing a whole lot, I’ve been going back and re reading and getting back in the groove of everything. So thank you all for being patient 💜

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Masterlist

Chapter 17

The Welcome Feast

The afternoon sun had already begun its descent toward the horizon when Y/n returned to her room to prepare for Wooyoung's promised feast. On her bed lay a garment she hadn't noticed earlier—a dress of midnight blue silk that shimmered with subtle gold thread worked into delicate patterns resembling constellations.

A note rested atop the fabric in Seonghwa's precise handwriting: "For tonight. The seamstress worked through the morning to adjust it to your measurements. I hope it suits you - S."

Y/n ran her fingers over the exquisite craftsmanship, marveling at how quickly Seonghwa had managed to procure and alter such a fine garment. The dress fit perfectly, with a fitted bodice and full skirt, but the neckline had been tailored lower than usual, daring yet still within the bounds of propriety.

After years of wearing simple, serviceable clothing designed to help her blend into the background, the thought of wearing something so beautiful—something chosen specifically for her—felt both thrilling and slightly intimidating. She lifted the dress, holding it against herself as she turned to the mirror.

A knock at her door drew her attention. "It's Yeosang," came the familiar voice. "May I come in?"

"Of course, Angel," she called, using the childhood nickname that still felt natural after all these years.

Yeosang entered carrying a small wooden box. "I thought you might appreciate some assistance preparing," he said, his professional mask softening as he saw the dress in her hands. "Ah, so Seonghwa's gift arrived."

"He didn't have to do this," Y/n said softly, admiring the fabric once more.

"With Seonghwa, everything has precise purpose," Yeosang replied, setting his box on her vanity. "This is his way of marking the occasion—and perhaps reclaiming moments that were stolen from you."

The insight touched her deeply. Where others might see only extravagance, Yeosang recognized the deeper symbolism in Seonghwa's gesture—a deliberate effort to provide experiences that fifteen years of captivity had denied her.

"I brought salves for your back," Yeosang continued. "They'll help with mobility and comfort in fitted clothing. And—" he opened the box to reveal delicate glass vials, "—some cosmetics, if you wish. Nothing elaborate, but things that might make you feel... yourself."

The thoughtfulness behind the offering created a lump in Y/n's throat. These weren't tools of transformation meant to make her more appealing to others, but simple enhancements that might help her recognize herself after years of suppression.

With Yeosang's familiar, gentle assistance, Y/n prepared for the evening—childhood patterns of care reestablished without awkwardness. He helped her into the dress, careful to avoid aggravating her still-healing scars, then assisted with her hair and the subtle application of cosmetics that enhanced rather than masked her features.

When she finally turned to view herself in the full-length mirror, Y/n barely recognized the woman looking back. Not because the dress or cosmetics had dramatically altered her appearance, but because the person in the reflection carried herself differently—head high, shoulders back, eyes bright with something that looked remarkably like happiness.

"Beautiful," Yeosang said quietly, genuine appreciation in his tone. "And more importantly, you look comfortable. Like yourself."

A soft knock announced the arrival of someone else. "It's Yunho," came the gentle voice. "Wooyoung asked me to escort you when you're ready."

Y/n smiled at Yeosang. "Thank you, Angel. For everything."

He inclined his head with characteristic grace. "I should check on our patient before dinner. Enjoy your evening, Y/n."

The use of her true name still felt like a gift each time she heard it from one of them. As Yeosang departed, she opened the door to find Yunho waiting, his appearance transformed by formal attire that emphasized his impressive height and natural elegance.

His eyes widened as he took in her appearance, genuine appreciation written across his features. "You look stunning," he said softly, offering his arm. "I suspect several hearts may stop when you enter the dining room."

"Only several?" Y/n teased, accepting his arm as confidence she hadn't felt in years began to emerge.

Yunho's warm laugh echoed in the hallway. "Perhaps I underestimate the effect. Shall we find out?"

As they descended the grand staircase, voices drifted from the formal dining room—Wooyoung's theatrical exclamations mingling with San's laughter and Jongho's more measured tones. The conversation stilled as Y/n and Yunho appeared, a collective intake of breath marking the moment.

