#family AUs rly do get me by the throat

[solargeist]

Imagine with me, if you will; two small children walking along a street in some town who's name has long since been forgotten. The older of the two couldn't be more than five years old, holding his younger sister as they avoid most of the heavier traffic. The smaller of the two had shoes while the larger is walking barefoot. Regardless about the lack of shoes, the child had his sister on his back piggyback style. It's getting dark and the are some safer alleys not too far ahead.

A Watcher stands in the shadows, doing as Watchers do; Watching. Both children held strong potential in them (as all children do) and they walk past where the Entity stood without so much as blinking up at Her. The Watcher observed as the elder of the siblings moved nimbly down the street; skillfully avoiding taller legs and shoes as his own feet slapped quietly along the cobblestone street.

After a moment of deliberation, the Watcher left Her place in the shadows to pursue the children. She followed behind them a few paces, unseen by the world as she fluttered through them like a ghost. The child eventually turned turned down a side road to take the pair out of sight. Of course, nothing was out of Sight for Her.

She watched as the elder carefully lowered the younger onto the ground before turning around towards the entrance of the alley. The child puffed his chest out slightly, talking a big breath and, to the surprise of the Watcher, addressed Her. "What do you want?"

Now that was intriguing. The Watcher's form shifted, shrinking down a few inches as well as moving to crouched down to be eye level with the child. "I am Watching, child. Can you see me?"

"Well duh. I could see you follow us down the last three blocks," the child made a face under all the grime on his cheeks. Hard brown eyes the color of deep earth glared at the Watcher under what must have been a mousy brown. "I don't like it. Do it somewhere else."

"However, you two are alone out here, are you not?" She gestured a long fingered hand covered in wrapped rags towards where the smaller girl was curled up, asleep on the folded cardboard her brother had put her down on.

"Yes and we are fine." The boy almost barked at Her, with a voice so young and so full with venom.

She tilted her head at the child she spoke to. "What have you planned for dinner tonight?"

The child shifted on his bare feet, eyes glancing almost guiltily towards a dumpster farther in the alley before they turned back to the Watcher. "That is none of your business, lady. I suggest you mind it."

The Watcher laughed, the sound echoing slightly out of sync in the child's ears. He flinched slightly at the unfamiliar sound. She opened her outer robe just enough to reach inside the pitch black lining. The child watched her intently as Her hand disappeared from view. His young face didn't change as she pulled out a chorus fruit. "What is that?"

"Food." The Watcher said, Her voice as soothing as possible. Her hands broke apart the outer purple part of the fruit, much like how a cauliflower florets were so packed together, to reveal the soft white inner flesh. "I am sure you don't get much fresh fruit out here."

"It looks weird." The child snapped at her as his small grubby hand went to grip the front of his shirt, right in front of his belly.

"Perhaps to you, yes." The Watcher pulled apart a smaller slice before offering it towards the child. "But it needn't stay a stranger."

The child hesitated, eyes sharp between the food, hand, and where the Watcher's face would be if She had it visible. All he could see of Her was shadow. "Y you eat a bit first."

She wordlessly pulled Her hand back and broke off another small bit of flesh and lifted it to where he couldn't See her mouth. Personally, chours fruit was almost too sweet for Her. Like a sweet and spicy candied ginger. She pulled her hand back and then offered the now slightly smaller bit of fruit to the child. If eaten in slow enough, it would not cause the random teleport that it was so famous for.

He didn't hesitate now knowing it was safe, but he still was careful to take the fruit from Her bandaged hand. The Watcher was even more pleasantly suprised that he was able to interact with the fruit. As soon as the child had his hands full of fruit, he stepped away again to take a bite of the soft inner white. He made a slight face at the flavor.

Somewhere else, She smiled. "Good, yes?"

"It is a little... spicy?" He asked it like a question but ate another strip of flesh.

"That is a good word," the Watcher nodded. "Where will you two stay tonight?"

"Here? Probably." He concluded after a moment. "I think it is going to rain tonight and there is a bit of overhang roof back here. Might be able to stay mostly dry."

The Warcher hummed, using her hands to continue to break the chours fruit apart. She Watched him as he finished with the white part of the fruit and started on the thicker purple outside. The pith of the fruit, while still edible, was not as flavorful as on the inside. She like that part a bit more.

Once the boy was done, She offered him another bit of flesh. He took it again, no hesitation this time and took it to his sister to eat. The girl had sat up groggy, but took the fruit her brother gave her. She did not look towards the Watcher at all.

"How about you come home with me? Just for the night."

Her higher ups might have words for Her, but honestly was sure that Their anger with Her would be dissuaded upon realising this human appearing child Saw Her.

The boy frowned. "Why should we?"

"The rain." The Watcher said easily. "Do you not fear the thunder, child?"

"No." He said firmly, puffing his chest out again. It made Her think of a small bird puffing up to appear larger than it was.

"Of course not." She said smoothly. "And for the little one with you."

This cause the child to shift slightly. "She will handle it tonight. We've gotten through it before."

"I am sure you have. However, I offer you an actual bed and a better meal than fruit "

He hesitated. "Just for tonight?"

"Of course."

He thought it over. She could almost see the little gears in his human mind grinding away and She was almost tempted to look, but She didn't have time to before he nodded. "Okay. Just for tonight."

The Watcher nodded Her head and stood from her crouched position and glided over to them. The boy picked up his sister as she chewed on the outer peel. "Would you like me to hold her, sunrise?"

"Sunrise?" He asked confused. The confusion carried over as she held out the rest of the fruit. The Warcher took the still sleepy three year old in exchange for the fruit.

"Nevermind the name, child. Just a pet name." The Watcher held out a hand again to the child once She got the toddler settled. The little girl, once being held by the Watcher, had seemed to perk up and looked at the Entity in young confusion. The Watcher ignored her and offered a newly freed hand to the older child.

He took it and with the sound of an enderman whoop and a few partials, the trio were gone. All that was left was the outer bit of chorus fruit that the little girl didn't finish.

-Phantom

THÉ SIBLING EVER 😭😭

im getting way too attached to a motherly Watcher wuwghudug her bébés…

[thechaosoflonging]

cute tings my besfwen did on dis trip tog w me 2 den haag & s-hortengobosch

he’s da only one who can see thru my facade of being happi in isolation & he told me dat i was rly sad acc n i had a huge self identity/personal crisis n cried for an hour in da hotel room. & realised i didn’t wanna 2 live like dis

couldn’t meet me at da airport saur said he’ll pay for a taxi 2 my gaff

bought me my ov chip card as a reign of passage of me being a local in da dam (2 pay me back for my taxi)

changed his bedsheets for me at my request

let me keep my stuff here & kept a drawer for me

peeled an orange for me & gave me a bit of choco da next morning for bweakfast (it was his fake roomates lmao) + told me 2 use his fake roomate’s body wash if his were empty lmao

would fill himself water n then fill it again for me in da same glass instead of giving me a separate glass

always shares his airpods w me whether it be a podcast or vids on ytb or reddit or music<3

helped me out in da markets when i didn’t have cash & i was able 2 get rly cute cat eye sunglasses bc of him for 10€

helped me w smuller getting me a borger bc it was like a vending machine for food

bought me water in da shops

told me when we arrived in s-hortogenbosch dat it was acc a rly cute town n he felt bad bc he’s sick n didn’t want 2 shit all over my plans

showed me his festival vids/pics & his concert vids

changed my mind abt techno! lofi techno or chill techno or techno where there r vocals is acc nice 2 listen 2 w a fwen

told me 2 stand near sum flowers n took pics of me

had dmc w me l8 at nite

we had a talk abt our relationship n i realised dat he treats me like family. not like a guest. no matter where i go. we’re jus so comfortable w one another bc we’ve known each other for 8 years

told me dat if i got a vocal coach i’d be an amazing singer bc i have a nice voice i jus dunno what 2 do w it along w being saur nasally n vocal fry a lil bit when i sing from my throat. it rly boost my confidence in singing bc all my life i’ve been told 2 shut up but my 2 besfwens r da most supportive of me musically wise

is acc convincing me 2 move 2 NL & 2 move out my gaff

told me i can come over for a week n we can do lots of fun stuffs hehe

told me 2 not be a stranger n dat i was always welcome 2 stay w him n his roommate

told me dat my turquoise dress was gorgeous & dat my tennis dress was v 70’s esque

his fake roommate told me dat he told her abt me working in childcare which means he does talk abt me 2 his fwens

took candid photos of me on da boat & nice photos of me posing

taught me 2 drive da boat. we got stuck in a pond but he got us out of it. & he slowed da boat when there were cute ducks n swans

went 2 an arcade n played ddr w me even doe it was out of his comfort zone

got rly rly rly into taiko drum game w me n we killed da last song n we look to our right n there were a group of 10 ppl (tourists?) outside looking at us n cheering along w us as we finished da song n it was da funniest ting dat has happened 2 me in a long time

dis cute lil tap tap tings on my bare leg/arm while we were listening 2 music n lip synced songs while we vibed tog

haggled da taxi for a round trip for me

got my luggage n stitch for me super fast as i stayed in da taxi

kept reassuring me not 2 worry

carried my water/smoothie/rubbish for me in his side pockets

carried my slippers for me in his bag

told me dat childcare/au pair suits me sm again

told me he acc thought sum of my playlist was p gud

always sat next 2 me on da train even doe his fake ass roommate tagged along w us 2 da market

called me out on my perfectionist standards which i rly needed 2 hear

told me dat he’s gonna invite me 2 stuffs n we can do more tings tog if i stopped bringing my suitcase lmao

took selcas w me on da boat <3

sent me off 2 da airport even doe he had 2 help his fake roommate move out

always sat next 2 me on da train given da option of sitting next 2 me or his fake roommate

[ad1thi]

If your still doing fic recs, could u rec any soft stevetony ones?

absolutely!! this got pretty long so ive hidden most of it under a read-more so i don’t annoy people. a couple of authors feature more than once. ive tried to avoid that as much as possible, but if an author features more than once - take that as a sign that they have rly good stuff for soft stevetony

disclaimer: don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for every author!! (a disclaimer i regrettably forgot to add to previous fic rec lists but will be adding from now on)

soda pops: @starklysteve

If anybody asks, Steve would smile and say it was very romantic. Very Tony. Because if he went into any further detail, nobody would quite believe him.

Tony, on the other hand, would laugh and say that Steve’s in love with a man in a can. So, really, it wasn’t outside the natural progression of things.

me voy pa’l pueblo: @firebrands

two times steve walks away, and one time that tony walks with him.

/ or, my very fluffy take on my bingo card prompt "farewells." steve is on vacation when he meets tony.

fill for my stony bingo prompt: farewells; also for bookworminaslump on tumblr who asked for a tourist/knowledgeable local au!

Tumblr Ficlets:  @omg-just-peachy (this is 115 chapters of stevetony being soft!!)

A collection of enough tooth-rotting fluff to last a year, all in one place.

tender offerings: @omg-just-peachy

Five times Steve carried Tony to bed.

the best thing (is that it’s happening to you and me):  @captainstarkreportingforduty

Or, five times the team saw Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in love.

Sweet On You: @miniblackraven

It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Bespectacled Avengers Society (Membership of One):  @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

Tony gets glasses. Glasses get a Tony. Steve loses his mind and walks into walls.

a flower crown for your love: @anthonyed

"There, there," Pepper cooed. "Tony likes flowers?" she said with a shred of doubt in her tone. But when Steve peered up, she's smiling her bright toothy smile. He squinted and she sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "He does." she insisted. "Even more so than me."

if this was a movie: @omg-just-peachy

“One of our seniors is being generous with his time this year—by force of his own actions, but generous none the less—and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure. Tony Stark? I’ll set something up for later this week. I think between the two of you you’ll be able to pull your average up enough to make it through to playoffs,” Coulson said, with that ever-hopeful lilt in his voice.

Or, Steve needs a calculus tutor, Tony is available, but how is Steve ever supposed to focus when he's been in love with Tony for ... his entire school life?

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

amore mio:  @brucewaynery

Tony has had it with Steve being dumb and reckless out in the field, he has a family to think about now, Steve promises him that he'll be with him, kingdom come.

(initially based on that one headcanon about Italian Tony yelling and gesticulating at Steve but Peter thinks he's doing some weird dance and tries to copy him, but it got very fluffy very quickly)

Lost My Mind in a Coffee Shop: @betheflame

“Boyo,” Bucky muttered to his best friend. “I swear to God that if you don’t ask that man for his number soon, I will create a Grindr profile for you and you will not like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am here to finish grading, not hit on men.”

“Can you not do both?” Natasha smirked. “Nearly tenured, historical genius, feels like something you should be able to multitask.”

&&&

In which Steve is a history professor and Tony's an engineering one and Bucky owns the joint where they have their meet cute.

AU-gust Chapter 7: @iam93percentstardust 

stevetony, childhood friends AU

Right Up The Road: @gottalovev

The day at the senate committee in Washington DC wasn't supposed to end with Tony and Steve transformed into animals by a baby witch. That said, the 350 miles trek back to the compound to get help promises to be quite an adventure too!

(or the adventures of Cat!Tony and Wolf!Steve - and how to readjust when you're back to human!)

i’ll take care of you: @elcorhamletlive

“Hi.”

Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.

He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.

“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”

The Tally System:  @betheflame

Everyone on the team knew about the tally system.

Whenever Steve would save Tony - whether from a monster or from his own stupidity - he’d say, “tag”. Whenever Tony do the same, he’d say, “your turn”. Thor thought it was adorable, Clint thought it was ridiculous, Bruce refused to register an opinion.

Natasha thought it was something she could work with.

what’s mine is yours: @robertdowneyjjr

5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.

or

For a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.

I like Shiny Things But I’d Marry You With Paper Rings: @betheflame

Rhodey: I just confirmed with Sam that he’s going to make sure he cooks tonight and that his entire team is briefed. I’m heading over now to strategically arrange a fuck ton of ficus trees to block them from gen pop.

Pepper: They’re not getting engaged in a prison, Jimmy.

Rhodey: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers show up to Circe on a Saturday night in May and you watch every person in that restaurant turn into someone I’d rather arrest than eat with.

****

In which Tony and Steve get engaged, but they're kind of extra about it, because they are always themselves

the road to the stars: @shell-heads

Tony is seven years old when he sees the ballet for the first time and meets his future pas de deux partner.

His father is invited to sweet-talk politicians into a new weapons deal and explain his latest idea for their program, and his mom goes to catch up with old friends she hasn't seen in years, but Tony goes because his mom had smiled down at him and told him he would love it.

His mom's never wrong.

-

In which boy genius Tony Stark meets girl wonder Natasha Romanoff at the ballet, and they fit their broken little pieces together to make something beautiful on the dance floor.

Steve? He's just a dumb, awful, chaotic, extremely supportive older brother that really should just shut up and admit he likes Tony a lot more than he pretends, because Natasha only has five people in the world she likes; it only makes sense her two favorites would fall in love with one another.

They always were a little slow, though.

A Second Chance To Take it Slow: @omg-just-peachy

Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.

Wake Up!: @randomstufffromotherblogs

Tony came home from a business trip and is woken up by his husband and their three-year old.

pull me closer to love:  @captainstakreportingforduty (part of a series)

“A Mother’s Day card? For... Tony?” Steve clarifies, and can’t help the smile on his face as six familiar little heads nod in response.

“But... guys, Tony’s not—“ he pauses and takes a breath, any explanation dying in his throat against the excited gleam in everyone’s eyes. “Why do you guys want to do that, hmm?"

compromises:  @robertpattisons (when i looked up OP on tumblr, this is the blog i was directed to - but i sincerely apologise if ive gotten it wrong)

Steve should have expected it, he really should have.

There were regulations that came with dating Tony Stark. Things that were clear and things that they needed to work through.

Things like how Steve always got strawberry ice cream, while Tony got rocky road. Or when Steve needed to get his homework done before he was down to make out - even though Tony always got his way.

Things like that were clear

all that you are is all that i’ll ever need: @natasharxmanov

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers announced their engagement on Good Morning America through Tony Stark’s previous secretary now CEO, Pepper Potts. And over this past weekend, I got the chance to sit down with them both, to visit their home and attend their gala, all to write this article about the most powerful couple in the world.

(Or, the fic in which Tony and Steve get married.)

(i won’t ever) trade my mistakes: @brucewaynery

Toddler Peter, painting a masterpiece with his dad.

aka: a dumb amount of family fluff to help you power through the week

[backtothestart02]

Remember That Night - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Yes, another new fic...but this one I’m rly inspired for and might write more of this weekend if I get some genuine feedback! It’s based off the song of the same name by Sara Kays. I’m going to go beyond where the song ended, but it is my jumping off point and a good portion of the story. I hope you enjoy it!

...

Synopsis: AU - The mysterious cowboy walked out of Iris’ life without a second thought, wracking her entire world just as much when he walked back into it again.

...

Chapter 1 - Gone

The morning started like any other. A mixed ray of colors in the sky morphed into blue, clouds parted and birds flew overhead. The West ranch was still quiet in the early hours of the morning, though any minute now Uncle Jesse would emerge from the main house to tend to the horses in the barn. His wife, Aunt Cora would be cheerfully making breakfast – pancakes and eggs with fruit, as was her usual.

But in the guest house on the far side of the property, all was still silent, completely unaware of the onslaught of emotions that would bombard its interior within minutes.

A vision on the king-sized bed, Iris’ dark eyes finally opened into the morning light with a flutter of her eyelashes. Her first instinct was to curl into the reason for her pure ecstasy all summer long. Barry Allen, ranch hand for her uncle for the summer.

He’d first appeared at her birthday party two months ago. While they’d shared little more than small talk and a hand shake at the event, Iris couldn’t help but feel there was something between them instantly. A magnetism that she couldn’t ignore even if she wanted to. And she didn’t want to.

He was twenty-one, and she was nineteen. She had a little place in the city, but she found excuses to drive out almost daily to visit with her family – really, to spy on Barry and see if there was something there.

There was.

Within days they were wrapped up in each other and hardly apart except for when he had to tend to his work. And even then she lingered just to be near him. Sometimes she helped out too. Something she’d sworn she’d never do again after a summer at her uncle’s when she was 13 proved ranching was hard work too. She was convinced it was worth it this time though.

As the hot months started to dwindle down, a feeling of dread settled in Iris. She’d be going back to college soon, and then what? Barry would stick around? He’d only signed on for summer employment. Would he stick around for her?

He hadn’t even told her he loved her yet.

Iris had told him though. He’d responded by kissing her, and then making love to her. It was such a magical night that it wasn’t until much later that Iris realized he hadn’t said it back.

She figured he would in time. Maybe he just wasn’t used to opening up like that.

But time was ticking away, and she worried maybe he never would. Maybe he’d disappear from her life as if he’d never been there and hadn’t completely changed her entire world.

No, he wouldn’t do that, she tried to reassure herself.

Would he?

Finding him absent from the bed when she woke up set her emotions into high gear, but she ordered herself to calm down. She sat up, pulling the sheet up over her bare breasts and called out for him.

There was no reply.

Frowning, and more than a little worried now, she pulled the sheet with her as she got up and went to his dresser, searching for one of his t-shirts that more or less drowned her because of how tall he was compared to her petite size.

There was only one left. The rest of the dresser was bare.

Her heart started racing.

She put the shirt on over her head, and sure enough, it fell to mid-thigh, the short sleeves hovering around her elbows.

She turned to look out through the open doorway and heard the slight commotion of dishes in the kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief, figuring it probably wasn’t a robber out here in the wilderness.

“Barry?”

“I’m out here, Iris,” he responded somewhat impatiently.

Her brows furrowed, but she tip-toed out into the hall and found her way into the kitchen. The sun was streaming over the breakfast he’d prepared for them sitting on the table. It looked like he’d just finish washing the dishes as he’d waited for her to get up. Which was kind of backwards thinking to her, but she decided not to mention it and walked over to him, tipping her face up for a kiss.

He obliged her, then gestured to the table, where they sat and had their meal in a cozy silence, sharing almost no words till they were almost finished.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Barry said, relieving her of her dirtied plate, so he could wash it quickly.

Iris was amused, and now couldn’t help but commenting.

“You know, I’m all for efficiency, and I love that you cook and clean, but uh-”

“What?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“You seem a bit…rushed this morning, even tense.”

He laughed shortly.

“When have you ever known me to be tense?”

That was true, Iris admitted to herself. He’d always been particularly casual, laid-back, easy-going.

“Rushed then.”

“Because I don’t want to see dirty dishes sit all day long?”

“Barry,” she said, softly.

He finished the dishes, put them away, and returned to her.

“It’s a busy day, Iris. That’s all.”

She was doubtful of that, and watched him steadily as he put the food away in the refrigerator.

“Working today?” she asked, scanning the room for any sign of something different. Unease was creeping up in her, and she couldn’t shake it.

His next words tumbled out the minute she saw bags packed up and his cowboy boots sitting nestled beside them with his cowboy hat on top by the door.

“I’m leaving.”

She spun around, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry… what?”

He sighed.

“Today. Now. That’s why I’m making sure everything is clean and put away. I’ve already let your uncle know. He says I’ve reached enough days in my contract, and I can go now if I’d like to.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

Her heart fell. So much for thinking he might ask on to stay longer so he could be with her.

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But what about… What about-”

“Us?” he finished for her.

“Yeah!” she said, starting to panic.

He came closer, almost setting his hands on her arms to calm her but pulling back at the last second.

“Iris, you knew this was never going to last.”

Her jaw dropped.

“You’re in college, I’m in-”

“What?” she spat.

“Life,” he said simply. “I have to go. That’s all there is to it.”

He walked around her to start putting on his boots.

“Were you even going to tell me? If I hadn’t gotten up now, would you have even-”

He straightened.

“I probably would’ve left the food out for you with a note.”

A note?! She seethed.

When he approached her, this time she backed away, and he sighed.

“You know I don’t like to wake you when you’re sleeping. You always look so peaceful.”

Her eyebrows narrowed.

“I can think of a time or two when you woke me to serve your own needs.”

His lips thinned, then he took two steps forward, so they were inches apart.

“As I recall, you didn’t mind the wake-up call.” He smirked slowly.

She wanted to scream. Here he was seducing her as he walked out the door!

“It’s been fun,” he said, his eyes dipping to where her nipples pressed against the fabric of his shirt she was wearing.

“Is that all it was?” she said, anger turning to tears welling in her eyes.

Sadness filled his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“I’ll never forget you, Iris West.”

I love you was stuck in her throat. She couldn’t push it out.

The next minutes passed by in a blur. She watched, her eyes glazing over as he walked away from her and loaded up his truck with his bags and finally got inside. He hesitated for a moment, and that moment was enough to jar Iris out of her trance and get her to run outside.

“Barry!”

He turned to look at her just as the keys turned in the ignition.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded.

He looked at her sadly, and then, instead of saying goodbye, he said what he always did when it was too hard to say what he needed to.

“You look beautiful in the sunlight, Iris. Did I ever tell you that?”

Her lips parted in disbelief.

He tipped his hat to her, then drove away, down the long driveway and onto the highway. Out of her life. Forever.

At least she had thought.

...

*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,” you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, “Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim. 

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying. 

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19) Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I’m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.

[heartau]

Domaine de la Romanée | J.JH [M]

Genre: rich kid!au - angst, smut, slow burn-ish, pining, fluff Word count: 41.2k (i am so sorry.) Comments: ok.... i got rly engrossed in the plot and world building so i went super buckwild on this. i apologize for that. i worked on this for a whole month + 2 weeks so .... enjoy! i’d love love looove hearing some feedback! also UNEDITED.  Warnings: very, very, very explicit sexual content - rough sex, choking, throat-fucking, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected, breeding kink | strong language, various sexual scenes, infidelity(? kinda). 

Even the most pure become tainted when their eyes meet his. This was doomed from the start; you knew it was dangerous, you knew it was bad - but all those thoughts left your mind the second he made you feel good. 