Hongjoong stood from his place at the head of the table, his usual composed expression giving way to something more primal as his eyes traced over her. Seonghwa rose as well, satisfaction and heat mingling in his gaze as he noted how perfectly the dress suited her. Even Mingi, still pale from his injury but determined to join the feast, straightened in his chair with obvious appreciation.

“She’s HERE!” he announced, throwing his arms wide with theatrical enthusiasm before stopping abruptly, his expression transformed by genuine awe as he fully took in her appearance. “Oh… my… stars,” he breathed.

Hongjoong moved to meet her at the foot of the stairs, offering his hand with courtly grace that belied the intensity in his eyes.

"You take my breath away," he murmured for her ears alone. His gaze lingered on the bare curves of her shoulders, the way the silk clung to her waist before flowing freely to the floor. “Seonghwa’s taste was always impeccable, but this… this is perfection.”

Seonghwa, his usually composed expression briefly unguarded as his gaze traced the lines of the dress he’d commissioned. His eyes lingered on the way the silk hugged her waist before flowing to the floor, the slight parting of his lips and the flush rising along his neck betraying the precision of his thoughts far better than words could have.

“The measurements are perfect,” he said softly, his voice carrying a slight roughness that contradicted his clinical observation. “Better than I could have hoped.”

From his seat at the table, Yunho stared openly, his gentle features transformed by unmistakable desire as he took in the bare curve of her shoulders and the way the dress made her eyes appear even more luminous. Unlike his usual shyness, there was nothing hesitant in his gaze now—only open, honest hunger that sent a thrill of awareness down Y/n’s spine.

“You look like the night sky come to life,” he said, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. “Every star I’ve ever shown you, captured in one perfect form.”

Mingi, usually so economical with both movement and expression, leaned forward despite his injury, dark eyes intent as they moved over her with deliberate appreciation. Though his face remained more controlled than the others, the intensity of his focus spoke volumes, as did the slight tightening of his fingers around his glass.

“Worth every stitch,” he declared with characteristic brevity, though the heat in his gaze transformed the simple statement into something far more profound.

Even Jongho and San, who hadn’t known her as a child, seemed momentarily transfixed—the younger crew members’ expressions a mixture of appreciation and a kind of pleased satisfaction, as if her transformation represented some personal victory for them as well.

“Well,” Wooyoung finally broke the charged silence, finding his theatrical voice again, “if there was any doubt that our collective taste is absolutely IMPECCABLE, it has been thoroughly dispelled! Look at you! That color against your skin! The way it moves when you breathe! The perfect complement to your eyes!” He spun toward Seonghwa with dramatic accusation. “I take back at least seventy-three percent of my complaints about your obsessive attention to detail, you precise, perfectionist genius!”

The room erupted in laughter, breaking the moment of suspended awe without diminishing the appreciation still evident in every gaze.

“Come in, come in!” Wooyoung urged, gesturing expansively. “The feast awaits, and I’ve threatened San and Jongho with their lives if they touch a single morsel before you’re properly seated and served!”

The dining room was magnificent in the warm glow of countless candles, the table laden with dishes that testified to Wooyoung's culinary expertise. Crystal glasses caught the light, and fresh flowers from the garden adorned every available surface. It was clear that no detail had been overlooked in creating this celebration.

As they settled into their seats, Hongjoong poured wine into her glass himself—a gesture that spoke of intimacy rather than mere courtesy. "To finding what was lost," he proposed, raising his glass. "And to new beginnings."

The toast was echoed around the table, each man's eyes finding Y/n's as they drank. The weight of their collective attention might have overwhelmed her once, but now it felt like belonging—recognition rather than scrutiny.

Conversation flowed naturally as course after course emerged from the kitchen, each dish accompanied by Wooyoung's dramatic presentation and stories of its origins. San and Jongho contributed their own tales of maintaining the estate during the officers' absences, while Yunho and Mingi offered quieter observations that drew Y/n into the easy camaraderie.

Throughout the meal, Hongjoong's attention remained subtly focused on her even as he participated in the wider conversation. His thigh pressed against hers beneath the table—a point of contact that seemed accidental yet deliberate. As Wooyoung launched into a particularly theatrical description of his adventures acquiring rare spices, Hongjoong's hand slipped beneath the tablecloth to rest on her knee.

The touch, hidden from view yet intentional in its placement, sent a shiver through Y/n's body. She maintained her composure, continuing to listen to Wooyoung's story even as Hongjoong's fingers began tracing small circles against the silk of her skirt.

"Of course," Wooyoung continued, oblivious to the subtle tension building at the head of the table, "the merchant SWORE his pepper was from the southern archipelago, but I could tell immediately it was common mainland product. The AUDACITY!"

Hongjoong's hand moved higher, gathering the fabric of her skirt as it traveled up her leg. His expression remained perfectly composed as he commented on Wooyoung's tale, but his eyes held hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.

The contrast between their proper positions at the formal table and the hidden intimacy of his touch created an intoxicating tension. Around them, conversation and laughter continued unabated, the other officers either unaware of or politely ignoring the subtle game being played.

Y/n took a deliberate sip of wine, maintaining her outward composure even as heat pooled low in her belly. This wasn't the desperate passion of her encounter with Seonghwa or the playful exploration with Wooyoung—it was something else entirely, control and desire balanced on a knife's edge.

"You're remarkably quiet, Y/n," Seonghwa observed from across the table, his dark eyes noting everything though his tone remained perfectly proper. "I hope our resident chef's dramatics haven't overwhelmed you?"

The question drew attention her way, forcing her to respond even as Hongjoong's fingers traced patterns against her inner thigh. "Not at all," she managed, proud of how steady her voice remained. "I find his enthusiasm quite refreshing."

Hongjoong's lips curved slightly at her successful deflection, his hand rewarding her composure by moving higher still. The game continued throughout the remaining courses—hidden touches and shared glances beneath the veneer of proper dinner conversation.

By the time dessert arrived—a tower of delicate pastries filled with cream and honey—the tension between them had built to an almost unbearable level. Hongjoong's fingers had reached the juncture of her thighs, pressing against her through the fabric with deliberate pressure that made concentration increasingly difficult.

"Captain," San called from the far end of the table, "didn't you promise to show us the new charts after dinner?"

Hongjoong withdrew his hand slowly, his fingers trailing down her leg as he turned to address San. "Indeed I did," he replied with perfect composure. "Though perhaps we should allow our guest to retire first? It's been a long day."

"Nonsense!" Wooyoung declared. "The night is young, and I have cordials to share! Y/n must experience the full range of our hospitality!"

The cook's enthusiasm was infectious, and Y/n found herself swept along as the party moved to the sitting room where comfortable chairs and sofas surrounded a massive fireplace. Wooyoung produced bottles of amber liquid, pouring generous measures for everyone while regaling them with questionable tales of how he'd acquired such rare spirits.

As the evening progressed and inhibitions lowered, the atmosphere grew increasingly warm and intimate. Y/n found herself passed from one conversation to another—discussing astronomy with Yunho, examining new design sketches with Mingi, laughing at San and Jongho's competitive storytelling.

Through it all, she remained aware of Hongjoong's presence, his dark eyes following her movements with predatory patience. The anticipation built with each shared glance, each "accidental" touch as they moved about the room.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight and the others began to show signs of retiring, Hongjoong approached her directly. "Walk with me?" he asked, offering his hand. "The gardens are particularly beautiful by moonlight."

Y/n accepted, knowing this invitation promised more than starlit paths and night-blooming flowers. As they slipped through the terrace doors into the cool night air, leaving behind the warmth and laughter of the sitting room, she felt neither fear nor hesitation—only anticipation for what the night might bring.

The game that had begun beneath the dinner table would find its conclusion in the moonlit gardens, where shadows and starlight created their own kind of privacy. For tonight was indeed a celebration—not just of freedom found or promises fulfilled, but of choices freely made and desires openly pursued.

The garden paths wound through carefully tended beds of night-blooming flowers, their pale petals luminous in the moonlight. Hongjoong guided her with a hand at the small of her back, the heat of his touch burning through the silk of her dress.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached a staircase at the end of the path. Hongjoong led her up to a balcony, and opened a set of double door that led into his room.