[ ⚠ ] This piece involves a very problematic scenario (ie. infidelity). Please note that I do not promote nor advocate it. This is a work of pure fiction, involving a plot that is compelling to read and write about. Please read the trigger warnings listed and assess if you are comfortable to proceed - I do not wish to harm or trigger anybody. Adding on, while this work of fiction features real people, I would like to remind you that how I portray them does not, in any way, correlate to how they truly act in real life - I am just using them as characters for a plot. I do not wish to defame or insult anybody, I am just here to practice my passion in writing and entertain you.

Domaine de la Romanée - Field of Romance

You eyed the roses placed within the glass vase situated in the center of the table and wondered to yourself when this monotonous gala will reach its conclusion. The Versace gown that hugs your body has already started to itch at your skin and the corset that your stylists forced you into before leaving for the jubilee eludes you from making numerous rounds to the dessert table, but your mother’s joyful grin and welcoming arms lead you to believe that the night is far from reaching its end. Unable to slouch over in your seat, all you are able to do is sit stiff against the backrest of your plush velvet chair, fingers pinched at the stem of your glass of wine, swirling the liquid of domaine de la romanée-cont.

This gala was all your mother’s proposal for her new Spring collection releasing just a few days prior, ensembles of pastel and bold colours rolling out onto the runway and fostering a flock of people to rush into your boutiques littered across the globe. Your great-great-grandmother was the founder of Decoré, established in the year 1882, and the brand overtook the fashion industry by storm, raking millions and millions of dollars into your family name. She, who passed the company down to her daughter, who passed it onto her own daughter, who passed it onto your mother, were all eager with the idea of leading their own business. Forthwith, in a few years time, it’ll be your own turn in leading this empire - and you couldn’t be more than fervent in finally having the brand in your own two hands.

Of course, your mother thinks the same, as to why this celebration doubles as a matchmaking service for you, her only child. 

“(Y/N), dear!” she calls your name, hushed by the constant classical music reverberating from the string ensemble. You turn to meet her direction, eyes automatically moving to the man she was pulling along with her, and for the nth time that night, wished that you weren’t stuck in such a tight corset so you could guzzle up every wine bottle in sight in order to avoid the imminent doom. “There is someone I’d like you to meet!” 

Yukhei “Lucas” Xuxi Wong the IV, whom most people know as Wong Yukhei, whom most people refer to as only Lucas. The amount of names that the man holds equates nowhere near the amount of distaste you hold for him; if it weren’t for the grossly iniquitous personality that you have come to know and hear by virtue of the internet, you would have already been charmed by his sharp, dusky eyes and spellbinding smile. Your poor mother, far too oblivious, beams in what you could only describe as acceptance.

“This is Yukhei Wong the IV,” your mother grins as Lucas pulls a chair out for her to sit on. He smooths down his tan Hermés suit before sitting down in the plush seat on your other side, already attempting to send provocative eyes your way. “He is the next in line for the chief executive position of the Wong Institute of Medicine, you know, the beautiful university in New York? Yukhei, this is my daughter, (Y/N)!” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Yukhei.” you say, feigning a kind smile as you outstretch your hand towards the tall, handsome man. 

“Please, call me Lucas,” he coquettes, taking your hand and leaning down to press a kiss on your knuckles. For a split second, you are unsure if the cause of the slight taste of domaine de la romanée-cont travelling back up your esophagus was induced by this wanton or if it’s due to your corset digging into your stomach. “It’s very nice to meet you as well, dear. You are just as beautiful as you are in the photo shoots I’ve seen. Even more so, really.”

You throw him a simper as you gently pull your hand away from him, rejection clear on your expression but unbeknownst to him. You’ve read up on countless articles about this man, how doomed the reputation of Wong Institute was going to be once he gets ahold of the company; limitless cheating scandals, a myriad of DUIs, and multitudes of other alleged crimes, you’re almost confused, if not horrified, at how on earth your mother would think he’d be a perfect candidate for you - but the glimmering chandelier that must have cost millions above you is the token answer to that.

“Lucas was telling me about how the last of his father’s inquiries are wrapping up before KIM is being passed onto him. Isn’t that right, Lucas?” your mother urges the man, who looks at you with a type of hunger in his eyes that you’d rather not question him about. “You two youngsters have a chat, I have to go welcome my guests!”

“Yes, of course!” Lucas tears his eyes off your body for the first time since meeting him only seconds ago, sending a kilowatt smile at your mother, who pivots on her heel before walking back towards the entrance hallway. “My father is such an inspirational man, he’s built an empire of medical resources. So many of the world’s renowned doctors graduated from our institute - but, to be truthful, I’m terrified of taking that empire into my own hands without someone I can call my wife by my side to cheer me on.” 

You try all you can to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Is that so?” leaves your mouth in bitter fashion.

Ever since you had become of age five years ago, your mother has been desperately trying to match you with a whole slew of men to wed from her business networks, planning blind dates for you and offering you their numbers. From medicine, to theatrics, you have encountered every type of man possible in just the last few years and yet, none of them come quite close to your savour. Either they were far too goal-oriented for you to envision a loving future, far too dull for you to envision a happy future, or far too… abhorrent for you to envision a healthy future. Perhaps your mother knew of Lucas’ true colours but only considered the business venture and the large percentage of the stock he would inherit from the Wong Institute - but other than that, you are stumped as to why she would even contemplate a marriage between the two of you, fields of expertise far too wide and vast from each other.

“Yes, it is,” Lucas says, eyes casting down as if he were reenacting a monologue of a play. “But it’s hard, you know? I haven’t found the perfect woman to marry yet; they’re either far too childish, or are plain gold-diggers, which, frankly, isn’t really my taste.”

“Hm.” you answer bluntly, taking another sip of your savoury wine. 

As he continues to drone on and on about his ideals and morals, none of which you are inclined to believe at all, you find yourself falling short from the wine in your glass, having already drunk all of the liquid. 

“Would you like me to get you some more, (Y/N)?” Lucas asks, cocking his head to the side, a gummy smile stretching on his face. 

You shake your head. “It’s alright, I’ll get it myself. I’m in need of a refresher, anyways,” you stand, legs slightly numb from where your corset pinched your waist. “It was very nice talking to you, Lucas.”

“Of course, of course,” he says, standing up as well. “Can I see you again sometime?”

You scrunch your nose, and for the first time since meeting him, he flashes a dejected look in his eye. “You’ll have to book an appointment with my manager.” 

And with that, you pivot on your heel and head towards the refreshments, leaving a stunned Lucas in your wake, praising yourself for finishing your wine rather than dumping the remnants of it over his Hermés suit. You let out a sigh as you find solace in the classical music, reading the labels of each wine bottle displayed in rows on the table. Finding the bottle for domaine de la romanée-conti, you request one of the caterers to fill your glass, and within seconds, you find yourself standing in the corner of the venue, far from where you originally sat. You studied the decorations adorned throughout the hall, very much in theme with your mother’s Spring collection - fabrics of pastel silk and decorative flowers suspending from the ceiling above, causing chandeliers to look like floweret bulbs and to emit a slight, coral glow. 

“Quite peculiar that the great (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is standing in the corner and not conversing with the guests of her mother’s own gala,” a merry voice causes you to look up from your swirling wine, breaking out into your first smile of the night at the sight of your best friend. 

Joohyun “Irene” Kim, is the granddaughter of the founder of Bae Institute of Fashion, a very renowned university of design established in the hills of Beverly and Hollywood. You had met her the first year you had gone to school, automatically sticking to each other like magnets. Although she may be a quiet woman herself, she was relatively much more confident than you were as a growing child; she had helped you bloom from your shell. You are an only child, but ever since meeting Irene, you only feel as though you’ve grown with a sister.

“Irene,” you smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Of course I came!” she giggles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How could I miss the unravelling of Decoré’s Spring Collection, especially so, since some graduates of the institute collaborated on the subject. I actually saw you not too long ago, conversing with Wong Yukhei,” she leans against the wall beside you. “Anything juicy?”

“Not so,” you let out a sigh. “It’s just mother trying to get me to meet another man for marriage. Although, I’m not sure why she would think that man is a good choice.” 

“Evidently so, last I heard, he splurged half of his institute’s money on a night spent in a hotel in Italy with dozens of women on his arms,” Irene sighs, shaking her head. “Why does your mother insist on you marrying? You’re still a young woman, you have a life to live first - and besides, it’s not like any of the guys she’s found for you are all that interesting either.”

You let out a snicker, shaking your head. “You have no right in lecturing me, Irene, aren’t you engaged?” you quirked an eyebrow at your best friend while she rolls her eyes at you. “Frankly, I’ve never seen you so happy than the night Seokjin proposed. It was quite a sight, really.”

“Oh shut up,” she pouts, lightly hitting you on your shoulder. “Once you find the man you’ve been waiting for, you’ll know the feeling exactly.” 

The rest of the night is spent with you glued to her arm, following her around the venue as she greets the people that she knows. Irene has always been just a little more social than you have ever been, and now with an engagement ring on her finger, it only brings more topics of discussion with her. You had the chance to meet her fiancé, Kim Seokjin, as well, proving himself a good and commendable man; he held admiring eyes for only her and had an air of genuinity - you felt the inkling of envy building in your stomach, not because you wished for Seokjin to love you, but because your best friend had found a good man to settle down with, something that doesn’t seem at all possible for you. 

As the night continues on, you find yourself seated at their table, watching as individuals adorned in brand names from Vuitton to Marchesa walk past you with high chins and flutes of liquor. The string ensemble has shifted their focus from classical and moved onto jazz, and you’re almost sure they’ve been playing the same measure for the past twelve minutes. Sighing as the couple beside you converse as if they’re in their own world, you continue to look around the room, finding your mother rearranging a pot of decorative flowers to her liking right next to a panoramic window. Your eyes shift to the other side of the window, and you instinctively sit forward in your chair.

Clad in a dark grey suit by Hemsworth and a black tie tucked behind his blazer, a handsome man of tall stature does the same thing as you, watching individuals walk past and interact amongst themselves, swirling cheval blanc in his wine glass. His hair, an ash blonde, a dye job that works wonders for his creamy skin tone, is slicked back messily, a few strands of hair slipping through the layer of gel and hanging in front of his forehead. His face, square in shape, held a juxtaposition of features, sharp eyes, but a soft nose; sharp lips, but a sleek jawline and fleshy cheeks. He looked stunning, far more stunning than the men you’ve met throughout the last five years; he looked as if he walked out of an impressionist painting. 

Just before you were about to tear your eyes off of the man, his head turns to your direction, automatically meeting your eyes. For a split second, his gaze tears, only to return boring into yours again, which causes you to gasp slightly. His face remains expressionless as he continues your eye contact, before he surely looks away from you one last time. Your hand bunches up the soft blue silk of your Versace gown before spinning towards Irene. 

“Irene.” you grab her hand, diverting her attention away from her fiancé. 

“Yes? What is it?” she turns to you. You let out a puff of air before continuing your sentence.

You turn your head again to see if the man is still there, to which he was, eyes back to focusing on the rest of the crowd lining the halls. “That man over there, in the dark grey, next to the window,” you whisper to her. “Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.”

Her eyes follow your line of sight with an expression of joy since at last, you’ve finally found a man you showed at least an inkling of interest in, but once her eyes land on the man in question, her expression falls.

“No.” her voice turns grave, much to your panic. “(Y/N), don’t you dare even think about it.”

You widen your eyes in confusion, searching her face to find clues if she were just joking - but her expression remains serious. “Why?” you ask her. “Who is he?”

“That’s Jay Jung,” she tells you, grasping your hands. “Better known as Jung Jaehyun. He’s next in line for the position of CEO for Jung & Associates, you know, that really famous law firm? They’re a family full of lawyers - they come from old money, (Y/N), they’re extremely powerful. They’re not here to play dress-up like the rest of us.” 

You furrow your brows. You’ve heard about Jung & Associates before in fleeting conversations. Always on the topic of them winning innumberal cases and trials, or articles that litter your ears during outings of his father merging with and overpowering other law firms. You recall hearing your mother talking about Jung & Associates on the phone while you sat in the lounging area scrolling through your Twitter feed, just a few weeks ago.

“What? We come from old money as well, Irene.” you urge her on, not quite understanding her rejectful view of the man. The two of you also come from old money, Decoré and the BAE Institute have been established for generations and still continue to stick around by blood lineage, so you were unsure why she seemed so rattled by the man and his family name.

“Yes, but we’re different,” Irene pauses. “Our companies collaborate with each other, because we can, and because our environments and industries are light-hearted enough. Jung & Associates does not collaborate - they purchase the smaller companies, no matter what field of expertise the company aims for, and whether they like it or not.” She glances back towards Jaehyun, who had begun to walk back into the lounging area, walking past the plush velvet chairs. “I know that Jung Jaehyun holds the ego of five men, he thinks of himself as if he is on a pedestal.” 

You watch as the man gazes at the decorations strewn across the gallery, a flat expression gracing his angelic features. It’s quite disheartening that a man so attractive as he could possess such alleged revolting qualities - but you aren’t shocked; throughout the years of being taught by your mother on how to pull the ropes of a company as a woman, it isn’t like you’re unaccustomed to men forging their own skills in order to get to the top. You’ve learned that the hard way.

“Why does he look like that? He looks miserable.” you scoff, eyeing him as he continues to walk past an array of your mother’s guests, avoiding their widened eyes and hushed whispers. He looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else but to be present in this gala, which is a feeling you associate with, but you would never say that out loud. 

“I’m not sure, he usually has the semblance of a smile on - but that’s mostly when he’s with his brothers,” she says, watching him along with you. “It’s peculiar that he’s here by himself.” 

The faintest feeling of apprehension bubbles up in your stomach once more, but you shake it off. This man is still young, the law firm hasn’t been passed down to him yet - he’s probably just here for his own amusement and pleasure, and was wholly disappointed by the lack of fun and the droning jazz music. Whatever the case, you still find yourself unable to look away from him, taking in his beauty, finding yourself wish, just for a split second, that the rumours about him are nowhere near true. He seats himself at a table near the center of the ballroom, and his eyes flashes to yours once again, his gaze lingering on your eyes. This time, you’re the first to look away.

-----

The silk chiffon robe that adorns your body designed specifically for you by Montenero is a price that even your shoes tucked away in their own walk-in closet cannot reach. The hush humdrum of french chatter originating from people passing underneath your hotel balcony is calming to you, having growing used to the booming noises that come with residing deep within a city. October is your favourite time of year to visit Bordeaux, France, as the pesky throngs of tourists finally dwindle away and due to the sun deciding to emit heat much gentler than any other season. Even the staff of Hôtel Le Palais Gallien bear a jolly expression this time of year.

It is occasions like this when you would find yourself sojourned in this city for a breather from your hectic work life, photoshoots and fashion shows demanding your occupancy more than seventy hours per week, the cool evening air kissing your cheek bones as you breath out a blissful sigh. Just on the 7 rue Ferrere inside an old warehouse building built of cobblestones and brick, was an exhibition held by your favourite photographer, John Suh - rather than flashy ornaments strewn over sets and models posing themselves in an avant-garde manner, he always pursued natural lighting, habitual individual quirks; simplistic, comfortable, authentic. You had always wished to collaborate with him on a photoshoot, but his schedule would always turn up booked; you would have to wait years to be able to book an appointment with him.

You smooth down the slightly scrunched fabric of your lilac Rachel Parcell summer dress, leather satchel by Kate Spade in tow as you step out of the sleek black car; you had told your chauffeur to meet you at the same spot in about two hours and a half, wanting to experience the exhibition in full on your own. Journalists and cameramen have already bombarded the entrance, yelling multiple queries for you to answer, ranging from questioning your enthusiasm on the upcoming exhibition or if your mother has any plans releasing a new collection before the year ends. You are only thankful for the Tom Ford sunglasses that you pull down to perch on your nose, blocking the frantic flashing lights of cameras, making your way into the cobblestone building with the help of the doorman.

When the wooden doors close and the yells of journalist cease behind the doorways, your ears are calmed with the sound of classical music, playing faintly along the gallery. It echoes against gravel walls, the effect soothing to you, encompassed in art. The photographs, stuck against large, plain, white boards, lit with dim lighting, is your first priority, slipping your sunglasses off and perching them back on your head. You study each one, carefully, analyzing each snapshot eagerly. 

“(Y/N)!” you hear a familiar voice, and you quickly spin around, meeting the cordial eyes of your best friend’s fiancé. Seokjin strolls towards you with a casual gait in his step. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Hello, Seokjin,” you smile and nod your head towards him. You take note of the wine glass pinched between his fingers, telling yourself to make rounds to the beverages soon. “I never took you as the person to enjoy fine arts.” you joke, watching him chuckle in response.

“I am the grandson of the guy who founded Kim Productions,” he tells you in a light tone. Seokjin’s grandfather is the chief executive of Kim Pictures, a prominent production company known by their several high-grossing films and featurettes; he doesn’t show it on his face nor in his attitude though - he is down-to-earth, which is admirable; men in this environment seem to forget their manners and morals. “However, I’m really just here to support one of my best friends.”

“You’re friends with John Suh?” you question him.

He nods, pressing his lips together which causes his cheeks to puff out slightly. “Yep!” he answers. “We went to the same university together, took the same courses and whatnot. One of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He actually goes by Johnny - he uses John to sound more professional.” 

You nod your head in understanding, attempting to keep your excitement under wraps. You couldn’t bare risking your clean repute to be tainted by pestering Kim Seokjin for a collaboration with your favourite photographer. A smile finds their way on your lips before you open your mouth again. “I’m a very big fan,” you tell him. “His pictures are some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Seokjin asks you, lifting his wine glass to his lips and taking a momentary sip. “I never took you as the type to be engrossed in photography.” 

“I am a model.” you laugh, using the same tone he had used with you prior.

“You got me there,” he jokes. “Johnny’s actually doing an interview for Aesthetica right now, but perhaps once he’s finished I can take you to meet him!” 

“Are you willing to?” you ask him, unsure if he feels as if he’s forced to do so, or if he’s genuinely happy to let you meet his good friend. He nods, an authentic smile gracing his features, and you push back the will to grin in a cheerful manner of excitement, a small, thankful smile finding its way onto your face.

It takes all for you to keep that calm, serene beam on your face though, when you finally come face to face with one of your heroes. He stands tall, taller than you would have ever imagined a person to be, with long brown locks that sway in front of his face and square shoulders that slightly protrude forward due to endless nights of editing his own photos. A knit black sweater by Valentino curtains his body, fit beige trousers covering his endless legs and ending with polished black shoes that you can see your reflection in. 

“Ah,” he says, clasping his hands together in excitement. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’ve seen you in many advertisements and fashion magazines - my husband is a very big fan!” 

You are in heaven at the sound of your idol recognizing you, finally letting your excited grin show on your face as you consent to his kiss upon your knuckles. You had heard of John Suh being cheerful and pleasant through many accounts, you are aware of his philanthropic duties, constantly bringing awareness to the troubles around the world. Often does he donate the money that he’s cashed in from his projects to multiple charities - these moments seem to be the chit-chat that takes place around garden parties and other functions frequently. His husband, Chittaphon, who is known solely as Ten, is a prominent model of whom he had met during a shoot with Vogue. You remember their love story being placed on television, articles littered all over your social media; a charming model known for his playboy repute has fallen for a peaceful, relaxing photographer - their love story is something you could only dream about and desire as your own.

“I’m so excited to meet you,” you tell him, face red with enthusiasm. “I'm a very, very big fan of your works - I’ve always wished for us to collaborate.” 

He lets out a deep laugh, hand resting on his stomach. “Actually, I’ve always tried to book an appointment with you, but your manager would only tell me of dates years into the future.” 

Your jaw drops. “No way,” you let out a laugh. “I’ve been doing the same thing for you!”

The three of you, including Seokjin, converse like old college friends, quickly becoming close as you exchange laughs and slight quips; you and Johnny excitedly make plans for a shoot, promising to clear out the least important schedules in your itinerary. Wholly excited, you’ve got to owe everything to Seokjin, who was able to make this possible for you. As the event nears its end, people beginning to clear out of the warehouse, you find a new friend in Johnny, thankful for the opportunity to make acquaintance with him.

You leave briefly in the midst of the two men’s conversation about their college days to make rounds to the beverages, letting the server pour domaine de la romanée-conti into your wine glass, letting the heavenly liquid attack your taste buds and closing your eyes in delight. The knowledge of your mother not being present with you, having stayed behind in Seoul to run the reigns of the company building thusly not breathing down your neck to keep your eyes open for a potential future husband, is something equivalent to freedom. You listen to classical music playing softly along the gallery for a few seconds, Franz Schubert absorbing into your eardrums, before opening your eyes to find your way back to Johnny and Seokjin. 

You only find yourself frozen when your eyes open to familiar ones staring back at you. 

His hair is still an ash blond, styled much like the first time you saw him, a few loose strands escaping the net of hair gel and kissing the front of his forehead. His lips, which were pulled into a slight scowl when you had first seen them, had the slightest sight of a smirk, the corner of his lip raised faintly. He’s dressed in a fit, pressed, light grey suit by Ted Baker, Daniel Wellington watch peeking from his exposed wrist when he pulls his hand to his lips to sip from his veuve clicquot champagne. Yet, even with the details of his dress and face, you find your eyes stuck on one feature; his eyes. Never tearing from yours, his brown eyes hold an emotion that you cannot decipher. 

It takes you a nanosecond to shake yourself out of your trance, averting your eyes away from his gaze as you pivot on your heel, making your way back through the gallery towards Seokjin and Johnny. You are unsure as to why Jaehyun is here, much like the first time you had seen him at your mother’s galal; you recall Irene talking about his personality and morals, he does not seem like the type to enjoy fine arts. A heat crawls up your neck upon realizing how you must have looked like a deer in headlights upon meeting his eyes, cursing at yourself for being so brash with your staring, feeling the heat cloud your cheeks when you realize he probably must have recognized you from the first time you had seen him - there is no way he will not recognize you now. 

“There you are,” Johnny says, raising his glass when you return. “I was starting to think you had gotten lost. I was going to ask one of my guards to search for a short woman in lilac!”

You shake your head fervently, bubbling up a laugh that didn’t sound so nervous much to your favour. “No, no,” you smile, letting out a sigh in attempt to let go of what had just happened. “I just got distracted.”

You will yourself to catch up on the conversation that you had missed while you were stuck staring into the umber eyes of Jung Jaehyun, but it is all that you could think about, finding yourself falling quiet and finding interest in the way the wine in your glass swirls. The two men did not really notice as they were in deep conversation, and you did not mind. Hushed under your thoughts, their voices become familiar enough for you to decipher - until a new voice began to cut through a conversation. 

“Brother,” a deep, booming baritone voice sounds, and you grip the stem of your wine glass with tension. You glance upwards, Jaehyun right in front of you now, hand on Johnny’s shoulder, whose entire body has gone stiff. His eyes are cast at Johnny, deftly avoiding yours. Brother?, you wonder. They are related? “Father called, he’s had a flight booked for the both of us back to Seoul tonight. We should get going now.”

“Jaehyun, it seems as if you do not understand that this is my exhibition,” Johnny turns to the slightly shorter man. He seems to visibly relax but his fist that hangs loose on his side is still clenched. “It will be rude of me to leave the guests that came to support me so early. You go on that flight. I can handle my own payments, I’ll catch the next flight out.”

Jaehyun huffed, his jaw clenching. From a distance, he was beautiful, but up close, he looks unreal; his lips much plumper and skin similar to porcelain, spotless. You look towards Seokjin, unsure of how to act, but even the confident, humorous man finds solace in staring into his wine glass. “These are father’s orders,” Jaehyun tells him, voice authoritative. “He wants us home by tonight.”