His chambers reflected the man himself—elegant yet practical, with maps covering one wall and books filling floor-to-ceiling shelves on another. A large desk dominated one corner, while a sitting area near the fireplace offered more intimate space. The bed, a massive four-poster draped in dark fabrics, occupied its own alcove.

“Drink?” Hongjoong asked, moving to a cabinet where crystal decanters caught the lamplight.

“Trying to get me intoxicated, Joongie?” Y/n teased, emboldened by the evening’s wine and the heat that had been building between them since dinner.

His answering smile held wicked promise. “Merely prolonging the anticipation, Treasure.”

The nickname—her childhood endearment spoken in his deeper, adult voice—sent a shiver through her. She accepted the glass he offered, their fingers brushing in deliberate contact.

“To patience rewarded,” she proposed, surprising herself with her boldness.

“To us,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. They clinked glasses, the sound echoing in the quiet room. As they drank, their eyes never left each other, the tension between them building with every passing second.

Y/n set her glass down on the desk, her fingers trailing over the edge of a map. “All these years of searching,” she mused, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “Was I worth the wait?”

Hongjoong’s glass hit the desk with a soft thud. In three swift strides, he was in front of her, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed her back against the wall. His body was warm and solid against hers, his breath hot on her skin.

“Every second,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion.

His lips crashed into hers, the kiss deep and demanding, as if he were trying to pour every moment of longing into that single touch. Y/n’s hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, her body arching into his.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. Hongjoong rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’ve always been worth it,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re my treasure. My everything.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at his words. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “Joongie,” she breathed, her voice soft but full of emotion. “I’ve waited for this. For you.”

His eyes darkened, and he kissed her again, slower this time but no less intense. His hands moved to the ties of her dress, his fingers deftly undoing the laces. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her exposed to the cool air—and to his heated gaze.

Hongjoong stepped back slightly, his eyes roaming over her with a reverence that made her blush. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He reached out, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the line of her collarbone, the swell of her breast. His touch was gentle but deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of her.

Y/n shivered under his gaze, her hands moving to his shirt. “Let me see you,” she murmured, her voice trembling with need. She tugged at the fabric, and he helped her, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Her breath caught at the sight of him—his chest broad and strong, his skin warm and inviting. She pressed her palms against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his hands returning to her waist as he backed her toward the bed. When her knees hit the edge of the mattress, he guided her down, following her until he hovered above her. His lips found hers again, the kiss slow and deep, a promise of what was to come. His hands explored her body, mapping every curve, every dip, as if he wanted to commit her to memory.

Hongjoong’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “Then let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice a promise. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled back, his eyes searched hers. “Tell me if anything feels too much, or if you want me to stop.”

“I will,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.

He kissed her again, his lips moving to her jaw, then down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands slid up her sides, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just beneath her breasts. She gasped, her back arching slightly as pleasure shot through her.

“Hongjoong,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m here,” he murmured against her skin, his voice a soothing rumble. He kissed his way down her chest, his lips closing over one nipple while his thumb brushed the other. She cried out, her hands gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. He moved to the other breast, his tongue teasing her nipple until she was writhing beneath him. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Of you.”

Y/n’s heart swelled at his words, her chest tightening with emotion. “Hongjoong,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I’ve dreamed of you too.”

He kissed his way down her stomach, his hands sliding to her hips as he settled between her legs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with need but filled with an unmistakable tenderness. “Can I?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. “Please.”

He kissed the inside of her thigh, his lips soft and warm against her skin. She shivered, her body tensing with anticipation. When his tongue finally found her most sensitive spot, she gasped, her hands flying to his hair. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through her.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, her back arching off the bed. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, each stroke building the pressure inside her. She could feel herself unraveling, her body trembling with need.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured against her, his voice low and rough. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he continued to pleasure her.

Y/n gripped the sheets, head tilting back in pleasure. She felt a hard smack on the outside of her thigh causing her to let out a yelp. She quickly looked down to see Hongjoongs eyes on her, his eyes conveying so much heat and emotion it took her breath away.