“And we will be,” Johnny says through a grit smile. “I’ll just be late. Please, Jaehyun; tonight is my night. Don’t let your family business ruin this for me as well.”

You are confused as you listen to them, still reeling from the information that you had uncovered that Johnny and Jaehyun are related to each other. Your family business, you repeat in your head. He words his sentence as if he was not a part of the family, and judging by his body language, it seems as if that is what he wishes. Your thoughts are interrupted when Jaehyun lets out a loud sigh, eyes dark as he glares at Johnny. He backs away without a word, before he pivots on his heel, and in a fleeting moment his eyes lock with yours; you suck in a breath as the nanosecond passes you by. His lips, this time, do not form into a smirk, but are pressed into a thin line. Withdrawing back into the crowd, he is the first to tear his eyes away. 

“Sorry about him,” Johnny breathes after a few moments of silence, perching the glass of wine atop a table beside him. He reaches to scratch the back of his neck, grimacing. “My brother is not usually like that. It’s just... he’s stressed about the law firm.”

You nod, listening intently, hoping for Johnny to continue into a discussion about his relation to Jaehyun, wanting to know more about the Jung family, desiring answers to the questions that you have conjured in your brain, but he does not mention it again after that. As the night comes to a close, you have already eased up from the short moment you shared with the enigmatic man; as the night comes to a close, you find yourself exchanging numbers with Johnny, proving him to be a friend you will keep for a long time; as the night comes to a close, the dark, impenetrable eyes that lingers on your form is something you stay oblivious to.

-----

The heat of the Philippine sun beating into your skin is nothing short of pleasant, the scent of salt water lacing its way into your nostrils. The grains of sand that dig into your skin bears no competition to the softness of your carpeted bedroom floors back home You are in paradise; actually, you are in Cebu, Philippines, tanning underneath the blazing sun in Plantation Bay, which is most possibly the closest to paradise you will ever meet. It is after you and Irene had finished volunteering at a children’s center situated in the middle of Cebu City, finding solace in making friends with the children and helping them with whatever you could. Children have always been a soft spot for you, you absolutely adored them and were a natural with handling them, so you jumped at the chance to experience this when Irene father had brought it up in conversation with the both of you. 

“There is a live band playing tonight at the Palermo restaurant,” says Irene, voice deafened by the loud crashing of the ocean waves in front of you as well as the clamorous yelling of children and other people staying in the resort around the pool area. “We should check it out. It’s been a while since I’ve heard music other than jazz and classical being played live.” 

You nod, agreeing to her plans, before the two of you rest in peaceful silence once more, taking in the heat of the sun. You find yourself hours later, in the hotel room that the two of you shared, placing a Salina crop top by Reformation atop your Burberry printed bikini top, and high waisted denim shorts you had acquired from a fast fashion brand while scavenging through one of the malls. Placing some lip gloss and mascara on before ensuring that Irene was ready, the both of you eagerly leave to head to the ground floor, where the restaurant is situated. 

As soon as you step foot into the restaurant, the air is filled with nothing but of music and the smell of savoury foods. You had acquired a taste for many of the dishes, finding it fitting to your tastes, so you were excited to have a full meal and enjoy some music that night. A band composed of four people stand atop a panel, jamming out to local music, people singing along joyfully, which makes you grin in delight. You do not know how to speak in Bisaya, knowing only a few short phrases here and there, but the tune is familiar to you, and so you hum along. 

You and Irene sit in one of the tables on the elevated level of the restaurant, just a few more feet away from the band, enjoying a space that isn’t so crowded. 

“Seokjin tells me that he took you to meet Johnny Suh at his photography exhibition in Bordeaux,” she mentions to you after the waitress had left with your orders. “Tell me, how did it feel meeting your hero?”

“It was amazing,” you giggled, recalling the feeling of meeting someone you had looked up to that happened just a mere few weeks ago. “We actually became good friends - we have our own group chat and everything. Tell Seokjin I said thank you, he’s such a kind man.”

Irene laughs, waving you off. “Anything else interesting that happened on that trip?” she asks. “Hooked up with any French boys? I heard that the hotel you stayed in proves to be a beautiful place to have sex.”

You roll your eyes at her as you take a sip of your water. “No, Irene, I did not bone anyone,” you tell her as she snickers. You suddenly recollect memories of meeting Jaehyun’s eyes; the mere thought sends jolts to run through your nerves. “However, Jaehyun was there.”

“Really?” Irene asks, wonder on her face, before she let out a gasp, bringing her hands to her cheeks as she grimaces. “Goodness, my apologies, I forgot to mention that Johnny and Jaehyun are half-brothers, how could I forget!” she seems to beat herself up momentarily but then calms. “Did anything happen with him?”

You gulp down the urge to tell her about his intense staring. “Not anything special,” you lie. “He and Johnny got into a heated discussion about going back to Seoul, something about their father needing them back at that very moment. However, Jaehyun left before it could get worse.“ Irene seems to relax in her seat as you play with one of the dining utensils placed in front of you. After a few moments of silence, you open your mouth. “Irene, tell me about the Jung family. I’m curious.”

Irene seems to be taken aback from your question but hums, recalling some facts that she may know of. “From what I know, Johnny is the child of Mr. Jung’s first wife, who had left him for one of their butlers. Jaehyun, and their youngest, Jaemin, are the sons of his second, and current, wife,” she pauses. “Apparently, Mr. Jung is still furious about his first wife leaving him, which is why he promised Jaehyun, his second son, the company, instead of Johnny.”

“Oh.” you whisper, heartstrings tugging at the sad story - spite causes people to make the most hurtful actions.

“Seokjin met Johnny in university, they’re very, very good friends,” Irene continues. “From what he’s told me, Johnny and Jaehyun have always had a strained relationship - he’s unsure why, really. I guess you can tell from the way Johnny still continues to bear his mother’s last name. Anyways, Seokjin told me that it was never Johnny’s dream to run a law firm, and when Mr. Jung appointed Jaehyun as the next chief executive officer, the hateful tension between them raised a little bit more.”

“Why?” you find yourself engrossed in the story, waiting for her to tell you more about the Jung family, but she shakes her head. 

Irene sighs. “I’m afraid this is where my knowledge reaches its end,” she says, and you will yourself not to pout, relishing in the newfound information. “Why do you want to know about the Jung family so much, though? Don’t tell me you’ve taken an interest in Jaehyun, (Y/N); he’s devious, please remember that.”

You shake your head fervently, heat rising up your neck. “No! No, of course not,” you tell her, waving your arms in front of your face. “I was just curious as to why he was so snippy. It was quite rude, really, to see him talking down on his brother like that at his own exhibition.”

She hums in response, not quite believing your tale, but your orders arrive before she could say anything else. The two of you enjoy your meal and converse, talking up a storm like the two of you usually do whenever together. When you are halfway into your meal, the calamares fritos proving heavenly to your stomach, Irene stands from her chair with her purse, excusing herself to the bathroom. You nod, letting her go as you continue to eat your meal alone, instead, facing the screen of your phone. Woefully finishing your meal before Irene can return, you take this time to relish in the atmosphere. The music, now traded for a softer sound with velvety guitars and smooth bass, calms the environment, people around you had went from a jovial bellowing to conversing calmly in their circle groups. To your right is a panoramic window that is painted over with watercolour. You study each stroke as you rest your chin on top of your hand. 

“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress’ hushed voice catches your attention, and you turn towards her. “Domaine de la romanée-conti, from the gentleman at the bar.”

You nod your head at her in thanks, curiously accepting the glass of wine. She sets it down on the table in front of you, and you are stumped. Domaine de la romanée-conti is your favourite, and although it was commonplace in many wine enthusiasts’ palates and collections, it was very expensive to purchase. You look around the restaurant, hoping to catch sight of whomever had, not only splurged their money on you, but had correctly guessed your favoured vin dus pays, eyes dashing around each individual until you land on a gaze that causes your breath to hitch.

His smirk is more distinctive now, even under the dim lights of the restaurant. His ash blond hair was not slicked back this time, instead swept aside on his forehead in messy layers. He is dashing even in casual attire, Commes des Garçons fit on his upper body, short sleeves revealing the veins that run through his muscular arms and tight black jeans that capture every curve of his thighs. The look was appalling to you, having grown used to seeing him clad in nothing but expensive suits - but even when you bite back the gasp from seeing him in the area, your eyes are still locked on his. 

He grabs the glass that he had situated in front of him, filled with veuve clicquot, before standing up from his chair and approaching you. Your eyes never leave his; you still cannot pinpoint the emotions stirring inside them, even when he takes his seat in front of you. 

“It’s funny that we see each other so often, but we still have yet to introduce ourselves to each other,” he starts, the voice you had heard almost booming at Johnny’s exhibition a few weeks ago is at a much gentler tone now. He reaches his hand over the table, expecting you to grab it. “My name is Jung Jaehyun, of Jung & Associates.”

You stare at his hand for a few seconds, not knowing whether you should accept it or not. You interrogate yourself in your thoughts, recalling Irene several warnings; but his gaze is far too intense for you to reject it - and even then, you do not wish for sour feelings between the both of you; even if Jaehyun’s moral compass was wrong, you know Decoré would be ruined the day you decide to act antagonistic towards him. You reach your hand over the table as well, taking his and shaking it lightly, memorizing the smoothness of his hands.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Decoré,” your voice is kind, sending him a smile. You remember the time you had given Wong Lucas the same tone and face when he thought he could have a chance with you; it’s almost deja vu when you send it towards Jaehyun - almost. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jaehyun.”

“Same to you,” he begins, a charming smile on his face. He has dimples, and you gulp as your breathing begins to falter. “I know that we met at my older brother, Johnny’s, exhibition, and I just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings you might have from my character that night. I’m sure we can try again, right? A friend of Johnny’s is a friend of mines.”

You press your lips into a thin line; when he’s dressed in casual attire, he takes the appearance of a casual, everyday boy, someone you might have met in college, someone in a different social class - someone authentic and normal, yet he still has the same intensity that he holds in suits worth millions by Hemsworth, even in comfortable clothing. “Of course we can,” you tell him, to which he relaxes, a wider grin displaying on his face and urging the dimple on his cheeks to form deeper. “Thank you for the domaine de la romanée-cont, by the way, it’s my favourite.”

“Just a lucky guess,” Jaehyun smiles at you. “I remember that was the drink you held both times we came across each other.” 

You ignore the feeling of your heart slightly skipping a beat, gulping down a sip of the wine down your throat; Irene’s voice is booming within your head now. “You have a very good memory, Jaehyun.” you say, taking a sip of the sauvignon, the familiar taste flooding your tastebuds. 

“Just the important things,” he says, chuckling to himself as he takes a sip of his champagne. “So, what brings you to the island of Cebu?”

He talks to you so casually, but his eyes drip with intention, staring into your own eyes and unending; it was as if he was mocking you - mocking the lack of power you had compared to him. “My friend, Irene, and I volunteered at an orphanage in Cebu City,” you tell him, setting the glass of wine down in front of you. “What about you, Jaehyun? Are you following me?”

Your eyes widen when you hear the words fall past your own lips, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock as you yell blasphemous words inside your head. You watch his face, waiting for his reaction to your rudeness, but he just lets out a lighthearted laugh, eyes forming into crescents as he bellows out whimsical notes. “I’m actually here for a business venture,” he tells you after his laughter calms down. “But perhaps I should be the one asking that question, hm, (Y/N)?” 

His voice is teasing, a smirk playing on his lips; you swallow your words instead trading them for nervous giggles. “Maybe we just have the same mind, and similar thoughts.” you tell him, adding a small smile at the end of your sentence, looking directly into his eyes. He raises his eyebrows for a nanosecond, as if an expression of surprise took over his face, before he lets out a deep chuckle.

“I hope so,” he says with a simper, voice slightly deafened from the sounds of guitars and basses reverberating off the walls of Palermo. Just as you open your mouth reply, his phone emits a loud ringtone from his pocket, causing him to tear his eyes off of you. He digs for his phone from his jeans pocket, glancing at his screen and seeing his face fall for a split second before he stands up. “I’m afraid our conversation might have to end early. It was nice seeing you here, (Y/N). I hope we can meet again soon.”

You ignore the slight disappointment emerging from the bottom of your throat, taking in a deep breath. “The same to you, Jung Jaehyun,” your voice is hushed. He nods once, smile bright but brown eyes concentrated, a juxtapositioned expression. His action is delayed, eyes lingering on your for one more second, before he pivots on his heel and marches towards the doors of the restaurant. After watching his retreating figure through the glass doors walk around the corner, you let out a sigh of relief, looking down at the glass of wine he had purchased for you, the liquid now sitting near the bottom. You question yourself on the emotions you felt while conversing with him, chalking it up as a side-effect of constant travelling and having no sleep. 

“Hey, sorry, I’m back, Seokjin called,” your best friend finally reappears, taking her seat in the seats Jaehyun had been in just a few mere seconds ago. Before she turns to hang the sling of her purse on the backrest of the chair, she notices your half-drunk wine glass and eyes you with sharpened eyes. “Started drinking without me, hm?” she quips.

You simply just let out a laugh, fingers twirling the stem of the wine glass as you avoid Irene’s gaze, terrified of her knowing, because you cannot form words. Not when the only image that lingers in your mind is the enigma of Jung Jaehyun’s breathtaking, umber eyes burning into yours.

-----

If you had to pinpoint out the few days you dreadfully loath in a year, you would pick the days Fashion Week is active. 

It is not that you dislike Milan; it is an alluring, beautiful, celebrated city, with copious choices of museums such as the Sforzesco Castle, architecture and cobblestone roads rather gothic yet stunningly vibrant and electrifying, and how could you possibly forget the beautiful view of the Navigli and Darsena districts when the lanterns are lit the moment the stars come out, the sight alone bringing back memories of European romance movies and dialogue to begin playing in your mind. It is a beautiful, wonderful city - but just the name being simply uttered, along with New York, Paris, and London, brings flashbacks that you would rather avert.

The warmth of the sunlight spilling through the crème curtains would usually leave you energized and ready for the oncoming day, yet, somehow, it only puts a kink in your attitude as you groan dismally, longing for just a few more hours of sleep. Perhaps it was your alarm tone whose snooze button you kept missing everytime you would reach for the device, the obnoxious tone emitting constantly, or perhaps it was the horde of screaming stylists and the feeling of your manager pulling your legs out of bed, but you couldn’t bare to close your eyes again and instead of the smile you often wear on your risen face, a slight scowl plays on your lips. Sitting up on your plush mattress with knotted muscles, your stylists have already begun to pull you out of bed, along with your cries of lament. You had barely even rubbed your eyes to rid of the rheum that lined your eyelashes from your few hours of sleep before they had forced you down in a makeup chair, pressuring you to look at yourself in a circular mirror lined with LED lights.

Oh, how horrid, you thought. 

This years theme was Bridal, much to your mother’s dismay - she had believed in an old superstition that wearing a wedding dress before you even have the chance to get married only brings bad luck in your love life; but after she had seen the paycheck that would be wired into her account after you walk down the runway, her mind seemed to forget about the superstition altogether. You eyed the several pimples that had found their way onto your forehead in scrutiny, knowing that the makeup artist will most likely opt for a lighter look to fit the theme. 

“Don’t worry, the pieces you will be wearing will take the attention away from your newfound friends.” a teasing, familiar voice makes their way into your ears as you feel two hands resting on your shoulders. You perk up at the voice and look past your reflection to see Johnny’s friendly face, grinning ear to ear as he laughs at his own joke. Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his hand on your right shoulder, cracking your first smile of the day. 

“I didn’t know you were coming, Johnny!” you exclaimed, turning around to face him. He was clad in a Raf Simmons cropped sweater with black trousers by Helmut Lang, the sense of casual attire yet the prices of the simple looking fabrics were more than ostentatious. He ruffles your unstyled hair with a mischievous grin. You and Johnny have grown closer in the months since the two of you met, constantly texting each other back and forth; it has gotten to the point where you consider him a best friend, right beside Irene. “You should have texted me!”

“That would have ruined the surprise!” Johnny laughs, walking towards the table in front of you and leaning against a spot where makeup wasn’t littered everywhere. As the makeup artist begins their work on your face, laying and spreading out tones of beige and browns and the slightest hints of pink, you and Johnny converse naturally. 

“So are you the only one that came?” you ask as you watch the makeup artist brush the slightest of coral toned blush onto the apples of your cheek; you’re unsure if it is Johnny’s presence that helped you become fully awake or if it’s due to the work of the artist, but you are positively impressed with how you look so far. 

“No,” Johnny pauses while he digs through one of the bags of makeup opened on the desk. You had solicited constantly to meet Johnny’s husband, Ten, only ever hearing about him through Johnny’s own words and stories - you wanted to meet him, especially since you had heard he was a big fan of yours. You gasp in surprise at his answer, joy setting down on your shoulders when you realize you might be finally meeting your friend’s lover, but it is swept from underneath you in just milliseconds. “I brought Jaehyun with me.” 

“Jaehyun?” you repeat after a few beats, to which he nods. 

“Yep, you know, my brother,” Johnny says, an unknowing smile gracing his features when he glances at you. “He had actually told me that the two of you bumped into each other in the Philippines; he wanted to come to fashion week to support you.”

“Oh…” you respond, trailing off. “Well, that’s very nice of him.” 

“It is,” Johnny confirms, returning the nude lipstick by MAC back into the unzipped bag before digging around again. “It’s quite peculiar, really. Ever since father appointed the chair to Jaehyun, he’s been… quite antagonistic towards me, but ever since his trip to the Philippines, he’s been… alright. Perhaps the merger with PunoLaw went splendidly.” 

You ignore the flip that your heart makes in your chest while the makeup artist sweeps streaks of highlight upon your cheekbones; there could be a number of reasons why Jaehyun’s temperament had gotten better - a simple exchange of greeting and a purchased drink of wine means nothing in a business trip to a foreign country. 

“Johnny,” you starts off, and he hums in response. “You don’t have to answer, but… have the both of you always had bad blood?” 

“I’m sure as someone next in line for the CEO of a company, you have obligations, right?” Johnny lets out a soft sigh, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he patently probes his mind for the correct words. He sets down the lipstick tube that he had been toying with and looks straight at you, a serious expression on his face. “Well… Jaehyun deals with these… obligations... differently. He’s always been a rambunctious man. He grew up thinking that the company would be passed down to me, so he didn’t care much for his own image - so when the news came out that he would be leading Jung & Associates in the future, he just… lashed out, he became slightly more antagonistic to everyone around him. He was never trained for that position, and he still doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Johnny pauses. “He’s just afraid.”

“Ah…” you hum after a short pause, your voice hanging in the air. As next in line for the executive position for Decoré, you are responsible in retaining your clean reputation; you were to be immaculate with your choices, you were expected to stay absolute and virtuous, they wished for you to hold a record that is the epitome of every parent’s wet dream. The constant demanding of these obligations, as well as the constant invariable conversations of marriage and children from your mother, takes a toll on your own wellness daily; you can never say what you truly want to say, you can never do what you truly want to do. You can never underestimate the press when they hone into your every action, words, glances and body language forged into the world with printed ink and a mass of pixels. One slip of character, and it could mean the end of the empire that your great-great grandmother had established. As you stare into the mirror, hairstylist taking over as they brush your hair with a flat comb, you think to yourself; perhaps Jung Jaehyun is just misjudged, perhaps his true reasons for his actions may not be what the media observes. Irene was not the sole heiress to her family’s fashion institute, so she does not know of the demanding expectations that comes forth with preparing for an established company to be in your hands; perhaps she heard of idle conversations of those envious and took their words of spite as gospel.

As time passes, you quickly come to when find yourself lined up backstage along with other models walking the catwalk. The show had just started, the piercing sound of classical piano music blaring through the speakers deafening to your ears as stylists make last minute touch ups on your makeup and dress. You are adorned in a beautiful metallic white dress by Valentino; the top made entirely of chiffon, with a low cut neckline, diamonds formed to cover your chest area. The skirt, made of tulle fabric, is decorated with strewn diamonds, every move you make sending each jewel to swing, making it look as if you had just bathed in a pool of gems. The billowy sleeves are also strewn with diamonds, you can already see the brilliant reflections of light against the harsh LED bulbs above. 

Your hair is pulled back into a braided low bun, your veil, attached to the bottom of your bun, trails behind you for meters, acting like a cape.; you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you draw closer towards the front of the line. You suck in a deep breath; you’ve walked countless runways in the past, it’s like a fluent language to you - straight back, intense eyes, just an inkling of attitude - yet, your mind seems to be in a haze, and you can comprehend exactly why. As the last model before you makes her way back behind the stage, you close your eyes momentarily, letting out a puff of hair, before setting off through the doors. 

Your fists relax, hands swaying by your side as the bright lights pointed towards the catwalk causes your dress to glimmer in ways you would only predict ever seeing in fantasy movies. You keep your face monotonous, taking in the audience’s gasps of delight and pleasure at the sight of your dress, the familiar sounds of cameras clicking over and over again proving louder than the booming violins blaring through the speakers. Your lips are flat, and expression featureless as you make your way to the very front of the catwalk - this is the dress’s show, and not yours. You see Johnny in the audience, camera in hand as he takes a few shots of your walk, but it is the man beside him that causes your eyes to slightly widen.

He looks far too beautiful, as if he should be the one walking the runway. His ash blonde hair is slicked back but in the way as if he had forked his dry fingers through his locks rather than wet with gel. He is dressed in a suit made of crushed velvet, also by Valentino, trousers highlighting the curves of his thighs, a pure black button up shirt underneath his velvet blazer. The people seated around him were focused on observing him and attempting to catch his attention rather than to give their attention to the piece that you displayed for them; but he - not paying one glance to your gown, not one glimpse to the veil that flowed behind you, not even regarding the rude chatter emitting around him sparked by his presence - keeps his eyes gazing into yours.

The feeling alone is enough to make you lose your breath, the sight of his deep, teasing eyes causing you to open your mouth slightly, urging you losing track of where you were supposed to be. But just as your lips lightly part, you force them closed in panic of feeling your muscles twitch at the movement; you watch as an amused smile plays his lips, before he crosses his arms over his chest. You tear your eyes away from his, pivoting on your heel as you make your way to the back behind the stage - but even through the chiffon fabric of your veil, you can feel the all-too familiar feeling of Jung Jaehyun’s eyes lingering on your form.

The after party is far too congested to your liking, and even though the air was rich with air conditioning, your skin feels moist to the touch after having to weave your way through hordes of people dancing and chatting with each other. You had traded in the wedding dress that you wore for a shorter light pink chiffon dress by Valentino that ended right before your knees, your feet are already sore from the heels that you’ve been wearing the entire day. You wonder if Johnny might be present at this party too, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to weave deeper into the venue through more crowds nor are you sure if your feet have enough vitality for a couple more steps. 

“Leaving early?” a distinctive voice causes you to halt before you can walk through the exit. You turn your head, ready to face impact before facing Jaehyun. He has a small smile on his face, cradling a coca-cola can in his hand. “If so, can I leave with? I lost Johnny in the crowd.”

A smile appears on your lips. “Johnny is over six feet tall, I find it hard to believe that you lost him, Jung Jaehyun,” you tell him, quirking your eyebrow, to which he lets out a chuckle, glancing down at his coca-cola. “But yes, you may join.”

The next few minutes are a flurry of exchanges with the guards at the door and retrieving your coats from the lobby. As you walk through the exit doorways, you can only sigh in content when the cool, December breeze kisses the clammy skin of your neck, sweat accumulated from the overcrowded afterparty. It is twelve at midnight, and the streets house only a few people walking up and down the cobblestone roads. You’re glad that your manager had packed a pair of Tory Burch flats for you in your purse, your heels finally getting the rest they need as you turn towards the direction of your hotel, but the reminder in the form of a person speaks before you could hobble off.

“How long will you be staying in Milan?” Jaehyun finds a pace in walking beside you, hands shoved into the deep pockets of his black Burberry trench coat. You take your arms and pull the front lapels of your tweed coat by Gucci. 

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning,” you tell him, looking at the streets in front of you. The stars were on display in the night sky, and lamps have lit up, dimly illuminating the roads. You can feel the heat radiating off of Jaehyun as he listens intently to you; your stomach flips with an emotion that you cannot decipher. “Mother wants me back in Seoul before she begins clearing the pieces for her collection releases by Spring. And you?” 

“I’ll be here until Tuesday,” he says, in a tone of dread, the both of you slowing down your walking pace. “Jung & Associates are establishing a branch here, I’ll just be doing the finalizations - then I’ll be back in Seoul.” 

You look at him in surprise. “Really?” you question. “How interesting.”

“Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again on the streets of Myeong-dong.” he grins, kilowatt smile spreading across his face causing his dimples to form on his cheeks. You eye them before looking away, feeling your cheeks begin to heat up - you still had to be careful around him, you are unsure as to what his true character is really like. 

You let out a hum. “You know what, Jung Jaehyun?” you start off in a hesitant teasing tone, unsure of how to interact with him; you didn’t want to accidentally set him off, in case Irene was actually correct with her hypothesis, however, you weren’t sure if Johnny was telling the truth either, details far too vague for your liking. “I’m starting to think you’re actually following me.” 

He lets out an amused puff of air as the two of you round a corner, the Navigli canal coming into view, lit up by the streetlamps that litter beside it; it was breathtaking scenery, it never fails to cause your heartbeat to quicken whenever you catch sight of it - everything about the view is romantic. He walks towards the body of water, strolling to the concrete railing. He halts, growing silent, eyes fixated on the number of stars illuminating the night sky. Even through all the dim light posts, you are still able to see the glimmering spots shining outside of the Earth’s atmosphere. You watch the back of Jaehyun’s head as he shoves his hands inside the pockets of his coat. Hesitantly, you approach him, coming to a pause beside him just as you see the profile of his face; his eyes are trained solely on the stars, the ghost of a smile teasing his lips. Turning your head to look at the stars with him, the both of you stay in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“Sometimes,” you’re the first to break the silence, eyes still training on the stars. “Whenever I stroll past this canal, I envision those classic movies filmed in Europe; a confession of love near the body of water, a kiss in the rain surrounded by romantic architecture.” 

You are unsure as to why those are the first words that fall past your lips, but you let out a dreamy sigh, scenes of Audrey Hepburn to Marilyn Monroe, recollecting portrayals of old-school love play in your mind. Jaehyun looks away from the sky, switching his gaze towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“You yearn for love?” he questions you, and you giggle softly, crossing your arms over your chest as a chilling breeze kisses your neck. 

“Doesn’t everyone?” you question him, eyes trailing along the gothic architecture of the streets of Milan. “I’ve dreamt of it since I was a little girl, but everyday, it seems as if my chance at finding it grows more impossible.” 

Jaehyun is silent for a few seconds, you can still feel his eyes lingering on your face. “And what if you’ve already found your love?”

You gulp, biting down on your bottom lip. Your eyes cast downwards towards the body of water before you open your mouth. You aren’t sure why, but your heartbeat bangs against your chest painfully, and your ears are heating up despite the fact that the air is chilly. You let out a sigh, fog of condensation escaping your lips. “I mustn’t.”

“Why not?” 

“Because my mother will defy the man I choose,” you pause, a pitiful smile finding its way onto your face. “I know that I will be forced to marry someone from her inner circle to ensure Decoré’s future. I don’t have a choice in this matter anyway,” you let out a chuckle before turning to him, his eyes training on yours. “The position comes with disadvantages, and it makes me rethink my options even though I’ve ached to lead Decoré all my life.”

“But that does not mean you shouldn’t live,” he trails off. “Just because your life is led by responsibility… doesn’t mean you should avoid love.” 

“There’s no other way, Jaehyun,” you tell him. You extract your hands from deep within the pockets of your tweed coat and press your palms again the concrete railing before you form them into fists. “I’m sure that you understand as well, your company is being handed down to you - you have an image to uphold, right?”

He grows silent. “Yes, I do.” 

“Love is a risk that I’d rather not make.” you say. You have dated in the past, once in middle school, with a boy named Jeon Jungkook, a short relationship that lasted for only three days, and your first year in college, with a boy named Kim Mingyu, which lasted deftly for eight months - both relationships, of which, weren’t serious at all. Kim Mingyu was your first kiss, and first time; you remember the crushing disappointment at the lack of sparks that flew between the both of you each time your bodies were pressed against each other. Additionally, your name has been caught in multiple articles since the beginning of forging your model career that articulated dating rumours with you and innumerable celebrities and other of the elite class, all of which had been false. The feedback that you received during those times were immensely painful for you, and you worked hard to keep your reputation clear since then.

“But life, itself, is a risk. Is it not?” Jaehyun’s voice is hushed, but his eyes are not directed towards you, instead training on the Gothic buildings situated opposite from where you are standing, on the other side of the canal. You press your lips into a straight line, furrowing your eyebrows together as you think of his sentence, not knowing how to reply.

As you open your mouth to finally answer, a familiar tone emits through the air. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and grabs his vibrating phone, letting out a sigh when his eyes land on the screen of his phone. Turning to you, he outstretches a hand towards you for you to shake, a gracious smile on his face, dimples in full view, but his eyes are still dull. You take your hand and enclose your fingers around his, deja-vu as you memorize the warmth of his skin around your cold hands, before weakly shaking his fist.

“I have to go,” Jaehyun says, putting his phone back into his pocket, not accepting the call. You find that peculiar, but it is not your business, so you do not press. “I’ll see you when I get back to Seoul?” 

You smile at him, nodding your head. “Yes,” you tell him. “I’ll see you then.”

And as you turn to part ways, he lingers his gaze on you only for a second more, before pivoting on his heel. Just outside the doors of your hotel that you stayed in while in Milan, the only image that clouds your mind is of the last gaze that he had given you, almost certain that he held longing in his pupils, and as you think of the lasting image that haunts your brain, you are reminded of your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, this time, accompanied with the slight excitement that rises in the pit of your stomach.

-----

The cool, frigid, January air laces into the studio, entirely made of hard concrete, excluding the various set pieces spread around the area. You lay on top of a long, woven seat, bare legs, hair standing up in defense of the chilly breeze, hanging off the side of the arm rest. You are draped in only an oversized, pure-white shirt, the fabric blanketing your sighs and sleeves barely able to hang onto your shoulder; clickings of camera ensue, underneath the humming bass of the Frank Ocean song blaring through the speakers. Today was the day you had finally scheduled your photoshoot with Johnny, eager for the outcome as you let your head slightly hand from the other side of the woven seat.

“Point your chin just a bit upwards, (Y/N),” Johnny tells you from off the set. Johnny uses a particular method of photography, using natural lighting from outside to create an authentic ambience in his photos - the only window in the studio was a large, panoramic one that had the most beautiful view of the garden. His studio is located on the Jung premises, in its own little estate behind the main house; when you had walked through the main gates you had felt completely intimidated by the domineering aura of the house, much larger than your own - it took up nearly two football fields,  and it was then when you realized how powerful this family really is. “Okay, there, perfect!”

The humming of the bass of songs emitting from Johnny’s playlist as well as the clicks of his film camera are the only sounds that emit between the both of you as you try out different poses, boudoir poses come naturally to you. Johnny had given you one of his own shirts to use as clothing, the oversized fabric hanging off you loosely. A break ensues halfway through the shoot, at five p.m., almost three hours since you had begun posing. The sun has already set an hour ago, winter nights a longer span than winter mornings, and you desperately had the urge to pee, having downed an entire bottle of water before the shoot due to your adrenaline.

“Hey, Johnny?” you ask while he reviews his photos. He looks up towards you in curiosity, letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “Where’s the bathroom?” 

“Oh,” he says, setting his camera down before he begins to use charades as a way to give you the directions. “Down the hall, on the third left, fifth door on the right side. If you want, the lower bathroom is a lot more cleaner.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you let out a laugh, before walking out of the studio. When one would say the Jung Estate was big; it was big. Multiple hallways and multiple doors make up the interior of the estate, and it wasn’t even the main house on the Jung premises - this estate was only slightly smaller in size compared to the large castle-like structure that stood before the front gates. It seemed a little silly to you - who needs this many rooms? You were almost sure that Johnny and Ten, who you finally had the fortunate chance of meeting earlier that afternoon, were the only two who resided in this house - yet it’s so vastly empty, not even one inkling of a server or butler. 

You follow the directions that Johnny had given you just a few minutes ago to no attempt because before you know it, you are lost in a daze of paintings and golden decals. He said third right, right?, you thought to yourself as you look around. You weren’t even sure which direction your had come from, the diminishing sunlight from outside beginning to darken the hallways. You let out a sigh as you take a chance, figuring that if you were wrong anyways, you’d just be greeted to an empty room and you’d have to force your bladder to not erupt for a few more minutes until you’d finally find the bathroom. You push a large, mahogany door open, the creaking reverberating off the marble walls of the hallway, and then you pause.

“Jesus, Johnny, can’t you knock?” his voice seems aggravated while he’s hunched over a desk, face buried into a stack of paper. “I told you, I’m doing paperwork right now. I’m b-” 

His eyes automatically widen when he looks up towards the door, eyes snapping to yours. A plane of glass covers his eyes, entwined with a golden frame as they perch neatly on his nose, ash blonde hair in messy ruffles, obviously having had his fingers run through them numerous times throughout the night. He wears a simple, basic, white button up shirt, with simple black trouser bottoms, the most casual attire you have ever seen him wear; yet, he still looked stunning. However, his eyes are boring right at you, the pen in his hand freezing from writing letters as his pupils begin to slowly move down your body.

“Jaehyun,” you finally let out a breath, stammering as you slowly back away from the doorway. “Sorry, oh my gosh, I’m doing a shoot with Johnny right now and I was trying to find the bathroom… um, I got lost.” 

His jaw visibly clenches and you see his adam’s apple bob against his throat before standing up and lightly swipes his hands on his thighs. “Don’t worry about it, I just got taken aback.” he gulps, as he begins to walk towards you, adjusting the glasses that perch on his nose. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Your face immediately flushes, eyes, if not already at their widest, widen even more as you let out a gasp. You have never felt a fabric of clothing cause your stomach to explode in your life, yet, for some reason, that was the only feeling you could muster as you feel the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt brush against your thighs. “I’m sorry,” you apologize once more, letting out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t know this was your shirt. Johnny said it was his.” 

He lets out an amused puff of air. “The nerve of that man, he still continues to steal my clothing for props,” he shakes his head, tsking. “Here, I can show you where the bathroom is - this house has so many unneeded rooms, it’s silly.” 

You follow him through the corridors; the sun had already set completely, the moon now shining above that casts into the hallways through the lined windows. The sound of Jaehyun’s shoes swiping against the floor and the dull sounds of the pads of your feet hitting the marble flooring is the only noise heard in the air between you both, your face still sprinkled with hues of red from the feeling of the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt brushing past your thighs. He walks you into the other hall across from where you had opened the door to his room, and stops right in front of a door similar to the ones around it. 

“Here you are,” he says, pivoting on his heel and pushing the door to the bathroom open, the door creaks as it slightly cracks ajar. You let out a sigh of relief, grinning at him. “You just turned the wrong way, but fortunately you found me, or else you’d probably still be lost in the hallways.” 

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” you tell him graciously, pulling the front of the shirt you are wearing to make sure that your sleeves don’t slip past your shoulders and show them bare. He gives you a silent nod before he begins to walk back to his study room, but you gasp and grab his hand, slightly pulling him back, to which he freezes, turning towards you. 

“What is it?” he asks you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. You are only thankful that the hallways are dim, you can practically feel the heat of your cheeks radiating off your skin. 

“S-Sorry,” you stammer; you seem to be apologizing to Jaehyun repeatedly that night.“I didn’t mean to touch you - that was really rude of me. It’s just… can you wait? Um, I don’t know how to get back to the studio and it’s… really dark, and the hallways are slightly creepy.” 

His worry sets on his face for only a second longer before his lips form into a small smile, eyes forming into slight crescents as he nods. “Of course,” he says. He rests his back against the wall beside the door to the bathroom. “I’ll be right here.” 

You give him a grateful smile before walking into the doors of the bathroom - you first catch yourself in the mirror, face a deep shade of red as you inwardly cringe at how fast the boy had taken you off guard. Slapping your hands on your cheeks in an attempt to calm your heartbeat panging against your ribcage, you let out a few gasps of air. Washing your hands before opening the door again, you only will yourself to keep your stance calm and cool around Jaehyun, but you know that will all crash to the floor the moment you turn the doorknob.

When you step out, you see that Jaehyun is still waiting beside the door, his back pressed against the wall as his thumbs swipe at the screen of his phone. At the crack of light that emitted from within the bathroom, he finally looks up at you with a smile, turning the screen of his phone off with a click and standing upright. You are unsure of what to say, words seem to be caught stuck in your throat every time you look at him. 

“I can walk you to Johnny’s studio,” he lets out a laugh as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his trousers before he runs his hands through his hair, ash blonde locks falling onto his forehead one by one. “I never thought you’d be the type to be afraid of the dark, (Y/N).”

Again, you are unsure of what to say, only letting a giggle fall past your lips in response. Fortuitously, your stomach seems to be dashing around in circles as you watch his eyes trained on yours, shadows of the corridor darkening the edges of his face and the pale moonlight from outside causing his cheekbones to come out even more angular. His eyes are darker than ever, as he watches you, and even though it is dim, you are almost sure the corner of his lips twitch upright. Your breath hitches in your throat and in blushing panic, and so you twirl around, hoping for him to simply catch on and lead you back towards the studio - but his booming, baritone voice, much like the first time you had heard him speak at Johnny’s exhibition in October, causes your step to falter.

“Are you going to do something with the way you look at me?” 

It’s ironic how the weight of a few words can change the entire dynamic of an established acquaintanceship; merely a pin dropping on the ground and detonating into flames to burn down the walls that had already been put up, built with blocks composed with intimidated hesitance and lethal attraction. The inflection of his voice weaved through the air like a ribbon made of silk before devouring your nerves, sending jolts through your body in ripples, breath becoming hitched in your throat as an all too familiar emotion that you’ve been forcing to push down, that you’ve coaxed yourself into feeling mystified about, begins to rise in the pit of your stomach. His words echo through the long, dark corridors before they come to a halt, silence seducing the air between your bodies, but you stay frozen, and your lips stay unmoving. You hear him step closer, the heel of his shoes slightly clicking against the marble flooring, and it sends waves through your body again.

“(Y/N).” his voice is low, stern, the same voice you had heard the night you had heard him speak at Johnny’s photography exhibition.

Your breath shakes when you finally part your lips. “Yes, Jaehyun?” you stammer. 

“Answer my question.” he whispers. He stands close, you can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric that drapes your body. The tension that dances between the both of you is thick, emotions of both excitement and yearning burning in your chest. You feel his breath on the back of your neck, and it urges you to squeeze your thighs together to combat the aching need between your legs. 

“I should be the one asking you that, Jung Jaehyun, since you practically fuck me with your eyes every time we meet.” the tone of your voice is surprising to you when it falls past your lips, your hand snapping to your mouth as you widen your eyes - you hear him chuckle lightly behind you just seconds before you feel the pads of his fingers dance on the back of your neck, gently moving your hair onto one shoulder. 

“I didn’t know you were capable of speaking like that,” his voice juxtaposes his actions, laced with intent. He presses his warm hands against the white fabric on your collarbone before he slides it down to bare your shoulder, the cool air of the corridors causing your thin hairs to stand up. “Always so polite and careful, I wanna know what other noises fall past those pretty lips of yours.”

He roughly turns you around, as if a switch were flipped inside him - it’s only now when you have taken in how tall he was, even if he were slightly shorter than Johnny, his physique was large compared to yours, and that excites you. His umber eyes penetrated yours as he takes his glasses off and sets them on the top of his head before he uses his forefinger and thumb to force you to look at him, proud smirk playing on his lips. His domineering attitude, and your want for challenge - they both crash together like fire, flames licking at each other to create even larger chaos. As you gaze into his eyes, breath rattling your ribcage, you are finally able to discern the emotion that swam within his pupils, an emotion that had befuddled you since the first time your eyes landed on his. Desire. 

“You make me go so fucking crazy,” he whispers before his lips dart to your neck, peppering wet kisses along your jawline. You let out a gasp when he nips at the skin of your neck, the ache in your panties growing stronger every time his tongue flicks out to soothe a spot. He cradles your cheek in his hand as your lean your head back to give him more space, yearning for his touch. You feel the warmth of his hand he had used to cradle your cheek cascading down your body roughly, hovering over your breasts as he continues to lap at your neck.  “God, ever since the first time I saw you, the things I’ve been thinking about doing to you - and now here you are standing in one of my shirts, and, fuck.”

You buck your hips, cupping his cheeks as you push him away from your neck to force him to look back into your eyes - his eyes, sharp, cuts into yours, the meager sight causing an aching throb to pulsate through you once more. “Tell me the things you’ve thought about doing to me,” you whisper, tracing your thumb over the plumpness of his bottom lip, you bring him closer to your face - you feel his hot breath on your lips. “Tell me, and then do them to me.”

A sigh escaped his lips before they finally come to meet yours, enveloping yours against his own in a flurry of desperation - you hadn’t realized how much you hungered for this moment until the feeling of felicity settled within you, your longing moan dancing into his mouth. Perhaps it was his own desperation too that had been building up for months leading up to this moment, perhaps it was the sound that escaped from deep within your lungs that excited him, but his hands rush to cup your sopping panties causes a gasp to escape from your mouth. “I’ve imagined you like this,” his voice is a whisper when you pull away at the sensation of his fingers pressing against your clothed pussy. “Whimpering for me, begging for me, trying to keep yourself quiet.”

Short gasps escape from you as he continues to work against the thin fabric, adding more and more pressure as he moves his hands in circular motions. “J-Jaehyun,” you moan, trying your best to keep yourself quiet. You don’t want your whimpers to travel down the hallway and possibly lace into Johnny’s ears - the act would be mortifying to you. “What if Johnny sees us?”

“I don’t give a damn,” he grunts, hand roughly toying with your clothed clit. Your hips buck against his hand, and if it weren’t for how needy you felt, letting this man have his way with you, you’d be ashamed at how wet you’ve already become, soaking through your panties. Slowly, he moves them to the side before he glides a finger along your bare entrance; sensitive already, you shudder. “Fuck, look at you, so fucking wet and ready. You want me that bad, (Y/N)?” 

You sink your lips into your bottom lip, looking into his eyes through your eyelashes. Your face is hot, blushing as his tongue flicks out from between his lips to lick them. He continues to glide his long finger against you, eyes boring into yours as he does, watching as every expression of eagerness flashes across your features. His forefinger mockingly dips into your entrance for a fleeting moment, the sensation of him inside you one second and gone the next causing you to mewl out in frustration. He lets out a dark chuckle as you furrow your eyebrows, willing yourself to keep it together.

“I asked you a question, darling.” he mumbled darkly, dipping the tip of his forefinger inside of your sopping heat once again. “Answer my question and you’ll get your prize.”

“Yes, Jaehyun,” you bite back your moan when he dips his finger inside you again, taunting you. Your breathing becomes heavy with every dip he makes, aching for him to do something about the need inside of you, bucking your hips against his hand, soaked with your juices. “I want you so bad, I want you so fucking bad. Please, Jaehyun, fuck, please.” 

He lets out a dark chuckle beside your ear before he plunges the fullness of his forefinger inside of you, a gasp escaping you at the sudden entrance. He pumps the single finger in and out of you with ease, spreading your legs wider with his knee; he has large hands with long, slender fingers, the sensation of just one doesn’t meet your fancy, but it’s enough to relieve the itch that had begun to build inside of you. “Fuck!” 

“So fucking tight,” he grunts, watching your face contort into pleasured expressions, condescending smirk turning into an enchanted one, lips parting and eyebrows turning upward. He adds his middle finger, spreading your pussy wider as he begins to pick up the pace of his thrusting, arm flexing as the moonlight hits the veins that decorate along his forearms. “Shit, (Y/N), has your tight cunt been fucked before?” 

All you could muster out was a whine as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, your mind nothing but a fog of haze while he reaches deeper and deeper into your core, as if he were planning to leave his mark inside of you. You had been fucked before, by your last boyfriend, Mingyu, but not like this - never like this. Foreplay was never on his mind, giving you pleasure was something he had never thought of doing; you barely even remember a time he had given you a leg-shaking orgasm, which, if Jaehyun continued to reach inside of you like that, you’re sure you’ll have your first one by tonight. “So fucking tight, all for me, isn’t that right, darling?”

“Fuck, Jaehyun!” your voice is thin, still attempting to keep yourself hush, not wanting the immoral act to be known to your friend just a few doors down the hall, still waiting on your return from your break - but you’re almost sure that the lewd, wet noises of his palm slapping against your wet cunt that echoes against the pillars and golden framed paintings that line the corridors may prove your wish hopeless. Jaehyun’s fingers brush against the spot that causes your legs to shake, and with a knowing glint in his umber eyes, he continues to brush against it. “Jaehyun, shit, right there, fuck! Fuck, yeah, just like that!”

He heeds to your words, the tips of his fingers grazing against your g-spot repeatedly, and you feel yourself unravelling. It takes all for you to not let your eyes roll to the back of your head, screwing your eyes shut as you focus on his fingers stretching your walls out in a steady, rough motion; walls beginning to clench around him, you feel your desired orgasm coming. “You’re gonna cum, (Y/N)?” he questions you as your walls quiver around his digits. “You’re gonna cum just from the use of my fingers alone? Dirty girl, tell me who owns this cunt.” 

A hot sigh leaves your lips, barely focusing on his voice due to the yearning of your release. Whining, you open your eyes again to look into his, begging with your pupils to get him to continue, but his face is monotonous. “J-Jaehyun,” your voice is weak. “I’m gonna cum.” 

“Answer my fucking question, (Y/N), or else I won’t let you cum at all,” his tone is dark, which gives you all the more to whine as he picks up the pace of his fingers, sinful noises filling your ears. The act alone causes the knot in the pit of your stomach to unravel just a little more, and Jaehyun leans down to bite the skin of the crook of your neck. “Fucking tell me who owns this dirty little cunt, (Y/N).”

“You do,” you whimper, voice juddering with every thrust his fingers make. “You do, it’s yours, it’s all fucking yours! P-Please!” 

“It’s all mine?” he taunts you, he’s panting now as well, digits flashing in and out of you at a speed you weren’t even aware that a human can make. “What is? What’s all mine?”

“Fuck, Jaehyun!” you whine in aggravation. The aching need to orgasm causes the strain you’ve put on your words to escape, voice loud against the marble walls. “It’s yours! This cunt is all yours! It’s fucking yours! It’s yours to fuck and, and, it’s yours t-to… fuck! I’m coming!” 

It hits you in waves, the feeling of pleasure enveloping your body as you feel your pussy pulsate against his hand. You crane your neck back as he continues to lap at your neck, leaving memoirs of his presence in the form of soft-red markings across your skin. As the orgasm leaves your body, you are left with quivering legs, barely mustering the energy to hold yourself against the marble walls, much to the man’s amusement. It’s obvious what the two of you had done; his hand glistens with your juices against the light of the moon that travels through the planes of glass across the hall; the fabric of the shirt that he had adorned was wrinkled from your pulling and clenching of fists; your lips, that had been painted a deep shade of red prior, were now a lighter red, and Jaehyun seemed to have the same shade on, and the lingering fluid that escaped from your cunt during your orgasm lines across your inner thighs. 