“Eyes on me,” Hongjoong said huskily as he continued his assault on her clit. His eyes never leaving hers, an act that made the situation more intimate than she thought possible.

When his fingers slipped inside her, Y/n started to close her eyes at the sensation. An act that earn a quick bite to the inside of her thigh.

“Stop disobeying, Treasure.” He smirked as he he kissed his way up her body, his lips soft against her skin.

“Sorry,” Y/n said breathlessly.

Hongjoong chuckled as he watched her, leaning down into a heated kiss.

Y/n could taste herself on him, the intimacy of it making her heart race. He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locking onto hers as he entered her in one smooth motion. They both gasped, the sensation overwhelming. He paused, giving her time to adjust, his forehead resting against hers.

“Fuck Treasure,” Hongjoong moaned.

“Please, Joongie please,” She begged, earning a smirk from him.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one drawing a moan from her lips. The rhythm they found was perfect, a dance of bodies and souls. His hands intertwined with hers, pinning them above her head as he kissed her again, swallowing her cries of pleasure. The intensity built between them, their connection deepening with every movement.

“You’re mine,” he growled against her neck, his voice possessive yet tender. “Ours. Always”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching into his. Hongjoongs words should have caused a panic after being owned like a possession, however it brought nothing but comfort to her knowing she belonged to them. “Hongjoong, I—”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a low, commanding whisper. “I’ve got you.”

She did, her body convulsing around him as she cried out his name. He followed her, his release a low, guttural groan against her neck. He collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms as they both caught their breath. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her skin, his lips brushing her forehead in a tender kiss.

“You all are going to ruin me,” Y/n laughed, still trying to control her breathing.

Hongjoong chuckled into her hair. “Wait until Mingi and Yunho get ahold of you.”

“I can handle Yuyu and Puppy,” Y/n said confidently, earning another chuckle from him.

“At the same time?” Hongjoong said with a quirk of his brow.

Y/n whipped her head around to look at him. “Wh-what?”

“Not my business to tell Treasure, but you might be under estimating how close they actually are. How any of us are.” He said smiling as he closed his eyes. “Sleep.” Hongjoong commanded.

“What?” Y/n said sitting up on her elbow to look at him. “No, no you can’t say that and expect me to-” Y/n let out yelp as Hongjoong’s hand landed a smack on her ass.

He quirked an eyebrow as he peeked and eye open to look at her. “I said sleep, Treasure. You’ll need rest to deal with Wooyoung’s questions tomorrow.”

Y/n playfully pouted laying her head on his chest.

“Joongie?” She murmured.

“Mhm” Hongjoong hummed sleepily.

“I love you.” She said in almost a whisper. She felt Hongjoong’s body stiffen before relaxing and pulling her closer.

“I love you too my Treasure.” He kissed her head as they both fell into a restful sleep.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Wooyoung was engaged in his own form of theater—the dramatic aftermath of culinary genius, complete with exaggerated sighs and elaborate gestures of martyrdom as he tackled the mountain of dishes from the evening’s feast.

“ABANDONED!” he declared to no one in particular, though Yeosang sat calmly at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. “Left to TOIL in SOLITUDE while our illustrious captain enjoys the fruits of MY culinary labor! Did you SEE how they looked at each other? My food did that! My ARTISTRY created the atmosphere for romance!”

He plunged his hands into the soapy water with theatrical resignation. “And where is my appreciation? Where is MY romantic moonlit stroll? Instead, I have DISHES and a medical officer who refuses to assist despite having perfectly functional hands!”

Yeosang sipped his tea, unmoved by the performance. “Your dishes, your responsibility,” he observed placidly. “Besides, someone needs to ensure you don’t break anything valuable in your dramatic flailing.”

“FLAILING?” Wooyoung spun around, soap suds flying from his gesticulating hands as Yeosang quirked his brow at the display.

“This is ARTISTRY IN MOTION! The same hands that created culinary masterpieces now engaged in the humble aftermath!” Wooyoung wailed

A smile tugged at the corner of Yeosang’s mouth despite his composed demeanor. “If you spent half as much energy washing as you do complaining, you’d be finished already.”