As you come down from your orgasm, his lips find their way to pressing against yours once more, gentle in touch this time. Your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him close, closer than you had ever thought of him being. You feel pricklings traveling through your nerves as his tongue enters your mouth, and you find yourself yearning for more just before he pulls away, panting heavily. As he parts his lips to speak, you hear footsteps walking down the hall, and you gasp, pushing him off of you and adjusting your attire and hair, letting the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt fall past your thighs to cover the residue of what had just happened. Jaehyun watches you with an amused smile on his face, wiping his hands on the back of his trousers and grabbing the glasses that stayed atop his head and perching them back on his nose again, carelessly brushing his pure-white sleeve against his lips that causes the dark lipstick that you had stained his face with to rub off. 

“(Y/N)!” you hear Johnny’s familiar voice call just before he comes around the corner, the flashlight of his phone dashing around the corridor. He turns to the corridor you and Jaehyun both stood in, jumping in shock for only a second - possibly thinking he had come across ghosts - before visibly relaxing and walking towards you in his confident gait, his phone still flashing in the darkness. You squint, terrified that he might be able to deduce what happened between the both of you with the torchlight. “God! You were gone for so long! I heard yelling! What happened?” 

“She got lost trying to find the bathroom, and I scared her.” Jaehyun lies with ease, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. You eyed him for a few seconds, gaze lingering his body - he seemed so casual, as if what had just happened sprung only in your mind, but you are still able to detect a trace of your MAC lipstick on the side of his lips and the messy waves of his hair that your hands were entangled in. Yet, you were still appalled at how easy the lies fell past his lips. “She started yelling at me, it was really funny.” 

“Jaehyun, you bastard,” Johnny sighs, sending him a sharp eye before turning around and patting your hair down. For a second, he squints towards your lip, and you fear that he found the first clue of what the two of you had been doing, but he seems to ignore it, eyes flashing back up to yours. “If you want me to beat my brother’s head in with my camera, I’ll be happy to do it.”

You open your mouth to answer but Jaehyun’s voice interrupts you. “Hey, if it weren’t for me, she would still be lost in your stupid winding corridors,” he gruffs, crossing his arms over his chest; the action highlights the muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt but you will yourself to look away. “She’ll just have to owe me. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?” 

His voice has a hint of amusement in it, tone lighthearted as he sends you a smile with crescent-shaped eyes, and your heart jumps in not lust, but with something else you have yet to figure out - but you’re aware of the hidden connotations of his sentence, the feeling that Jaehyun had reached into your core slightly coming back at the thoughts that race around your mind of images of him. You only nod, throat going dry, before smiling simply.

“Yes, Jaehyun,” you heed his words, and for a fleeting second, an amused smile on his face shone with a lordly flame. “I owe you.”

-----

The night that you laid in bed trying to daze into slumber after your first encounter with Jung Jaehyun proved a sleepless one, one that kept you rolling over and over again in your plush bed, constantly flipping your pillows and kicking your duvet out of sheer frustration. The memories of Jaehyun’s sinful words and breathy grunts, recalling his fingers flashing in and out of you, brought back the itch inside of you like no other; you only fell asleep after finding solace in your own fingers, and even they couldn’t cause you to reach the heights Jaehyun had shown you.

You do not tell Irene; you couldn’t tell Irene, and you shouldn’t tell Irene, because you are certain that she will blow a gasket the moment the man in question’s name leaves your lips because you did not listen to her. You have never lied to your best friend before, nor have you ever kept a secret from her - but it is for the best for the situation. Besides, you and Jaehyun were only using each other for each other’s body, to let desires that shouldn’t be exhibited in public out - at least, that’s what you believed, and your best friend doesn’t have to know that. Yet, each time she walks to your side with an indication of concern in her brow, you find it hard to keep your secrets locked within your lips.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” asks Irene, her voice muffled underneath the soft chatter of a high-end lounge she had invited you to. You stare down into the liquid of your tonic water, choosing something non-alcoholic in order to keep your honesty and deceit under control. “You’ve been really quiet lately. Is there something troubling you?”

“No worries, Irene,” you muster a small smile, genuine enough to see her body relax as you swish your water in your glass. It’s grating to know how effortless it was for you to lie to her. “Nothing is the matter. I’m just a little tired from my schedules lately, I’m really sorry if it’s been making you uncomfortable.” 

She pouts slightly, not quite believing your tale. “(Y/N),” she tells you, grabbing your hand. You felt guilt shake through your nerves at her touch - but you cannot tell her about you and Jaehyun, even if your life depended on it. “Don’t worry about me, okay? If something is the matter, tell me, okay? I’m your best friend - your sister - for a reason.” 

“Of course, Irene.” you say, the fib falling past your lips and disappearing into thin air. She nods once, a concerned gaze lingering on you for only one last second before she tears her eyes off of you to look back at the menu on the bar in front of her. Irene had invited you to accompany her at a new lounge that had opened up in Myeong-dong, apparently owned by a good friend of hers named Lee Taeyong. Seokjin was due to show up in a few minutes after a scheduled meeting, and according to Irene, may have in tow a friend of his that ‘you may be interested in.’

As she turns her attention towards the menu, you find yourself gazing back down at your tonic water, watching as the liquid swashes against the clear collins glass, soon becoming bored with it. Your eyes then find themselves exploring the sight of the lounge in front of you - you and Irene sat right in the middle of the lounge, at the bar, the sleek black marble table rounded as baristas around inside the circle juggle around alcoholic drinks and other platters to deliver to their patents. Outside of the circle, there are multiple seats with tables, occupied with several gentlemen in suits and ladies covered in Dior. The extravagance of it all was very familiar to you, for having grown up in an environment much like it, regardless; you would be lying if you were to say you hadn’t grown tired of it.

“Oh, they’re here!” Irene’s voice causes you to snap out of your daze and look towards the entrance in front of you, Seokjin’s familiar face coming into view as he hands one of the servers his Burberry coat; behind him is a man not much shorter than him, jet black tufts of hair and sharp observant eyes. For a second, you feel your heart race in your chest - whoever Seokjin had brought is definitely a beautiful man, and perhaps Irene was right about taking an interest in him, however, you shouldn’t jump before you had talked to him. 

“Hello, darling, hello (Y/N),” Seokjin embraces the two of you before he stands out of the way to pull in the man following idly behind him. Upon closer inspection, his facial features are some of the most sharpest you’ve ever seen - his eyes, obviously sharp from a distance, are cutting up close, jawline whetted and embracing against his sleek lips. You feel as if you’ve seen him before, but you can’t pinpoint where. “This is Kim Doyoung, he’s currently filming a movie under Kim Productions right now.”

The familiarity hits you like a train as you recall seeing his face on your screen many times - he’s a very celebrated actor in South Korea, especially so since he had broken into the Western film industry. You weren’t much of a big fan of movies, finding yourself falling asleep no matter the genre or amount of stars the movie acquired, but you know a famous face when you see one. After he greets Irene with a kind smile, you stretch your hand outwards to address him, a gracious simper on your face. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doyoung. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

You and Doyoung are quick to become close, letting the engaged couple next to the two of you converse to themselves. As the night drones on and as people in identical Brunello suits and Dior dresses pile in and out of the lounge, you and Doyoung share stories of your childhood, finding out that he wasn’t born into the world of money like you were, instead having to find his way up and through the industry by making sacrifices. You discover that he has an estranged relationship with his parents, instead finding familial solace in his brother who is also an actor, named Gongmyung. You learn of his hobbies, that he enjoyed singing and reading, and find out that before he had pursued the world of acting, he had thought of heading into the direction of law and government. 

For an hour and a half, you find yourself delved into the person that is Kim Doyoung, realizing that this is discussion prevails information of most people you know other than your two closest friends. In the middle of a conversation on the topic of college, you begin to abandon the lingering memories that had been taking up your mind by the man who had left remnants of himself in it. Perhaps, you spoke too soon.

“Kim Doyoung,” the familiar voice sends jolts through your body as if it were an involuntary impulse. You tear your eyes from Doyoung’s sharp, yet friendly gaze and let them sink into Jung Jaehyun’s soft, but intense ones. He is dressed in a plain black button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he cradles a glass of cheval blanc, arm adorned with his Daniel Wellington watch, hand deep in the pocket of his black trousers. His hair is slicked back but to the side, few strands swaying against his forehead. A smirk plays on his lip, and the sight of it makes your thighs clench in response. “It’s been a while since we’ve last met.” 

“Jung Jaehyun, long time no see,” Doyoung’s voice holds restraint when his eyes meet Jaehyun’s, a look of revolt flashing in them before he stands to his feet to bow. “I heard that Jung & Associates will be under your command soon. Congratulations.” 

“Yes,” he concurs, taking a sip of his champagne as he pulls up a chair next to Doyoung. He has not looked at you once since arriving into the conversation, but something about his tone of voice leads you to think he is blatantly aware of your presence, such as you are of his. “And I heard that you starred in a film that was nominated for an Academy award? How delightful. It was the one with the zombies, right?” 

Doyoung sets his glass of sauvignon blanc onto the bar, gulping down the liquid. “Yes.”

“Well, congratulations to you.” a haughty smirk guised as an amiable smile makes its way onto Jaehyun’s face before his eyes finally land on you, training on your face for a few seconds before they begin to slowly make their way down your form clad in a tulle minidress by Marchesa. “(Y/N), a pleasure to see you here.” 

“Jaehyun.” you nod once, tightening your fingers around the stem of your wine. “It’s nice to see you here too. The two of you know each other?”

Doyoung looks up from his glass, towards you. “The two of us were in multiple classes together during college, before I dropped out to pursue acting,” he explains. He seemed apprehensive, and you acknowledge why - the presence of Jaehyun is far too strong to bear. “We are very close friends. I see the both of you are close, as well.” 

Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he says anything. “Actually,” you say, correcting him. “Jaehyun and I are just acquaintances - we know each other through his brother, Johnny.” 

“Ah, I see.” Doyoung nods, before he begins occupying himself with sips of his wine. Through the awkward silence, you turn your gaze to Jaehyun, whose eyes train on you with an emotion you can only decipher as need, a knowing glint in both of his pupils. Flashes of his fingers disappearing in and out of you play through your mind, and you cross your legs together to combat the growing feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“So what brings you here, Jaehyun?” you ask the man after he orders himself another glass of cheval blanc; Doyoung, in between the two of you, stays silent. 

“I just finished a meeting with Park & Kim Law, and was about to head to the exit when I saw you and an old friend conversing, and I thought, why not?” he says, leaning forward on both of his elbows to direct his gaze fully onto you without the diversion of Doyoung’s head. You quirk your eyebrow for a nanosecond at the fleeting thought of a law firm meeting taking place at a lounge, but you let it go. “And you, (Y/N), what brings you and Doyoung here? A date, perchance?” 

His voice is soft, but with the slightest inkling of venomous jealousy, quirking his eyebrows as the words leave his mouth. “No!” you find yourself saying far too quickly, an amused smile making its way onto Jaehyun’s face. “Doyoung and I actually just met, we’re here with Seokjin and Irene.” you turn around to face the engaged couple who were sat next to you, deep in conversation as if they were in their own world. You turn back towards Jaehyun, whose eyes were not looking at yours, but are now gazing at someplace lower. “Actually, I was just about to leave. I have a schedule tomorrow morning.”

“I see,” Jaehyun hums, his top teeth sinking down into his bottom lip as he listens to you. He turns to Doyoung, resting his jaw against his fist, almost taunting him. “Will you be accompanying her, Doyoung? Drop her off at home?” 

Doyoung lets out a sigh as he takes another swing of his wine, looking up towards you, the nervousness behind his eyes since Jaehyun had arrived replaced with a flame. “I’m afraid I still have business to discuss with Seokjin,” he says apologetically, straightening his back and turning his body fully around to ignore Jaehyun’s presence. “If I could, I would gladly drive you home - the streets aren’t safe this time of night.”

“It’s alright, Doyoung,” you let out a laugh, setting a hand down on his shoulder - as you do, you feel Jaehyun’s eyes burning through your hand. “I’ll just call my chauffeur, which, speaking of calling, may I ask for your number?” 

He complies, and you let out a shaky breath as you feel Jaehyun’s gaze lingering on your skin growing stronger and stronger; just as Doyoung hands you your phone back with his newly added contact, Jaehyun stands from his seat. “I can drive you home.” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise before a slight smirk makes its way onto your lips. “You don’t have to, Jaehyun, really,” you tell him, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’ll just call my chauffeur - they are always on duty.”

“No, I insist,” Jaehyun speaks, far too quickly to save face. The tips of his ears are red, much to your pleasure; he’s jealous. “Doyoung is right, the streets aren’t safe this time of night, and I think it would be better for you to come with me considering that we already do have an established knowledge of each other - plus, it’s what Johnny would want for me to do. What’s your address?”

You simply quirk your eyebrow at him before standing up from your seat and collecting your things, reciting your address as Jaehyun puts it into a GPS app on his phone. As you turn towards your best friend, deep in conversation with her fiancé, you apprehensively tap her on her shoulder. Irene turns towards you in the middle of a sentence with a look of wonder on her face when she sees you ready to go. Searching for the will to lie to her face once again, you force your shaking breath to calm. “Hey, Irene, I have a really early schedule tomorrow - I’ll be leaving, alright?”

“Oh, is Doyoung taking you home?” asks Irene, eyes flashing to the jet-black haired man still seated on his stool, staring into his glass. You shake your head.

“No, Jaehyun will be taking me home,” your voice is nonchalant enough to not raise suspicion, but Irene’s eyebrows raise in disturbance the moment his name slips from your lips. She leans forward to spot Jung Jaehyun on the other side of Doyoung, already throwing on his tweed coat as he sends her his usual gracious, kilowatt smile. She leans back to you and parts her lips to ask why he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, as well as why you were so casual in leaving with him, but you cut her off. “Don’t worry, Irene. If anything happens, Johnny will beat him up. It’s fine, don’t worry.” 

“Are you sure, (Y/N)?” Irene is wholly worried, grasping your forearm as she pulls you forward, closer to her, speaking in a hushed tone. “Seokjin and I can drop you off instead.”

“Irene, I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I don’t want to ruin your night, okay?” You let out a sigh, straightening your back again and giving her a radiant smile of deceit to tell her that you will be alright. She lets out a huff of air in defeat, nodding her head. As you pivot on your heel, you keep your head turned towards Irene as you begin to walk towards Jaehyun, hands already buried in the pockets of his coat. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Of course.” Irene says with a tight lip. Your eyes flash towards Doyoung, who watches you with eyes filled with an emotion you cannot decipher, before you flash him a smile. 

“Doyoung,” you nod your head. “I hope to see you soon, as well.”

“Of course.”

The cool January air obnoxiously hits your exposed legs the moment you step out of the lounge, the VIP parking lot littered with snow as you trail behind Jaehyun’s large form. You hear the jingling of his keys and the tone of his car beeping not too far ahead; he was quiet, and it caused a tension to seduce the air between the two of you. He opens the passenger side of his sleek noir Mercedes to let you climb in before rounding to his side, slamming his door closed. The purr of the engine is smooth as it glides down the city streets, flashes of flight originating from the tall buildings above decorating the skin of your thighs. A few moments later, you’re the first to part your lips. 

“Jaehyun,“ you start, voice calm, but your intentions are clear; teasing lightly laces your words.. “Is something the matter?”

He takes a few seconds to answer, you see his jaw clenching before he opens his mouth. “No,” he simply says. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you can’t bear to keep the growing smirk off your lips. You play with the hem of your Marchesa dress, the tulle thin between your thumb and forefinger. “It just seems as if you’re… angry. A little tense.” 

“I’m not,” Jaehyun’s voice is calm, harmonized by the low purr of his engine. “Just a little confused as to why you seem so interested in Kim Doyoung.” 

You quirk your eyebrow as you listen to his tensed words, as if he were keeping himself contained within his body. You let out a scoff. “I’m not interested in him,” you trail off, watching the city pass you by as Jaehyun begins to near your estate’s territory. “I’m just… a little curious.”

“I can promise you, (Y/N),” he mutters. “There is nothing about that man you should be curious about.”

“Really?” you challenge him, turning to look at him again. The lamp posts that litter the streets highlight his facial structures in a way you have never seen - sleek cheeks cut from his high cheekbones, warm brown eyes cast shades darker; you never really noticed how long his eyelashes are, kissing his under eyes. “The way you jumped to steal me from him leads me to believe that there is.”

You watch as his lips slowly curl into a wry smirk, letting out a huff of air as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Are you presuming that I’m jealous, darling?” he lets out a chuckle, eyes turning into crescents but his tone is sinister. You press your thighs together. “Is that why you were suddenly so pursuant in flirting with him in front of me? You want to make me jealous? Because I saw you moments before I arrived and you were merely chatting with him like a normal friend - it wasn’t until I sat on that stool when you began to feel his arms through his blazer.”

An amused smile plays on your lips as you look back out the windshield window, seeing that he has arrived to your gates. The guard that mans the metal doorways only wakes up from his slumber to press the button that opens it, Jaehyun slowly driving his Mercedes through your gateway. 

“The fact alone that you had been watching me and analyzing the touches I gave him says a lot, Jung Jaehyun,” you say in a hushed voice as he pulls up at the front of your house. The lights of your home were all turned off, signifying that your mother isn’t home, and neither are any of the maids - it is a Saturday after all. You turn to him, a teasing smile on your face, seeing that he had already been gazing at you. “But if you’re not jealous, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let him fuck me until I can’t walk.”

When Jaehyun’s lips mesh into yours in a flurry of desperation, the words that you had let fall past your lips fly out the window, his hands on the back of your neck as he pulls you closer towards him over his console. He unbuckles his seat belt before he turns his entire body to you, lips parting as his tongue enters your mouth; you let out a moan as he does, combing your fingers through his ash brown locks. 

“Not here,” you whisper, pulling away, his eyes opening before he looks at you in worry. “I want you to fuck me in my bed.”

The seconds it took for you and Jaehyun to climb out of his car, walk up your marble stairs, fish for your keys inside your purse blindly as the two of you continued to kiss each other before finally unlocking the door proves worth it as the rashness of his actions heightened the moment you shut the door behind you; he presses you against the whitewood and attaches his lips to yours again, hands set on your hips as you ring yours around the back of his neck. He smells of saffron and jasmin, slightly quiet moans escaping from his throat. 

“Fuck,” he says, playing with the hem of your dress, trying to pull it down your body but the handmade strains deem too sturdy. “Get this shit off.” 

“It’s Marchesa.” you pout, his eyes lingering on your lips, plump from kissing his own. 

“I don’t give a shit what it is or isn’t,” Jaehyun grunts. “I want it off of you. Now.” 

You heed to his word, reaching for the zipper on the side of your waist as you connect your lips to his again, the neckline of your dress relaxes, and as his tongue dances with yours, he slowly begins to slide your dress down your form. He pulls away to look at your figure, wearing only a lace black bra with matching panties, and he lets out a grunt. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispers, hands travelling up your body to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. His lips are close to your ear before he begins to kiss spots on your neck, tongue moving languishly against your skin. “God, I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

His words cause you to suck in a breath as you tighten your thighs together, and he seems to notice, a deep chuckle forming from his throat. You lean your head to the side to allow him more space to your neck, your hands travelling from his broad back to the front of his chest, trailing down towards his jeans. When you feel how stiff he is through the denim material of his pants, you pull away from him. He looks at you with wonder, your hooded eyes and smirk ringing clear to him as you slowly begin to push him towards your staircase, having him sit down on one of the carpeted steps while your knees touch the cool marble flooring of your entrance hallway. 

“You said it yourself, I owe you, don’t I?” you whisper as you unbuckle his belt. He watches you as you do, enchanted with the way your fingers moved to free his cock from their strain. When you finally release his stiff shaft from his underneath his boxers, you practically salivate at the sight - he was long and thick, the tip of his head pink in desperation. When your lips wrapped around his cock, he sinks his upper teeth into his bottom lip to keep a moan from escaping his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as your tongue slicks around his throbbing tip. 

You keep your eyes trained on his face, taking in every sinful expression that makes way on his angelic features; it should be a sin to look as angelic as he is but have the most sinful sounds fall past his lips - but the thought excited you. Ever since you had first seen him, Jung Jaehyun had looked like nothing else but like an art piece from the Romantic era had come to life ; with his gentle yet captivating umber eyes, to the way his lips curl as if he was always hiding a secret - to see him in such a filthy, obscene circumstances caused you to yearn for more. Even as you begin pumping your mouth around his cock, you yearned for more; for him to bury himself deeper into your throat. 

“Fuck! Yes! Yes, fuck, that’s it, take my cock into your pretty little mouth,” Jaehyun grunts, raking his fingers through your hair to form a makeshift ponytail, holding your head steady against his crotch. He begins to slowly rock his hips up and down, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, lewd noises emitting from the back of your throat; you look up at him through your eyelashes with pleading eyes. He fucks into your mouth slowly, making sure he doesn’t hurt you, but deeply, hissing at the feeling of your throat spasming every time the tip of his cock grazes against it. 

“That’s it, darling, fuck, your throat feels so good.” he grunts as he does one long thrust, feeling your mouth around the entirety of his cock, burying it deep in your throat for a few seconds. As he keeps it there, relishing in the spasming of your tongue and the swishing of your saliva, your gag reflex threatens you, and you clutch at the flesh of his thighs for support, screwing your eyes shut. He slides out, strings of saliva connecting your plump lips to the base of his cock as you cough out in strained breaths; your eye makeup has already began to run down your face. “Such a good girl aren’t you, letting me fuck your mouth?”

Your eyes are trained on his when he stands up from his seated position, keeping your position kneeled down on the marble floors; biting your lips stained with saliva and lingering droplets of Jaehyun’s pre-cum, you nod meekly which causes a smirk to spread on Jaehyun’s lips. Your eyes trail down to his cock again, wanting it back in your system, but he seemed to have other plans as he hauls you to stand up by your hair. His other free hand makes its way to your clothed pussy, pressing against the moistened fabric, taking in the way your eyebrows furrow in hunger. 

“Look at you, such an eager whore,” He chuckles, hot breath pressing against your ear as his middle finger slides against the thin fabric pressed against your sopping heat. Your hips buck against the teasing single digit, and he lets out an amused laugh at your desperation. “All this just from my fingers? All this because I fucked your throat? Who made you this wet, darling?” 

You only focus on his finger sliding against your clothed folds, your eyes hooded as you clutch your hand against Jaehyun’s forearm. It’s when he tugs on your scalp again, forcing you to look into his eyes, when you realized he had asked you a question, dark eyes burning into yours. You open your mouth, breath shaking at the little contact. “You did, Jaehyun.” 

“Shit,” he grunts. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Upstairs, left, very last door.”

He wastes no time in sweeping you off your feet, letting out a light gasp as he effortlessly carries you up the stairs, following the directions that you had given him, your legs dangling while you wrap your hands around his neck, lips attaching to his skin. He kicks your bedroom door open, and throws you on top of your blankets. When your back hits against your familiar plush mattress, you spend no time in recognizing the comfort you had grown up in as Jaehyun quickly pulls your panties down your legs, getting onto his knees on your carpeted floors. 

The moment you feel his warm tongue glide through your wet folds, you gasp out his name, throwing your head back at the unfamiliar sensation. Your toes curl as Jaehyun’s tongue circles around your clit, nub sensitive causing you to buck your hips forward; your fingers make their way into his hair, grabbing at his ash blonde locks to bring him closer. Your ex-boyfriend, Mingyu, had never given you this type of pleasure before, your few times together only ever resulting in a quick blowjob and dull sex that would only last for a few minutes - you have never been on the receiving side of oral, nor have you ever felt your body ache with pleasure at the most bare minimum things. Every touch Jaehyun puts on your skin spreads through your body like fire, and you want it more and more.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet,” Jaehyun peppers the inside of your thigh with memoirs of his lips in the form of deep red bruises, the tip of his middle finger slowly tracing over your slit, coating his digit with your juices and of his saliva. You shudder at the familiarity of his fingers against sliding through your folds, having yearned for them inside of you again since your own couldn’t reach as far as he could - and when he eagerly slipped two fingers inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. He grins as he hears the sinful sound. “Jesus, so fucking tight.”

He leans forward once more, reattaching his lips to your pussy, his tongue sliding against your clit in circular motions while begins to move the digits in and out of your slit, already having found a certain spot that led you whimpering his name. “J-Jaehyun,” you breathe out in short gasps, furrowing your eyebrows together as the sensation of his long fingers spreading you out racks your mind. “Fuck, Jaehyun, right there.”

He continues to fuck you with his fingers, tongue flashing past your clit in lewd motions - his hand travels up your body, goosebumps adorning your skin with each touch before he pulls down your lace bra, your nipples hardened against the cool air. He rolls your nub with his free hand, eyes trained on your face and taking in your expressions as the pleasure overtakes your body. He continues to graze the pads of his fingers against your spot, and your back arches off your mattress, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Are you gonna cum, darling?” he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, but his fingers continue to fuck into you. He looks up at you with taunting eyes and the sight only brings you to the edge further. The sight is enough to take you over the edge, the pads of his fingers grazing over your spot just one last time before your orgasm rakes through your body, your hips bucking against his still moving fingers - you mewl at his presence in your sensitive core. “That’s right, cum all over my fingers, just like that.” 

Your breathing is faltering, but Jaehyun wastes no time before he kneels onto your bed, the mattress dipping as you attempt to catch your breath. He peers down at you with a soft smile on his face, juxtaposing the lingering remnants of your juices and his saliva that frames his plumped lips. You only find peace for a fleeting moment at his tranquil expression before you feel his throbbing tip slide against your slit, the expression on Jaehyun’s face transforming into a teasing one. 

“Look at you, you’re a mess,” he taunts you, sliding his tip against your pussy, coating his head in your juices. You shudder at how close he is to finally plunging deep inside of you, but still being so far away. You whimper as he continues to do it, and although you’ve already had your orgasm, the aching need that had occupied the pit of your stomach since you had left your first encounter forming in your stomach again. “Jesus Christ, what will become of you once I give you my cock?”

“Fucking hell, Jung Jaehyun, just fuck me already.” you let out a frustrated whimper, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to pull him closer, his body falling on top of yours as your lips move against his. He chuckles against them, before he positions himself against your slit, slowly pushing in. You pull away from his lips when he enters you, a gasp falling from your slacked jaw as he stretches you open.

“Jesus fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking tight!” he grunts when the base of his cock hits the mound of your pussy. You can do all but speak, eyes screwed shut as you clutch onto his forearms on either side of you. You’ve observed that he’s large before, but he stretches you out so well - he slowly begins to move his hips, and the slight pain begins to subside, transforming into pleasure. As you relax your body, you let out short gasps every time he thrusts back into you again. “Shit, you feel so good around me.”

You hear Jaehyun’s baritone voice, but it seems as if it’s located a million miles away, you floating bliss as you relish in the sensation of his cock sliding against your walls repeatedly. Each time he thrusts all the way back before slams inside of you again, you let out sharp gasps; his cock reaches into your core even further than his fingers already had, and it feels so, so good. 

“Look at you,” Jaehyun breathes as he picks up the pace of his hips, rutting into you at a faster speed, his arms pinned on either side of you. Your hair, usually styled and perfectly placed around your face, is splayed out in messy fashion against your cream sheets; your face is flushed with excitement and lust, jaw slack as profane noises fall past your mouth and into the hot air between both of your bodies; your eyes, usually so focused and attentive, are glossed over with desire, hooded as your tits bounce with each thrust Jaehyun drives into you. “So fucked out already. Doyoung could never fuck you this good, right, darling?”

“J-Jaehyun.” is all you are able to whine as he continues to fuck into you, hard and deep; the sounds of skin slapping against skin harmonized with the sound of the both of you breathing heavily is what occupies the space between the two of you. He pulls your hips higher, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to fuck you even deeper - the sensation of the tip of his cock grazing against you sensitive spot causes your nails to sink into the skin of his forearms. 

“Tell me again, darling,” ask Jaehyun, his hand moving towards your throat and gently wrapping his fingers around your neck. As he continues to drive his cock into your tight pussy, his voice comes out in strained grunts. “What did you want Doyoung to do to you?”

“F-Fuck,” you could barely form a word, each thrust he gives you causes all your thoughts to melt into obscurity, sentences jumbled into whines and moans. His clutch on your throat tightens and you’re almost sure your eyes are about to roll to the back of your head in pure bliss. 

“I asked you a question,” he growls, slamming into you again and again. “I expect you to fucking answer me.”

“I-I wanted him to,” You manage to squeak out a few words. “Fuck m-me until I c-couldn’t walk.” 

“And tell me, darling, who’s the only one who can do that?” he ruts his hips even faster than before, your bed squeaking as your mattress moves with every push he makes into your pussy. At this new angle, his the tip of his cock hits your spot perfectly, over and over again, a sensation that induces you to scream his name as you arch your back off the bed. 

“Jaehyun! Fuck!” you yell, hearing your voice echo against the walls of your bedroom - he doesn’t stop though - as you scream his name, laced with foul words, repeatedly, his cock continues to drive deep inside of your pussy, making sure he leaves a mark inside of you that only he can give.

“Fucking tell me,” he pulls his hand away from your throat to grab onto your face, forcing you to look at him. Tears of pleasure have began to spring against your waterline, falling past your lower eyelids and staining your bedsheets; your face is streamed with marks of your mascara and eyeliner, your lips plump from biting into them to refrain yourself from screaming his name. “Tell me, (Y/N), who’s the only one who can fuck you? Who does your tight fucking cunt belong to?”

“Y-You-” you whimper out in a quiet voice only to scream again when Jaehyun moves your hips higher, his cock driving into your deeper and harder than before. His grip on your waist is tight as he moves his hips; you’re sure to have bruises the next morning but all you could focus on at that moment is your nearing second orgasm. “Fuck, Jaehyun! You! It’s yours! Only you can fuck me, shit!”

“That’s right,” he leans back, yet another angle racking over your body, his throbbing tip hitting your sensitive core rhythmically. Sweat begins to drip from his forehead, his face glistening in the dim lighting of your bedroom - even now, even through the indecent circumstances the two of you were in, he is beautiful. “Your pretty little cunt is mine, only mine.”

 “Y-Yes, Jaehyun, it’s yours,” you whimper, clutching at your bed sheets. What had started as a lonely night had quickly become one filled with the sound of slapping skin and a creaking bed, Jaehyun’s deep grunts music to your ears as you feel your walls spasm around his cock. A knot had formed in the pit of your stomach again, a sense that only Jaehyun had ever given you, and you feel your mind haze over. “J-Jaehyun, fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me baby,” Jaehyun whispers, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head as the feeling rakes your body, sending goosebumps over your skin - you hear Jaehyun’s moans becoming louder as you cum but they are muffled with the stir of your pleasure, seeing stars in the darkness behind your eyelids. Your body goes numb, core sensitive, but Jaehyun continues to fuck into you through your orgasm. “Fuck, baby, are you on the pill? I need to cum inside you.” 

You only simply whisper out a yes, voice shaking and broken from the screaming you had done all night, still caught in a daze from your orgasm, before feeling Jaehyun’s hips falter as he lets out a low groan. His thrusting slows and his jaw becomes slack, eyes directed downwards, at his cock connected to your pussy, ash blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks flushed with both lust and exhaustion. He fills you up with his cum with shaking breaths, it is when he pulls out when you feel the warm liquid slip out of you. 

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you again, lips molding together as if they were meant to be pressed against each other - his hands, now gentle, caressing your hair and your hands cupping his face. The two of you have left memoirs of each other on the other’s body, and although you aren’t sure what the two of you quite are, the tranquility that fills the air when you look into his eyes after he pulls away from your lips, a gentle smile making its way onto his face before he pulls himself beside you against the plush pillows if your bed, only brings you an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

That night, when you fell asleep in Jaehyun’s warm embrace, as his heaving breaths slowly transition into a soft, rhythmic snoring, you are happy.

-----

Jung Jaehyun, to put it simply, is like a drug to you. If his presence is elsewhere, your body aches for him, almost begging for company even without your knowledge, and he knows it. The haughty smirk that you had grown used to ever since the first time your eyes laid on him had grown wider now, even more when his name is all you’re able to say whenever he drives his cock into your core. You’re selfish; almost every single night is a night spent with him, with your bodies pressed together in a dance between the sheets of your bed, or his bed, or whatever environment the two of you occupy. 

There was one time, only a day after the first time he had fucked you, when he had picked you up from your home - your mother believed that you were leaving for Irene’s house to pay her a visit, but she was awfully incorrect. You and Jaehyun never made it to where he was planning to take you, having parked deep in a bundle of trees, somewhere far where no one could find the both of you, before fucking you in the backseat of his noir Mercedes. His windows were tinted and the steam that had accumulated on the glass would prove it difficult to look through if anyone were able to find his parked car, but the rocking motion of his automobile probably would have proved your theory wrong.

There was another time, a week after the first time he had fucked you, when you visited the Jung & Associates tower deep in the heart of the city during the evening, when almost all of their employees had left. That night, he bent you over his mahogany desk and drilled into you ruthlessly, his necktie disposed of, wrapping it around your neck to keep you on your knees on top of the table, your soaked panties shoved into your mouth to muffle your whines and screams in case a few employees loitered around the office on the other side of Jaehyun’s door. 

And another time, your favourite time, when you had a flight to Los Angeles to oversee a branch of Decoré’s boutiques and their dodgy revenue, when a knock reverberated on the door to your penthouse, and upon opening it, you were greeted with the familiarity of Jaehyun’s lips on yours. He promised to fuck you on every surface, eager to see you coming undone on top of each piece of furniture laid out in your penthouse. You could barely remember that night; having had innumerable orgasms, each memory is a blur of lust and pleasure - but you can recall being pressed against the panoramic window that blessed you the view of all of Hollywood as he fucked into you from behind, deep voice reminding you of your blasphemy while people went on about their day below the two of you.

Your life is filled with responsibilities and expectations - you are expected to have a beautiful posture, a graceful expression, careful movements, and wise words; never to have a cuss word fall past your lips, never to have a revolted expression grace on your face. If you were to make one wrong move, the future of Decoré may be in peril - but with Jaehyun, as obscene as your actions with him are, you feel as if you are truly yourself. With his throbbing cock pumping in and out of your core, all your thoughts of maintaining your prim and proper reputation are pushed out of your mind, instead focused on raking your fingernails down the skin of his back.

Today, your hands are occupied with tugging on your Hermés scarf that you had wrapped around your neck, concentrated on cloaking the marks forged on the skin of your neck that Jaehyun had left with his lips the night prior. Today, there was yet another gala that you were invited to, some politician that your mother is acquainted with. To be excited is nothing close to how you really feel, knowing of the dull and tediousness that the rest of the night will consist of - you’re only thankful that your stylists didn’t force you into a corset again. You aren’t even sure why you had to attend, having no connection to the point of the gala except for your mother - you would much rather be at home, perhaps reading a book, watching a movie, telling Irene to accompany you, or perhaps texting Jaehyun to come over once again.

Your prediction for the night proves correct when you find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the venue, against the royal blue crushed velvet chairs as you stare into the liquid of your wine glass. You are adorned in a pure white dress by Elie Saab, and you were far too afraid to drop any of the desserts on it in fear of a stain, so you settle for just a simple drink instead. Tchaikovsky drones from the weary looking orchestra at the top of the stairwell, and you’re almost sure you’ve memorized each flat or sharp were located in the flurry of notes. Your mother, the social bird, is off conversing with other people that she’d acquainted herself with, a large, yet fake, smile on her face - it seemed as if no one your age was present, so you were grateful at the fact that her matchmaking business for you will be closed for the night.

You let out a sigh as the night drones on, the conclusion for the evening seemingly never arriving. You are unsure as to how the people around you seem to be enjoying themselves - Do people enjoy boring things as they grow older?you think, but you would never say it out loud. 

“I like your scarf.” 

The tone of voice automatically causes you to sit up straight, turning your head towards the direction it originated from. The man in question pulls up a seat next to you, a kind smile on his lips before sitting down on the crushed velvet padded seat. You quirk your eyebrow in surprise at his presence - you’d assume that he’d be someplace else, enjoying his night, but as you thought more about it, the environment fit his field of expertise.

“Thank you - it was a last minute choice, considering the circumstances.” you quip, setting down your glass of wine to tug at the scarf wrapped around your neck, careful to not expose the hickeys that dance against your skin. You’re unsure on how to act around him in public, you’re so used to letting your desires with him known that acting in your usual grace is unnatural for you. “What are you doing here?”

“Actually,” Jaehyun cocks his head to the side as he smiles, a dimple forming in his cheek, quirking his eyebrow as he lifts his champagne glass to his lips to take a sip. “I have a reason to be here, darling; the man who constructed this gala is a client of Jung & Associates. I should be the one asking you that.”

“Really?” you ponder on his sentence for a few seconds as you twirl the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. “Hm, first time I’ve heard of someone’s lawyers attending an event that their client hosts.” 

“Well, he’s a very corrupt man,” Jaehyun says, turning his gaze towards you. Even just his stare causes you to feel a lustful desire - you cannot comprehend how much power he has over you. “You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s evidently guilty in a case of embezzling money and drugs underneath the guise of his campaign.” 

Your eyebrows slightly raise in shock, gasping lightly. “Oh my gosh, really?” you ask, before furrowing your eyebrows in wonder. “Why have you accepted him as a client knowing that he’s guilty?” 

“I was not the one who accepted him, darling,” he says, resting his cheek against his fist. His stance is relaxed, but his tone of voice seems to hold weight that you cannot pinpoint. “My father did - they were college buddies back in the day. Plus, you know what our kind desires - we all just want money, right?”

Your eyes slowly trail from his eyes to your drink, pondering on his words. “I guess you’re right.”

“Speaking of my father,” Jaehyun’s voice is hushed now, and uncharacteristically panicked. “Here he comes. Try to act casual, can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” you whisper back, getting ready to put your front on again, lifting your gaze just in time to spot the tall, broad-shouldered man walking towards your table. It’s a little jarring, really, seeing Jaehyun’s father for the first time; it’s as if Jaehyun had aged several years and had gone bald - the image in your head causes the corner of your lips to quiver humorously but you contain your laughter.

“Jaehyun, I’ve been looking for you since we entered this gala, there are people who would like to congratulate you.” his father’s voice is gruff, evident of experienced smoking. He barely pays attention to your presence, his eyes set on Jaehyun only, and the man beside you, whose gait is always dripping with confidence, seems to wane. You gulp as you look between Jaehyun and his father, the tension in the air appearing seemingly out of nowhere - bad tension.  

“I’m talking with a friend, father.” Jaehyun’s voice, all the stern that you have grown used to since hearing it for the first time, is softer. His father finally tears his glare at his son, his pupils snapping towards you, and suddenly, you understand why Jaehyun was acting menial. His father squints his eyes at you, observing you with scrutiny, and you let out a shaky breath before parting your lip.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jung.” you outstretch your hand over the table for him to shake, and the older man simply glances at it before setting his eyes on your face again. Your front almost falters, your hand retreating back into your lap as you burn with humility. 

“Who are you?” he asks you, voice imperious. 

“She’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Decoré,” Jaehyun answers for you. His tone of voice recovered slight dominance but his stance stays humble beside yours. “I’ve told you about her, remember?” 

“Oh yes,” Mr. Jung answers, jaw square as he peers down at you, familiarity in his eyes. “That fashion brand. How is that going?”

You’re confused at his question, having never met him in the past, but you answer anyway. “It’s going alright, thank you.” 

He nods once, finally tearing his weightful glare from you and returning back to his son. “Come now, Jaehyun,” he says, turning his body as a way to signal his leaving, waiting for Jaehyun to follow him. “There are people I’d like you to meet before your birthday next week.” 

You turn your head to Jaehyun in surprise. “It’s your birthday next week?” 

Jaehyun slowly stands from his chair, eyes slightly irate and training on his father, but his voice is gentle when he answers you. “Yes, on Valentines day.” He finally looks towards you, gaze softening when they land on your features, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion - why is he acting like that? “I have to go now, (Y/N). I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” 

“Of course.” you nod once, lips pressed tightly together as you watch Jaehyun’s form walk towards his father around the table. He gives you one last glance, a look that you cannot decipher, once again, appearing in his irises, before he turns his entire body from you, leaving you to sit alone.

As you watch his retreating form, you think of the newfound information that you had uncovered about Jung Jaehyun, of his birthday, and you realize that, although you know of Jung Jaehyun, that you know of the rumours surrounding him, and know of his body and what he’s capable of from the nights you’ve spent with him for the past month, you don’t sincerely, truly, know him.

-----

Jung Jaehyun does not talk to you soon; after the gala reached its conclusion, your phone remained silent for the following week, aside from Irene’s text messages as well as your mother’s phone calls to ask you how the house is going while she’s on a brief New York visit to oversee one of Decoré’s branches. Even Johnny, who would usually spam your notifications with the latest of internet memes, has been silent. For the following week, you wake up every morning to see if Jaehyun had contacted you, met with disappointment when you’re unable to find his name in your notifications, and you head to bed every night, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d text you before you fall asleep. You are reluctant on whether you should worry or not - perhaps he’s busy, he is taking the clutches of his company from his father’s grasp, but it’s on his birthday, when you greet him with a text only to be met with a notification that he’s read your message, when dread begins to pool your stomach.

“Is there something the matter?” 

Irene’s voice causes you to snap out of your daze while you stare at the screen of your phone. It brings you a case of déja vu for only a second before you finally look up at her, a strained smile on your face. 

“Hm? No, nothing’s the matter,” you act nonchalant, setting your phone back down in your lap as you cross your legs over each other. The two of you are seated in your bedroom, Irene splayed out on your bed as she hugs one of your pillows, and you at the stool of your vanity. “I’m fine, Irene. Why?” 

“(Y/N),” Irene sighs as she sits up, putting the pillow she had been cuddling down against your plush mattress. “You’ve been acting different since your visit to Milan.” 

“Have I?” you continue your front. It’s disgusting how easy you lie to her. “I feel fine, though.” 

“Look, (Y/N),” Irene lets out a sigh, and you inwardly cringe - you know that she isn’t buying your words. “It’s fine that you don’t want to tell me, I don’t wanna pester it out of you because it’s your business. However, just know, no matter what it is, I’m here to talk to you, okay? If you told me you killed a man in Milan, I will back you up. I’m basically your sister, I’m here for you always. Please remember that.”

Her words eat at you with guilt, and you tear your eyes away from her, suddenly finding solace in your hands folded in your lap. “I know, Irene,” you whisper, voice shaking. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you. I promise.” 

“Okay, now put your phone down,” Irene hops off the bed, a grin on her face. “It’s Valentine's day; you’re single, and my fiancé is in New York. Let’s go eat ice cream and watch romance movies.” 

The rest of the night is spent lounging on the large couch in your sitting room with your best friend, nostalgic scenes of love confessions and innocent touches playing on the screen of your large television. Your mouths were filled with spoonfuls of ice cream, giggling and squealing at the scenes, as if both of you hadn’t already memorized every line from watching it repeatedly since your early teens. When the main character finally melts into the kiss of their love interest, Irene grabs the cushion next to her and doesn’t hesitate to hit you in the shoulder with it, whining at how romantic the setting was, and you giggle loudly as your spoon falls from your bucket of ice cream onto the floor, the metal clanging against the marble tiles. For a few moments, you forget about your lingering thoughts, phone abandoned in your room upstairs, sitting on the cold wood of your vanity’s table.

“Oh gosh,” Irene jumps to her feet when she looks out the window after the two of you finish your third movie. The rain pangs against your window pane harshly, coating the glass in thick rainwater. “It’s raining so hard, I should call my chauffeur.” 

“Just stay over,” you tell her, still seated on the couch. Your home is like her second home, and her home was your second home; the two of you grew up surrounded by each other’s childhood, so her sleeping over isn’t anything new. “You can call in your chauffeur tomorrow, it’s raining really hard.”

She lets out a sigh. “I know, but I have to get up super early tomorrow in time for my bridesmaid’s gown fittings,” she takes a hand through her hair as she fishes for her phone in her pocket, hitting the contact for her chauffeur on her screen. She holds it to her ear, and apologetically, asks for them to pick her up from your home. After apologizing profusely and thanking them through her phone, she ends the call and lets out another sigh, grabbing her coat that she had splayed over the arm of your couch. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” 

You frown, but nod, standing up as you grab the empty buckets of ice cream on the coffee table and push your feet into your slippers. You head to the kitchen to dispose of the garbage and to wash the two spoons before putting them in the rack to dry. Your maids weren’t home, as it is a Saturday once again - you favoured cleaning your home though - although it was rather large, you find it relaxing. As the few minutes pass by, Irene’s ride has arrived at the front of your doors; she gives you a warm embrace before she takes her leave.

“Remember what I said, okay?” she reminds you of her words in your bedroom, to trust her with anything, and you nod once.

“Of course,” you tell her. “Have a safe drive home, alright?” 

When you close your door, you let out another sigh as the silence of your home overtakes your presence. The juxtaposition of the hustle and bustle of the nearby city, hearing honks of cars in the distance, is ironic to you as you head back to your kitchen; you felt as if you were isolated from the outside world. Having grown sheltered, with only a few close friends in order to protect your reputation, you’ve naturally become a homebody - when you’re not travelling for your own interests or for affairs pertaining to your job, you’re almost always found at home, sitting in silence. 

You sigh as you take out a nearly empty bottle of domaine de la romanée-cont from one of the cupboards in your kitchen, pouring just a little into a glass that you’ve found in another cupboard. Your mind flashes back to Jung Jaehyun once again, wondering if he’s enjoying his birthday, if he’s enjoying his Valentine’s day, pondering on why he hasn’t contacted you since you last met. You think, perhaps Irene’s words at the beginning were correct - he’s had his fun with you, and now he’s left you to pick up what he’s left behind; you quickly push the subject from your mind. After downing a sip of your wine, you dispose the glass into the sink, not bothering to wash it, opting to do it tomorrow, your mind occupied with getting ready for bed. Just as you turn into your entrance hallway to walk up the stairs towards your room, your doorbell rings. You let out a hum - Irene must have forgotten an item of hers before leaving. Your fuzzy slippers swish against the floor as you walk towards the white door, unlocking the latch before pulling the heavy door open. You part your lips to greet Irene, but what comes falling past your lips is a gasp instead, the sight of Jaehyun standing on your porch a shock to you.

His ash blonde hair is doused with rain water, droplets falling from the wet strands and kissing his shoulders, adorned in Saint Laurent that clings to his skin tautly. He’s panting, as if he had ran all the way to your house, and at the sight of his chest rising and falling rapidly, you believe that that’s exactly what he did. He steps into your home, his frigid, wet hands automatically cupping your face before he pulls you towards him, your lips crashing into his cold ones in desperation and ache. For only a fleeting moment, you melt into his kiss, but quickly regain your composure, pulling away from him. 

“What are you doing here?” you question him, pushing his wet hair away from his face. You look into his eyes, they seem red and swollen - like he’s been crying. 

“I came to see you.” he answers you, voice aberrantly frail - his breath is shaking with each inhale and exhale he takes. “I missed you.” 

“Jaehyun, what’s wrong?” you whisper, wondering why he’s acting this way - it’s his birthday, he should be happy, yet he seems so desolate, so crushed. “Have you been crying?” 

“Darling, please,” his voice is hushed, cold hands still cupping your cheeks as he searches your eyes. “I… I can’t tell you yet.” 

“Why?” you urge him on, desperate to know more about what he’s feeling, about what he’s thinking.