“If our ship’s doctor spent half as much energy HELPING as he does CRITICIZING, we’d BOTH be finished,” Wooyoung countered, flicking soap bubbles in Yeosang’s direction.

Their bickering held the comfortable rhythm of long practice—a dance they’d perfected over years of friendship. Despite their apparent conflict, neither would have chosen different company for the evening.

Wooyoung turned back to the dishes, his movements becoming more purposeful though no less theatrical. “You must admit, though,” he said, voice dropping to something more genuine, “it was a magnificent feast. Did you see her face when she tasted the honey sauce? That moment alone was worth every hour of preparation.”

“It was,” Yeosang agreed, his typically composed expression softening. “You outdid yourself.”

The rare compliment made Wooyoung pause, a pleased smile replacing his exaggerated pout. “Well,” he sniffed, attempting to regain his dramatic persona, “at least SOMEONE appreciates my genius.”

“I’ve always appreciated your talents,” Yeosang said mildly. “I simply refuse to inflate your already excessive ego by mentioning it too often.”

Wooyoung laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the kitchen. “So,” he continued, turning back to his task, “our captain didn’t waste any time claiming his treasure. I believe that means I’ll be collecting a substantial sum from Mingi tomorrow.”

“You were betting on this?” Yeosang asked, though his tone suggested he wasn’t actually surprised.

“Of course! What else are friends for if not to profit from their romantic entanglements?”

Wooyoung grinned over his shoulder. “Mingi insisted Hongjoong would maintain his dignified restraint until Y/n made the first move. I, however, know our captain too well to believe he’d wait another moment once she appeared in that dress.”

He set another clean plate on the drying rack. “Besides, I know you’ve been watching him at dinner. The man was practically DEVOURING her with his eyes. And whatever was happening beneath that tablecloth—”

“Some things don’t require detailed analysis,” Yeosang interrupted, though amusement tinged his voice.

“Says the medical officer who analyzes EVERYTHING,” Wooyoung teased, abandoning the dishes to drop into the chair opposite Yeosang. “Speaking of which, you’ve been unusually quiet tonight. Contemplating complex anatomical mysteries? Or perhaps just envious that the captain claimed the night with our little bird?”

Something flickered in Yeosang’s normally composed expression—a brief shadow that most would have missed, but Wooyoung had spent years learning to read his reserved friend.

“Ah,” Wooyoung said, uncharacteristically gentle. “It’s like that, is it?”

Yeosang sighed, setting down his teacup with deliberate care. “It’s… complicated.”

“Love usually is,” Wooyoung replied, dropping his theatrical manner entirely. “Especially in our unique situation.”

Yeosang’s eyes met his, surprise evident at Wooyoung’s perceptiveness. “I’ve known her longest,” he said quietly. “Years at Blackwell’s estate, watching over her, treating her injuries, becoming her only friend in that place. Even then, I—” He stopped, composing himself. “But she was just a child, as was I. And now…”

“And now she’s a woman, reconnecting with all of us in different ways,” Wooyoung finished for him. “Including our captain, from the sounds echoing through these hallowed halls.”

Yeosang winced slightly. “Must you be so crude?”

“Must you be so proper?” Wooyoung countered with affection. “This was always going to be complex, Yeo. Five men who spent fifteen years searching for a girl who became a woman none of us truly know yet. Add your separate history with her, and…” He spread his hands in a gesture that encompassed the entirety of their situation.

Yeosang sighed softly. “Even when treating her wounds all those years, she was always… more. My friend. My reason to survive each day. The one person who saw me as more than Blackwell’s property.”

The vulnerability in his confession—so rare from the typically composed doctor—created a moment of genuine connection between the friends.

“You know,” Wooyoung said thoughtfully, “in most stories, there’s only one hero who gets the girl in the end. But our story has never followed conventional patterns, has it? Five oﬃcers around one center. A compass with Y/n at its heart.”

Yeosang’s expression shifted slightly. “Mingi’s metaphor?”