“I… I just can’t,” for the first time, he’s unable to come up with an answer to your questions - the doom in your stomach pools even deeper, but you hold onto the last lingering hope that burns in your heart. “Please, I just need you. I need you right now. I need you badly.”

It’s humiliating how simple words that slip past his lips could cause you to obey so quickly, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he closes the door behind him. Your lips crash against each other in a flurry of teeth and tongue while he grabs your ass, urging you to jump, before wrapping your legs around him. In haste, he carries you up the stairs, memorizing where to go after having been in your home several times in the same circumstances, before throwing you onto your bed. 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, kissing down your neck while he undoes the lace that ties your silk robe adorning your body. He unclasps your bra quickly, and you let out a sigh when he uncovers your chest, his tongue kissing the valley between your breasts before slowly enveloping his tongue around one of your nipples. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking innocent, so fucking good to me.”

You run your fingers through his drenched locks, brushing them back away from his face as his tongue flicks over your sensitive nipple repeatedly, his other hand doing the same to the other one, rolling the nub with the pad of his thumb. The sight in front of you, Jaehyun’s dark eyes boring into yours while his lips are occupied with your breasts, is breathtaking; your thighs press together intuitively, but once his free hand lets go of your breast, he gently pushes them apart. 

“Jaehyun.” you whisper when you feel his hand slip past the waistband of your shorts and panties, middle finger toying with your clit. He continues to lap at your nipple in circular motions, the sensation of his touch against your nubs causing you to breathe heavily. Slick with your juices, he dips a finger into you, watching your face when his middle finger penetrates you core. You let out a whine, an aching desire for his girth not met by his single finger, but it grazes against your spot which causes your whine to break into a whimper.

“So sensitive, always so fucking tight,” he pulls away from your breast, taking off his drenched shirt before kneeling lower to position his face in front of your sopping heat, slowly beginning to pull your shorts and panties down. In just a few minutes, you had already become drenched with lust underneath Jaehyun’s touch, heat rising in your cheeks when you feel his lips peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs. “I’ll take care of you tonight, darling.”

You still haven’t grown used to the pleasurable sensation of his tongue against your folds, finding yourself gasping in shock every time you feel him lick a strip against your opening. Your hands automatically find their way enlaced in his wet locks, bucking your hips against his face when his tongue grazes your clit. He pushes your legs further apart, lewd noises emitting from his mouth and your sopping core, hushed by the heavy rain hammering against the walls of your home. 

“Jae!” you let out a sharp gasp when you feel his tongue dip inside you, your fist clenching his hair to bring him closer as a low chuckle emits from his throat. Usually, he’d pull away and taunt you for being so eager, and continue to tease you by barely paying attention to the spot you needed him the most, but tonight, he continues to fuck his tongue into you, grip on your thighs to spread your legs apart burning. “Shit, that feels so fucking good!”

He replaces his warm tongue with two of his fingers, coated in a thin sheen of saliva before he pushes into you, tongue lapping at your clit. He knows your body so well, he knows what to do to push you over the edge and now, in just a few minutes, he’s already got you on the brink of your first orgasm. 

“Jaehyun, fuck!” you scream as he rapidly fucks his fingers into you, tongue violent against your clit. You spasm around his fingers, tugging at his scalp as your hips begin to tremble. He continues to fuck you, eyes casted downwards towards your fucked cunt, focused on bringing you over the edge. He pumps his fingers in and out of you at a quick speed, his digits disappearing inside of you one last time before you scream once more. “Shit, I’m cumming!”

He slows his fingers down as you come apart around his digits, finger fucking you through your orgasm. As you let out one last sigh, he pulls his fingers out, wet with your lust, before climbing back up to your face to kiss you, lips wet with saliva and your juices. He moans into the kiss, hands needy as they knead your breasts, his tongue entering your mouth hotly. You flip your bodies over, you on top of him now, his hands moving down your waist to cup your ass. 

You lean back and he watches you with adoration - your heart flips in your chest for only a moment before lust fills your mind again when you feel his stiff cock against your thigh through his jeans. You move down, your turn to kneel on the floor in front of him as you begin to undo his pants. He watches you with his teeth buried in his bottom teeth, brushing your hair away from your face as you pull his cock from his boxers. You let out a breathy giggle at how pink his throbbing tip is before circling your tongue around it, earning a hiss from him before you fully engorge it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better view of you wrapping your lips around his cock, raking his hands through your hair. “Yes, just like that, suck my cock just like that.”

He goes crazy at the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the sight is enough to nearly push him over the edge - your innocent eyes, your hands that clutch at his every time you pump your mouth into him deeper, the way your eyebrows furrow when you gag on his tip. “So beautiful,” he whispers, his thumb caressing your cheek, a sweet act that juxtaposes the situation. “Just like that, your pretty mouth takes my cock so well.”

You continue to suck his cock, your hands pumping the parts you aren’t able to reach - you can almost feel how desperate he is every time his tip hits the back of your throat, the throbbing clear. You weren’t used to Jaehyun being needy like this, being so gentle, taking his time - but the thought made you excited. 

“Shit,” he grunts when you pull away from his cock with a pop, moving your head lower to pay attention to his balls before licking a strip up his shaft. Just as you are about to wrap your lips around his cock again, he sits up, cupping your face. “Fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that.”

His lips find yours once again and this time, he’s the one to flip the both of you over. He rids of his jeans that had pooled around his ankles before he climbs into your bed, hovering above you as you spread your legs open, aching for him to finally be inside of you. You had waited for him for a week, you yearned for his presence all those days - and now you were finally being filled by the man you wished for. 

He slides his cock deep inside of your cunt before he begins to move his hips slowly, leaning forward to attach his lips to yours. You could never get enough of his cock, it was as if he was made to fit inside you just right, his tip grazing against your g-spot repeatedly as his tongue dances with yours. You moan into each other’s mouths, your bedroom filled with obscene sounds of saliva and skin slapping against skin. 

“Mine,” he whispers against your neck when he pulls away, hips gently rocking against yours. His cock hits you in just the right places, whines emitting from your lips as he continues to speak. “I want you to be mine.” 

“I am,” you answer, wrapping your legs around his hips in an effort to get him to thrust deeper. He nips at the skin of your neck as he ruts into you. “I’m yours, Jaehyun. I’m all yours.”

Jaehyun doesn’t answer, only responding in deep groans, as he leans back to grab your legs, pulling them over his shoulder to find a better angle in fucking you. When he leans back, you’re almost certain you see tears formed in his eyes, but with you hips slightly lifted from your bed, the angle proving perfect as his cock hits your g-spot even more accurately, you find your thoughts slipping out of your mind when your muffled whines to turn into louder mewls. 

“Jaehyun!” you gasp loudly when he begins to pick up the pace, fingers gripping onto the skin of your thighs so hard that you’re sure they’ll leave marks the next day. You feel your walls begin to spasm around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your vision slowly begins to turn into a blur. “Jaehyun, I’m going to cum! Fuck!”

“Don’t cum yet, baby,” he says through strained grunts. “I want to cum together. You’re on the pill right?”

You let out a meek yes as you attempt to hold your orgasm under wraps, finding it hard to do so as the tip of Jaehyun’s cock hits your spot over and over again - your body felt numb and all you wanted to do was to let go, your blurry vision suddenly becoming decorated with stars. “J-Jaehyun, I-I can’t hold it.”

“Yes you can, darling,” he cooed, bringing a hand down to draw circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. The action has your legs trembling, breath hitching in your throat at the overpowering sensation takes your body. “Hold it for me, you can hold it right? You’re so fucking good to me, that’s why.”

“Jaehyun!” you let out a ripping scream, loud enough to hear it reverberate out your opened bedroom door and down the hallway. Tears begin to form on your waterline at the frustration of your waning orgasm as well as the desperation to let go, letting out a sob as he continues to fuck into you savagely. He drives into your pussy with full force repeatedly, pulling all the way out and snapping back in, and you find it so hard to keep your orgasm under control. “Jaehyun, please!”

“Fuck, baby,” he moans loudly, feeling your walls spasming around him in a frenzy. “Fuck, I love you so fucking much, fuck, cum for me. Cum for me, darling.” 

And you do as he says, finally letting go of your built up orgasm, the sensation ripping through your nerves and causing you to see an entire galaxy behind the darkness of your eyes. The tips of your fingers and toes burnt as if flames kissed them and your body is both sore and numb but with the greatest pleasure. Through the fog, you feel Jaehyun continuing to thrust his cock into you before stalling deep inside your core, spurts of his cum shooting into you and filling you up before he pulls out, streaks of white pouring out after him. 

The both of you come to, panting heavily, before his lips fall onto yours once again, bringing you into a passionate kiss. His lips are familiar to you now, and you cannot even begin to think of a time where they didn’t belong to you. He wraps his arms around you to bring you closer, head resting against your plush pillows before he pulls away. There’s a stray tear that falls from his eye, and you are unsure why it is there.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispers, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Jung Jaehyun,” you whisper, a smile forming on your face, kissing his forehead. The words feel right when they leave your lips, as if they were meant to be said by you and to be heard by him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

You press your lips against his for the final time that night, the electricity clear through the air when he relaxes into you. He smelled like roses, he felt like warmth, and he moved like honey. When you pull away with a gentle smile formed on your face, your thumb wipes away his stray tear, unknowing of the burning pain that had formed them in the first place. 

——-

Waking up to the absence of Jaehyun’s warmth, the bare sheets holding nothing  but the outline of his form, is nothing new to you to start the day with - often, after your affairs at night, the moment sunlight cracks through the night sky, Jaehyun would rise early to sneak back into his own estate in order to avoid a quarrelsome conversation with his father. Instead of waking up with his arms wrapped around your form and kisses against your forehead, you’d only be met with the kisses of sunlight that slips through your creme curtains grazing against your skin, and although you can’t deny the slight disappointment that brews in your stomach at the sight of his absence, you wholly feel a bit relieved every time you’d come to find a note that he’d left you just before taking his leave. 

Recalling your memories of the night prior isn’t an activity that you’re new to, either; you rejoice in the ghost touches left by their former presence as you reply the scenes of pleasure in your mind - Jaehyun’s lips against yours, tongues dancing together like wild flames, his hips rocking into you and fervent as if he wanted to become one with you. As your memories of the night before come to an end, your heart beat waned slightly upon remembering the way Jaehyun had acted. You recall the sight of tears lining his waterline, eyes red and movement filled with desperation and longing. You had fallen asleep before you were able to ask him about it, and he had left far too quickly for you to ask him after waking up.

When you tossed your legs over the edge of your plush mattress, the pads of your feet meeting the carpeted flooring, you had glanced towards your bedside table to see if Jaehyun had left you a note that morning, excitement bubbling in your stomach; the notes that he’d leave for you to read in the morning would range from the most romantic poetry, nothing but sweet nothings written on the page, to the most obscene, filthy string of words, degrading scenarios that he wishes to act upon the next time he sees you which would usually cause a throb to emit in your core early in the morning. Upon looking at your table that morning, though, your bedside table was empty; nothing but your usual reading lamp and phone resting atop the wood. You had furrowed your brows together in confusion at first before pushing the thought out of your mind, deciding not to ponder too much about it. Instead, you eyed your sleeping phone on the table, the device rousing awake with a text notification that had you reaching for it automatically. You had hoped it were the man in question that had occupied your mind since waking up, but you were met with a mere sigh when you see that it’s just your manager, reminding you of the day’s itinerary. 

Another day, another gala that you had to attend, and although this gala may prove to be important to your rise to the head seat of Decoré, you couldn’t help but feel tired of the constant jubilees you had to go to. Since returning back to Seoul from your short trip to California to overlook your boutique’s Los Angeles branch for your mother, you had delved into the planning and designing of your first few clothing pieces - you were excited, you truly were, since you had notebooks upon notebooks filled with your sketches and ideas for clothing pieces that ranged from gowns to the most simplest scarves. Yet, nervousness and apprehension is what eats at your stomach when you realize that your first ever piece, a gown the tone of lavender made entirely of tulle and lace, strewn with colourful flowers as if the sheer fabric had been dragged through a garden, is making its debut tonight. You were unsure what the event is for, only having heard from your mother that it reigns important for the history of Decoré; you knew what she really meant - it brings the company vast amounts of money. Even now, when you sit in a rounded table in the venue with Irene by your side, who had accompanied you for your own encouragement, you can’t seem to stop your fingers from twirling the glass stem that holds your wine.

“Irene,” you concur to your best friend, gulping down vast amounts the liquor Irene had fished for you. Your other hand was preoccupied from fisting at the Christian Dior dress that adorned your body, the strewn golden pendants that hung against the noir silk digging into the skin of your palms. Irene’s hands find their way to yours, snaking her fingers through yours for comfort as she looks at you worriedly. It isn’t that Irene’s presence doesn’t give you a sense of peace, because she’s been slightly successful at her attempts of giving you comfort since the night had started, but perhaps if your mother was here you’d feel a lot more at ease - but, evidently, the weather in New York seems to disregard your feelings, cancelling your mother’s flight back to Seoul that morning. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Yes you can, (Y/N),” Irene says in a hushed whisper, careful that other patrons that attended the jubilee won’t bear witness to a future chief executive going through a mild breakdown. She rubs the back of your palm with “You’ve dreamt of this all your life, and you worked so hard on creating this dress. Once the dress is revealed, your weariness will go away, I promise.”

You let out a deep breath at her words, genuinely thankful that she’s there by your side to help you. As you gulp, you nod at her. “Okay,” you huff. “You’re right… you’re right. I can do this.” 

The gala itself is nothing different from other galas you’ve been to - men dressed in their uniform fashion of black and white suit and ties, ladies dressed with the most expensive fabric that sweeps against the floor coupled with their moussed hair and glamorous eye makeup. Unlike most events that you’ve attended, the people that sit around different circular tables housing wine glasses in their palms are unfamiliar to you - you grew up in a social network underneath your mother’s doing, Irene is a part of it, Lucas, who you had met formally several months ago by virtue of your mother, is also a part of it; each and every gala you have been to were filled with people you or your mother knew of - so the unknown characters around you right now, coupled with the unrevealing of your first ever design, ultimately terrifies you. You can pick out a few faces; Irene, of course, your manager, who had been gracing the dessert table for the past hour, and two of your stylists who continuously kept an eye on your hand that had gone back to fisting at the fabric of your dress, weary at wrinkles. 

“(Y/N)?” a familiar voice rings which causes your ear to perk, turning your head to the direction of the tall jolly man who lugs his shorter husband around, and another boy, a much younger boy, follows behind the both of them. Johnny has a quizzical look on his face, as if he were pondering the reason on why you were present - you must have had the same expression too, because he lets out laughter. “It’s peculiar to see you at an event such as this.” 

“I should say the same to you, Johnny.” you say, hand relaxing in Irene’s clasp. She relaxes her fingers and lets your hand go, consequently wiping her hands with a napkin as she makes a teasing quip about how clammy your hands are. You let out a pout at her comment before turning back around towards Johnny - this doesn’t seem like an event he would usually attend as well; he’s more of a youthful socialite gathering type of man, even more peculiar that he’d bring his husband along as well. “Ten, nice to see you again!” 

Ten rings out a smile to you as he leans down to give you a hug, before taking a seat at your table. The younger man who follows behind the two of them is a little awkward in stance, but he doesn’t fail to give you a warm, dashing smile, a calming grin stretched out on his face.

“I’m Jaemin,” he introduces himself, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N) - Jaehyun and Johnny talk about you a lot.” 

“Is that so?” you let out a laugh, quirking your eyebrows at Johnny who gives you a deadpan look, causing you to giggle. “But it’s very nice to finally meet you, Jaemin!”

The five of you drown the droning sound of classical music through small-chatter, catching up with each other from the past few weeks. Jaemin is a kind boy - charming, but level-headed and mature, he seemed wise beyond his years, and his manners were prim and proper. For a fleeting moment, you had wondered where he had gotten his personality from, seeing as Johnny is a loud, silly man while Jaehyun was more enigmatically rambunctious, but you push the thought out of your head. You think about what he had said when introducing himself to you - Jaehyun talked about you to him?

“So, when is the wedding, Irene?” Ten asks as he sinks the teeth of his fork into a red velvet cheesecake, sliding the fragment it into his mouth before setting his fork back down on the plate. 

“You’ll find out through the invitation cards,” Irene gives him a kilowatt smile, her eyes softening at the mention of the future event. “But it will be next Spring - we have yet to decide where the venue shall be, but when we do, like I said before, you’ll find out through the invitation cards.” 

“Oh, to be married,” Johnny cooed teasingly, as if he weren’t sitting next to his husband. “What a wonderful thing to imagine - finally becoming one with the love of your life during a beautiful ceremony. One can only dream.”

“Johnny Suh,” Ten deadpans, causing you and Irene to let out giggles. “I will not hesitate to shove this entire cake down your mouth, if that’s what you’re trying to hint at.” 

Johnny lets out a loud laughing, bringing his husband close for a hug as the shorter man, pouting, takes another bite out of his cheesecake. “I’m just joking,” Johnny says. “Being married to you is like a dream for me every single day.”

You watch the couple with admiration as they slowly begin to begin to chatter into their own world, gentle smiles and soft gazes exchanged between them; you’ve grown used to seeing the people around you amorous with their partners, but you still cannot deny the feeling of envy that creeps up in your stomach every time you were faced with a happy couple. It’s not that you want them to break up, because you would never wish for a beautiful pairing to split, no matter who they are, but it’s because you’ve still yet to find the one who could bring you into your own little world. You tear your gaze away from them to let them have their own privacy, bringing your attention to your fingers decorated with rings that range from Daniel Villegas to Swarovski,  but an emptiness pools in your heart when you realize none of them truly holds a significant meaning to you.

For a fleeting moment, Jaehyun’s face flashes in your mind, but you push it out of your thoughts as quickly as it had arrived. 

You quickly come to when you hear the dull tapping of a mic blare throughout the grand hall, a hush falling over the attendees as they redirect their attention towards the front of the venue, towards the mini platform that had housed the mini orchestra. Two men stand atop the platform, each clad in a dark grey suits by Johnston; you squint your eyes just slightly in order to make out their faces against the harsh spotlight that had shone onto them. One man seemed familiar, his hair greying and thinning, wrinkles of age outstretching the skin of his face, and you identify him as Mr. Jung, whom you met at the politician’s event last week. You are quizzical as to why they are here, wondering if this was a gala hosted by the Jung family. As you wondered, your eyes turn to the man beside him, only to find his eyes already on you. 

You gasped slightly when you see Jung Jaehyun, the ash blonde tone of his hair long gone and replaced with jet black locks, slicked away from his forehead and styled much like the first time you had seen him - he stands tall, as he always does, hands firm at his side and facial features juxtaposing each other as if he were modern art, but his eyes, the eyes that you’ve grown used to seeing desire, confidence, and adoration, are instead filled with nothing but alarm. He stares at you with widened eyes, his jaw visibly tightening as he seems to stop breathing for a fleeting moment, and at his unusual gait, a sense of doom rises in your stomach. 

“I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight,” Mr. Jung’s gruff voice blares through the speakers while he holds the microphone close to his mouth. “Today is a very, very special night for Jung & Associates; a very special night for my beloved son, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun finally tears his eyes from yours to look at his father, flashes the audience a kilowatt smile, as if he hadn’t looked at you with such alarm just mere seconds ago. 

“As we all know, my time as CEO of Jung & Associates has already come to an end, and I figured, with one last bang, why don’t I announce my son’s rise to the chair with a celebration?” he turns towards Jaehyun, whose lips are pressed tightly in a line. “I know that he’ll prove to be an amazing chief executive; he’s responsible, articulate, and intelligent - he is the son I have always dreamt of, and he is everything Jung & Associates has aimed for in our empire.”

You see Johnny‘s jaw clench from beside you against the dim lighting, and on the other side of the table, you see Jaemin gulp, and you couldn’t help but frown at how much pain their own father’s words must have caused the both of them. You reach out in an attempt to squeeze Johnny’s arm as a sense of comfort, as he is much closer to you physically, but a voice that causes your nerves to run wild inside of you blares through the speakers, causing you to pause mid-action and look back towards the platform. 

“Thank you, father,” Jaehyun says when the older man gives him the microphone, he toys with the wire before clearing his throat, looking back into the audience. “I’m very excited for the journey I’ll be taking with Jung & Associates; this has been my dream since I was a child, so I’m really happy to be here today.”

There is a pregnant pause in the air, and he takes a hitched breath. “As well for another announcement,” Jaehyun continues. “I’m very excited to announce a new era for Jung & Associates - we have merged with Kim & Park Law, an honour as we move into a bigger empire. Helping people is what both of our firm’s prioritize, so it only felt right.“

An applause breaks out in the crowd, and politely, you clap too, although you are unsure as to what was going on. You wondered how your design was going to be shown, when it will be revealed; you should have inquired your manager before arriving - this doesn’t seem like the correct environment for a revealing.

“That being said, I have one last announcement. I’m sure all of you are wondering just why I’m talking about the future of the merge between Jung & Associates Kim & Park Law, when we’ve merged with plenty other companies in the past. Well, it’s due to the fact that the worries of the future does not only pertain to the company, but to my personal life as well,” he pauses, and he looks around the room for a fleeting moment, but when his eyes land on yours, it seems as if the moment had lasted for years. A woman, a beautiful woman of tall stature with glowing blonde hair and skin kissed slightly by the sun walks up to the platform to stand next to Jaehyun, and adorned on her form is your design, with its lavender fabric that shines against the spotlight as if it were painted onto her skin, whose flowers decals swept against the floor in youthful, yet graceful, wonder. When Jaehyun finally tears his gaze from yours to look at her, she gives him a smile filled with love, and Jaehyun, with his dimples carved deep into the corners of his mouth, smiles back. 

“Chaeyoung Park, the beautiful daughter of one of the co-founder of Kim & Park Law, is to be my wife. Tonight, I am announcing our engagement.”

The doom that had been brewing in your stomach for the past few days had penetrated into your heart when the words absorb into your eardrums; the sinking feeling inside of you and the twisting pain that had erupted in your chest drowned out the applause and cheers of duress that had taken over the sound waves of the hall, your breath hitching in your throat as you wish only for the ground to swallow you whole. Johnny and Ten turn towards you, their eyes widened in horror as they open their mouths frantically, but you are unable to hear what they are saying. Irene, beside you, grabs your hand once more and rests her other one atop the back of your hand, and when you turn towards her, when you meet her heartbroken, pitiful gaze, when you realize that you and Jung Jaehyun, the man who had not only taken your opportunity of glory by taking away the attention from your first ever design, had also decided to tear your heart and soul apart in the most painful fashion.

The last thing you had remembered before your eyesight became a blur was forcefully standing up, the screeching of the legs of your chair hushed by the audience’s celebration, and walking out of the hall with Irene running after you as you will yourself to not let the tears spill past your waterline.

You come to when the moonlight that casts down into your dark bedroom causes your interior to glow ethereally; perhaps, if it were your usual day, you would stop to admire the setting - but even the most extravagant view is dust to you now as you wreak broken sobs of dismal into Irene’s comforting arms. 

“He’s not worth your tears, (Y/N),” Irene comforts you, motherly hand caressing your hair as she lets you sob. She hums soothingly as she does so, your body trembling in ache. “He’s just another ignorant, immature boy. He’ll bring the end of this stupid law firm while you’ll continue to reign with Decoré.”

“It hurts so much, Irene,” you sob into the fabric of her Elie Saab garment, guilty that you’re staining the silk with your heartbroken tears. “My heart hurts so much, he told me he loved me just last night and I told him I loved him back. I should have listened to you, how could I have trusted him? How could I be so thoughtless?”

“Shh,” Irene’s voice is soothing as she pushes you back to look at your face. “I will say, I did warn you. However, you can’t control your curiosity nor who you love, (Y/N). And yes, although you fell in love with a man of whom I want to do nothing else to but murder, you were not being thoughtless. You just did what you thought was right.”