“He mentioned it to her,” Wooyoung confirmed. “And it makes a certain kind of sense, doesn’t it? Each of us connected to her in different ways, each offering something the others can’t.”

“And you believe she could care for all of us? In that way?” Yeosang asked, rare uncertainty in his voice.

Wooyoung shrugged. “Why not? We’ve never been conventional pirates, have we? Why start now?” His characteristic grin returned. “Besides, she’s already forming unique bonds with each of us. Hongjoong’s leadership and passion, Seonghwa’s precision and depth, Mingi’s quiet intensity, my obvious charm and extraordinary talents—”

“Your excessive self-regard and theatrical nature, you mean,” Yeosang interjected dryly.

“EXACTLY!” Wooyoung exclaimed, delighted by the return to their usual banter. “And you, ‘Angel’—you offer the understanding that comes from shared trauma, the healing that only someone who witnessed her worst moments can provide.”

The insight, delivered amid Wooyoung’s typical dramatic flair, struck Yeosang with unexpected force. “Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” Wooyoung said, uncharacteristically serious. “You were her first protector after she lost us. Whatever happens now, that bond can’t be replaced or replicated.”

He rose, returning to the dishes with renewed energy. “Now stop brooding and help me finish these plates, or we’ll still be here when our captain and his treasure emerge for breakfast!”

Yeosang smiled, a rare full expression that transformed his usually composed features. He stood, rolling up his sleeves as he joined Wooyoung at the sink. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet you suffer me regardless,” Wooyoung replied cheerfully. “A true testament to your compassionate nature.”

As they worked side by side, comfortable in their friendship despite the complexities of their shared affections, the night deepened around the coastal estate. In various rooms, old bonds were strengthened and new connections formed—each relationship unique yet part of a greater whole, like points of a compass arranged in perfect balance around its center.

They finished the last of the dishes in companionable silence, Wooyoung’s earlier theatrics giving way to quiet efficiency. As Yeosang dried the final plate, he turned to his friend with an expression more open than his usual composed mask.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “For what? My delightful company? My profound wisdom? My extraordinary dish-washing technique?”

“For understanding,” Yeosang clarified, setting the plate carefully on the stack. “About Y/n. About everything.” He hesitated, then added with uncharacteristic vulnerability, “You know, of all the people on this ship, you’re the one I find easiest to talk to. My closest friend, I suppose.”

Wooyoung froze mid-movement, his usual animated expression giving way to genuine surprise. “I’m sorry, what was that? Did the ever-composed, perpetually dignified Kang Yeosang just admit I’m his closest friend? The same man who threatened to sedate me last month when I suggested we were practically brothers?”

A smile touched Yeosang’s lips. “Don’t make me regret my honesty.”

“Too late!” Wooyoung declared, his face lighting up with delight. He threw his dish towel dramatically over his shoulder and moved toward Yeosang with arms outstretched. “This calls for a proper embrace! A MOMENTOUS occasion!”

Yeosang stepped back, hands raised defensively. “I take it back immediately.”

“You can’t take it back!” Wooyoung insisted, advancing determinedly. “Once spoken, such profound declarations cannot be retracted! In fact—” his eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration, “—I’m going to have Mingi carve your words into a commemorative plaque! ‘On this night, Kang Yeosang admitted that Jung Wooyoung is his closest and most treasured friend, the pinnacle of companionship, the standard by which all friendships must be measured!’”

“That’s not even remotely what I said,” Yeosang protested, but a rare laugh escaped him as Wooyoung finally caught him in an exuberant embrace.

“Details, details,” Wooyoung dismissed, squeezing tightly despite Yeosang’s token resistance. “The essence was there.”

After a moment of feigned struggle, Yeosang returned the embrace with surprising warmth.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, though affection colored the words.

“Impossibly WONDERFUL,” Wooyoung corrected, finally releasing him but keeping his hands on Yeosang’s shoulders. His expression softened into something more genuine. “And for what it’s worth, you’re my closest friend too. Even when—especially when—you’re threatening to sedate me.”

The simple confession, delivered without Wooyoung’s usual theatrical flourish, created a moment of genuine connection that needed no further words.

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