“Nothing I did was right,” you wipe the tears that streamed down your face. “If I did what was right, then I would have never caught sight of him that first night, then I would have never met Johnny, then I would have never kept running into him in different countries, and I would have never fallen in love with him.”

She tucks a hair behind your ear before wiping your tears with her thumb, smearing some of your mascara and eyeliner underneath your red, swollen eyes. She smiles with a bittersweetness. “Everything happens for a reason, (Y/N).”

You change out of your dress, hem stained by grass and dirt marks from walking carelessly through the front garden towards the entrance when you were leaving the gala, and Irene stays outside your door as she informs Seokjin that she’ll be staying over at your home. She doesn’t tell her fiancé what had happened, deciding to keep it a secret between the two of you, and Johnny and Ten. You let out a sigh as you remember the two men’s shocked faces when they had turned to you, anger and denial clear in their faces; were you and Jaehyun not as discreet as you had thought? Your stomach twisted in pain when you think of more options; had Jaehyun lied to you about keeping it a secret?

“Irene?” your voice is meek when you reach out to her arm as the two of you lay beside each other in your plush bed hours after your sobbing had calmed down. She hums, flipping her sleeping mask away from her eyes as she looks at you. “How did you know about Jaehyun and I?” 

She waits for a few seconds, as if pondering on what to say. “The tension between the two of you was claustrophobic,” she says after a few seconds. “You also both held these... certain gazes towards each other. Gazes that I gave Seokjin when I pined for him, and gazes that I still give him now.” 

Your stomach twists once more as tears spring against your waterline. Perhaps asking wasn’t the correct decision. You sniff, in an attempt to calm your emotions. “Oh.”

“It’ll be okay, (Y/N),” Irene sighs, her hand on top of yours in an effort to comfort you, acknowledging your shaking voice. “It will be hard, but you can find a better man. A better man than Jaehyun had ever been.”

“Of course.” you whisper. “Goodnight, Irene.”

“Goodnight.”

Later that night, when Irene’s soft snoring emits from her form beside you, you reach for your phone that slept against your bedside table. When you rouse it awake, a dull pain seeps into your heart at the sight of the notifications that lined your screen; all of them were from Jaehyun. A tear escapes your eyes as you unlock your device, willing yourself to not read the countless messages he had sent you, almost enraged at his ignorance for even thinking of doing such a thing - was it his goal to mock you, to taunt you of how your body was under control of his lips? 

You think back on his actions towards you for the past year you’ve been aware of his existence, filled with aching eyes and desired touches, small exchanges of soft smiles and slight smirks. Had that all just been an act, for him? Had he looked at you with lust, only to go back home and give his girlfriend, his fiancée, the same ones - only this time, with authentic emotions? Had he spent the last year making it seem as if he were the one pining after you, when in reality, you were the one that had those feelings? Had he doused the three words he said on your last affair in a brew of lies before letting them absorb into your eardrums? Had wickedness glowed in his heart when you uttered the same three words back? 

Because, as you continue upon thinking more about the situation, late that night, you realize that his fiancée was not the one that hurt you - she probably had no clue about all of this, just as you had been. 

You were the other woman.

Your heart clenches in your chest sending a wreck of pain through your nerves, biting your lip to muffle back a broken sob as thoughts fly into your mind at a pace you had never encountered before.

Jung Jaehyun knew you; he knew all your secrets when you uttered them in his ear when you would lay next to him in bed, he knew of your quirks that would slip out when trying to keep your relations discreet in the public eye, he knew of the facade that you would put up after stepping past the gates of your house, he knew what your body liked and craved and how to get you to slip over the edge when he would fuck you, he knew of your goals, he knew of your wishes, he knew of your desire for love and marriage - but you knew nothing about Jung Jaehyun.

You swallow once in an attempt to calm the increasing regret that begins to fill your stomach before tapping your screen one final time that night, the block button that sits underneath his contact emitting a light blue before his number finally disappears from your device, deleting your text conversations, erasing every lingering retention of Jung Jaehyun.

-----

The plain taste of water fills your mouth and you think to yourself, perhaps you should have ordered a much more tasteful drink to accompany the savoury meal in front of you, of different breads, seasonings and pastas. Your shoulders are straight as you sit in the chair of crushed velvet, corset at a comfortable tightness as you keep a watchful gaze on the people around you. A sigh escapes your mouth when you spot a lovely couple seated a few seats away from you, hands outstretched and on top of each other against the wooden table, love full in their eyes as they gazed at each other in admiration.  

Perhaps coming here was the wrong idea. 

Three years ago, you were brought to the chair of Decoré after the sudden passing of your mother, a tragic event that graced headlines much to your grief in utter remembrance - the year of her death was an ache to you, every person you turned to would bring it up, which would only spark tears in your eyes and pain in your chest. Becoming used to the chair was not an easy task at all either, having to give up the modelling career that you had forged from a young age in order to focus fully on the company’s strings - and you didn’t have your mother to help you either. As the years went by, you formed into a different woman; long gone was the girl who put a mask in front of the public in order to keep her reputation spotless, long gone was the girl who calculated her movements in order to keep an outrage from sparking - however, sometimes, when all the lights in your lonesome penthouse are turned off and all you can hear is the distant buzz of the streets below, you would silently cry to yourself, wishing like a child that everything hadn’t changed so drastically. 

You and Irene are still in contact, as close as ever, and you had the will to have invited you on your trip - but due to her growing family and growing pregnant belly, she was most likely unable to accompany you on your planned rendezvous’ these recent days; Johnny, ever the positive man, also continued to contact you as well, albeit sparsely - but the incident that had happened caused a strain to form on your friendship - he treated you like a ticking time bomb, careful with his words in order to not let a memory spring in your mind. Last you heard, he had adopted two little twin girls with his husband. You, on the other hand, admittedly have had your nights of pleasure, hooking up with random men dressed in fancy custom suits that you’d meet at random lounges and events, but they were never serious. They would always leave right after your affair ends. Your ring finger bears no band, and you’re unsure if it ever will.

Presently, you sit at a lounge, someplace in Milan, celebrating the opening of a new boutique in your favoured city, lonesome. In due fairness, you were planning to ask your secretaries and closest employees to accompany you, but after the hard work they had put into opening the new branch in a foreign country, you opted to give them the rest of the day off instead. As crowds of people chatted amongst themselves in duress, all you can do is sip hesitantly at your water and pick at your food, regretting the idea of coming here alone. It seems as the universe is mocking you, as well, decorations of hearts and and cupids littered against the walls of the restaurant, as today is Valentine’s day - everyone around you is on a date, perhaps their first or one of many, and you are sitting there, alone, completely out of place. 

Yes, coming here was definitely the wrong idea.

Yet, you couldn’t bear to let the food you had ordered and had people put their backbone into making to go to waste, so instead of standing up to retrieve your tweed coat hung on the backrest of your chair, you continue to eat quietly, by yourself, underneath the guise of being distracted by your phone screen. As you ponder about the what-ifs, thinking about having ordering room service from the comfort of your hotel room instead, a waitress props a tall, skinny glass of a familiar liquid in front of you. 

“Domaine de la romanée-cont, Ms. (Y/L/N),” she greets you with a gracious smile, bowing her head slightly. “From the gentleman at the bar.”

You furrow your eyebrows together in bewilderment at the glass before thanking the waitress and sending her on her way. You study the flute intently, gazing at it’s red liquid that seemed to glow against the yellow lighting of the restaurant, before wrapping your fingers around it to take it towards your lips. The bitter taste of domaine de la romanée-cont graces your taste buds when the liquid engulfs your mouth and you think to yourself, perhaps the theory of a maturing palate is true, you do not favour the taste of the wine that you would eagerly look for at events when you were younger and in your old household - but it also brings another memory to you, a distant recalling, eyes that you have not looked into for the past few years embedding into your brain when the taste hits your tongue. 

Jung Jaehyun is a distant name to you now, the taste of his name slipping off your tongue becoming a foreign feeling as each day passes, fingerprints he left on your skin slowly eroding away through time. Often, you’d see his face on the screen of your television, read his name on front pages of magazines that they’d display at those corner stores you’d idly pass by, or hear his name in hushed chatter from people around you engrossed in their own conversation - but as quickly as he had nearly ingrained himself into your life once more, you’d change the channel, or flip the page, or tune out of the conversation. Although no parts of you hold no bearing of the memoirs of Jung Jaehyun, sometimes, you’d find yourself laying awake at night, wishing for the memories that still lay in the cavities of your brain to come to life once again, to feel his fingerprints burn into your skin much like they had five years ago - but as a chief executive at the age of twenty-seven, all you can do is tell yourself to grow up, and force yourself to do paperwork instead of wishing for something that will never come true. 

So when you spot Jung Jaehyun sat at the dark mahogany bar after looking for the man who had paid for this drink, with his umber eyes boring into yours, you are unsure on how to act.

He is as beautiful as the first time you laid eyes on him, his facial features a stunning juxtaposition as the dim overhead lighting of the bar accentuates his sleek cheeks and soft jawline, his sharp lips and soft, brown eyes. His hair, remaining a jet-black, much like the first time that you had seen him, is brushed over his forehead messily. He wears a simple white button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, tucked into a pair of black trousers adorned with a belt. On his wrist, as he cradles a glass of champagne as he watches you, is a golden watch from Louis Vuitton, His mouth is pulled into a straight line, and in his eyes, hold observe, as if he were waiting for how you would react. Even now, when he approaches you and sits in the chair opposite from yours, his eyes still hold a deep meaning. 

Upon meeting his eye, it seems as if all the memories you have buried deep into your brain becomes uncovered, images flashing before your eyes in montages like an old film movie; his eyes gazing into yours with desire, fingers pressing into your skin as to leave a crater of himself on your form, lips ghosting the crook of your neck when he used to roll his hips into you - the act alone is enough to make you gasp from both shock and hurt, tears slightly beginning to tease your waterline, but you take note of the environment around you and decide that you shouldn’t act out. 

“Jung Jaehyun,” you finally speak, keeping your tone unwavering. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” he speaks, setting the bottom of his glass against the white cloth. Jet black strands fall past his eyes and he brushes them back, before meeting his eyes with you again. “I hope you have been well, (Y/N).”

“I have.” you answer him, switching your gaze back and forth between his eyes - what was his goal in speaking to you like this; you do not hold an inkling of care for him as you once did, was his plan to taunt you of your old affairs? You decide not to thank him on his greeting, nor return it, and continue to speak venomously. “Why are you here?”

He seems taken aback from your blunt answers, stilling for only a fleeting moment before parting his lips again. “I’m here to oversee the Milan branch,” he answers you in a strain. “I was just enjoying a night out when I saw you, and I wanted to greet you again.”

“Alright.” you simply give him a simper, setting your fork down before you push the avoided glass of domaine de la romanée-cont towards him. He watched your action with puzzled eyes. “I don’t like the taste of this wine anymore; you should have just kept your money in your pocket.”

“Oh,” is all he could say. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything, instead, you begin to pack up your belongings into your purse, quickly arranging the utensils of the finished meal in front of you to help the waitresses clean your table easier for when you leave. You avoid his gaze when you finally stand up, taking your tweed coat hanging off the backrest of your seat and sliding it on, brushing your hair out from being tucked into it. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jung.” you tell him, still not attempting to hold his watchful eye as you turn on your heel and walked towards the exit, not wanting to hear any words slip past his lips. You are appalled, could a man really be so ignorant, to attempt to mock you in front of your face, even years later? Perhaps he still held himself in high regard from the past, and though a small part of you wreaks with hurt, slight tears springing to your eyes when the February air kisses your cheeks as you walk past the doors, anger still continues to move through your nerves. 

“(Y/N),” you hear his voice following after you as you walk through the cobblestone walkways, the calm waters of the Navigli canal that was located right at the exit juxtaposing the emotions that stir inside of you at the sound of his voice. “Please, I just want to talk.”

You continue to walk away from him, hearing his fast footsteps a few meters behind yours. “You had the chance to talk to me years ago before that night.” you simply say, pushing your hands into the pockets of your coat from the cold air. “I’m afraid you’ve lost your chance.”

“(Y/N),” he sighs, and you hear him begin to jog to your side, and once he comes into view, all you can do is bump past him in a fit of aggravation. “Please, listen to me. Just let me talk.”

“I don’t have time to talk. I run a company. Don’t you?” you say in a hard tone. You hear his footsteps come to a stop and you let out a relieved sigh at the thought - you just wanted to leave past him and never see him again, just as he had done to you all those years ago; his voice causes you to halt, just seconds later. 

“I do not.” his voice is a few meters away from you but the tone of his voice causes your step to falter, and you widen your eyes at the discovery. 

You furrow your eyebrows together before pivoting on his heel to face him, finding his form closer to your body than you had anticipated. “What do you mean?”

“Jung & Associates isn’t under my command anymore. I gave up the position to my youngest brother, Jaemin, who was more ready than I ever was,” he tells you, eyes dark, voice genuine, but the wall that has built before your heart causes your form to stay rigid. “Have you not seen the articles going around, (Y/N)? I did this nearly two years ago. I want no responsibility of the sort - father nearly kicked me out of the family for my choices, but I’m just Jung Jaehyun now.”

You weigh the options of believing him and avoiding his words for a few seconds, opting for the latter as you let out a scoff. The calm waters beside the two of your forms stays moving in slow waves. “Don’t expect me to believe your lies, Jaehyun.”

“I’m not lying.” he says. “I have never lied to you.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” you spit, and a sense of hurt flashes in his eyes - you want to slap him, how dare he feel hurt at your words when he’s caused you greater hurt than you’ve ever felt. “How can you expect me to believe you when everything we’ve ever done together was based on false words?”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N),” he says, reaching out towards you but you slap his hand away - retracting his arm as more pain pools into his pupils. You feel the tears finally begin to tease your waterline the moment you had touched him, letting out a soft cry. “What we had was real, and you know that.”

“No, it wasn’t.” you tell him, attempting to keep your tone unwavering. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me again, Jung Jaehyun. I was the other woman, and you never had the audacity to tell me. You never had the audacity to at least give me the chance to end whatever... we were.”

“(Y/N).” he says, simply, but you only tear your eyes off of him, letting out a sigh of annoyance as you look at the calm waters of the canal beside you. 

”Please, just leave me be. Don’t you have a wife to take care of?”

“I don’t,” he tells you, and his words cause you to look at him again with puzzled eyes. He parts his lips again to speak. “Me and Chaeyoung were engaged under business terms - it was never real between us, I couldn’t bare marrying a woman I didn’t love, nor could she, so I ended the merge and our engagement, which cut my ties to the chair.”

You let out a breath at listening to him, eyes falling downcast to the ground, attempting to keep the tears from slipping down your cheeks, but you fail, the streaks hot against your face against the cool air. 

“Why would you do that?” you ask him in a hushed tone. 

He whispers back. “Life is a risk, isn’t it?”

Silence seduces the air between the two of you for a few seconds, the only sounds heard is the distant soundtrack of cars moving past the roads and the slight sloshing of the bed of water beside the two of you. His shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath, and then he parts his lips open. 

“The first time I saw you,” he says, taking a step towards you before bringing a hand up to wipe your tears from your face, his presence so close to you. “It was at your mother’s gala, that one spring. I was there due to my father’s orders to coax your mother into having us buy Decoré. I knew who you were, after researching the revenue of your company - but when I saw you... I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I came home that night, my father was angry that I couldn’t go through one task he had asked me to do - and he gave me a choice. Buy your company, or merge with another company by marriage.”

You keep quiet, letting his words pour into your ears as you listen intently, every syllable hard hitting to your chest as you feel your stomach begin to pool with trust.

“I remember I kept bumping into you in different cities,” he lets out a soft chuckle, juxtaposing the tears that are welling up in his eyes. “Bordeaux, Cebu... I remember butterflies going wild in my stomach when I saw you at the resort in Cebu, but my mind was set. I needed to talk to you, and so I ordered you your wine, and I finally was able to.”

You let out a shaky breath as you continue to listen to him, your mind swirling with thoughts but becoming silenced when he cradles your cheek in his palm.

“And that night in Milan,” he pauses, his hands cupping your cheeks now, an action burning into your skin much like the first few times he had done it long ago. “When I saw you walking down the runway with that wedding dress, walking towards me at the end of the runway… it all just made sense.”

You gasp lightly, widening your eyes at the realization of his words, and it is at your reaction that causes his tears to finally fall from his own eyes, staining his red cheeks with wet streaks. It is an action that causes you to recall the last time you had been entangled with him, wiping his tears away as the both of you whisper the three words that you’ve become so scared of uttering.

“Do you want to know the reason why I held such detest for Johnny, all those years ago?” he asks you, and you do not answer, continuing to look at him in bewilderment. “It was because I was jealous that he could live a life freely while I could not. It was because I was jealous that he could start his own career from what he favoured to do, and I had to take on the responsibilities of the family. It was because I envied the fact that he could marry whomever he wanted,” he paused, only for a brief moment, but it felt like millennia when all you could feel at that moment was your nerves exploding at his words. 

“And that I could not marry you.”

His lips are like home to you, warm against yours and sending a frenzy through your nerves, and you realize, perhaps you never really did forget the way his lips meshed against yours, and how it felt to feel his presence burn into your skin. Even as tears streamed down both of your cheeks as your lips mold into each other with both yearning and passion. You are unsure of how many moments you stand like that, still, hearing the water move beside the both of you quietly, the stars above you twinkling in their delight much like the lamp posts that litter the street, lips dancing against each other. Your hands are tangled in his hair, each strand brushing against your fingers and palms in a familiar dance, as his hands cup against your mouth - and you realize why you have grown to dislike the taste of domaine de la romanée-cont, the wine you use to favour - it’s because you have found your favourite taste in Jaehyun’s lips.

You find your hands having a mind of their own when you pull him by the collar of his coat, bringing him closer to you, and within seconds you are hastily leading him through the walkways towards your hotel. Your lips are still molded together at the front of the hotel, at the entrance of the lobby, the warm yellow lights that emit from the chandeliers inside spilling out to your forms. Perhaps, years ago, you would never do such a brash act in public - but at present, you could care less for the possible paparazzi loitering around the area, you could care less of the stares that the both of you attract when you drag him through the lobby towards the elevator shafts, stepping in, never once moving away from each other. When you pull away with panting breaths, he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes closed as his tears calm. His hands are still placed on your waist, unwilling to let go, and the both of you relish in each other’s presence for a moment, letting silence overtake you; slowly letting the other settle back into their life, dwelling themselves in the space that they had used to take. 

“I want you,” he whispers, the ghost of his breath brushing against your nose as you let your hands fall from the strands of his hair and onto his cheeks. One of his hands make it on top of yours, warm against your skin. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“You have me now,” you whisper, hands trailing from his cheeks towards the hardening member underneath the fabric of his trousers. “So please ruin me.” 

Both of your bodies deem impatient when the bell sounds with a ding!, announcing that the two of you had arrived to the floor of your penthouse - you are only thankful that the immediate first step from exiting the elevator is already your lounge room, discarding your coat onto the ground as you swiftly push Jaehyun further into your penthouse. His hands have transitioned from gentle touches to rougher grips, arms wrapped around your waist now, letting you lead the way as his slick tongue slips past yours. He moans into the kiss as you push him down towards the suede black couch that decorates your lounge; your knees are on both sides of him, straddling him, never once breaking your kiss. You run your fingers through his hair as he leans back against the backrest of the couch, fingers tracing down your clothed spine and then cupping your ass through the fabric of your noir Dior dress. You pull away from his lips slightly to let out a moan that had been building up since you had last seen him - you hadn’t realized how much your body ached for his touch.

“So eager...” he whispers as you pant out, his lips attaching onto your neck, reminding your skin of what his tongue had felt like. He slowly moves his hands underneath your dress, rolling the tight fabric up over your bottom, your bare-skin now exposed to the cool temperature of your penthouse. His hands are warm against your flesh before he raises his hand to smack your pad of skin lightly, the contact causing a sound to ripple through the air as you let out a soft gasp. You feel him smirk against your skin. “You like that, darling?”

The nickname that slipped past his tongue causes your core to throb, having not heard those words from him in so long - it’s laughable really, how you were still underneath Jung Jaehyun’s five years later, even after you swore never to pine for him again. Your cheeks heat up as he continues to smack your ass, leaning back now to watch your facial expressions, a smug smirk on his face. “Look at you. You like being spanked, darling?” he taunts you, and your core throbs once more. 

You bite down on your lip to suppress a moan as you nod your head, his hits slowly begin to turn harder, pain burning into your skin - but you love it all; Jaehyun puts his mark onto you again, this time, they’ll never fade away. He spanks you sharply, and you let a yelp emit from your lips. “That’s it,” he grins when he hears your whine, his black hair brushing past his eyes. “Let it out, darling. Make the entire hotel know what I’m doing to you.”

You find yourself rocking your hips slowly after every spank, rutting your wet panties against the swelling hardness in Jaehyun’s trousers. You hadn’t realized what you had been doing until he lets out a low groan, craning his neck backwards at the sensation of your clothed heats grinding into each other. He grips his fingers into the flesh of your ass as you continue. 

“You’re so fucking hard already,” you whisper, the outline of his cock against your core causing shudders to rake through your nerves. He bites down on his lip as his eyes flutter shut, causing you to smirk; you rut your hips faster. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone sensitive, Jaehyun. It would be such a bummer if you cum so early in our affair.” 

He seems to snap back into reality at your sentence, eyes opening and craning his neck straight to look towards you, umber eyes turning a shade dark before one of his hands find their way against your clothed heat. “You’ve gotten brave,” he says in a hushed tone. “Just because I haven’t fucked you in a while doesn’t mean you can take control. That’s not how it works, darling.”

“I can take control over you whenever I wa-“ you start, but your sentence is cut short at the feeling of Jaehyun pushing your thin panties to the side before harshly pressing his long fingers into you, causing you to lean forward at the sensation that you have yearned for so long. In the corner of your eye, you see him smirk in arrogance, but you cannot say anything - not when he’s already began to fuck his finger into you. “Fuck, Jaehyun!”

“Finish your sentence.” he whispers calmly, as if his digits weren’t doing something so obscene. “You know how much I hate it when people don’t finish their sentences. You can take control of me? Is that what you were gonna say?”

“J-Jaehyun!” you mewl, legs buckling as you lose your balance on top of him, your hips having a mind of their own as you begin to rock your hips against his fingers. He moves you swiftly, so that your back is against his chest, legs spread with the help of his own, his fingers pushing in and out of you so deliciously. 

“Answer my fucking question, slut.” he says, baritone voice deep in your ear. 

The name causes you to gasp, sinful words and the sensation of his long, thick digits spreading you apart after so long already having you see stars in your eyes. “J-Jaehyun,” you whimper, voice wavering with every pump he fucks into you. “I was w-wrong. Y-You have control over me. I’m yours.”

You feel him smile against your ear. “Good.” he praises you, the pads of his fingers brushing against your sweet spot that causes your toes to curl and for you to let out a sweet mewl. “Now tell me how good of a whore you are and if I should let you cum or not. Did you let other people fuck your cunt while I was gone?”

You bite down on your lip as his digits pick up the pace, moving in and out of your hole with sopping sounds; the room is filled with a sinful soundtrack of Jaehyun’s dirty words, your breathy whimpers, and the sound of his palm slapping against your cunt. He brushes past your spot again, which causes you to buck your hips, letting out a louder mewl. He pushes your waist down with his free hand, wrapping his legs around yours to bring them wider, fully having you encompassed in his body. His fingers do not stop though, they ram against your sweet spot repeatedly, earning high-pitched moans to emit from your throat; all that you are able to say, is his name. “Don’t you fucking listen?” he growls into your ear, digits ruthless as they continue to fuck into you, stretching your walls out the way you like. “Tell me. Did other people fuck your cunt while I was gone?”

You bite onto your lip and weigh your options, whether you should tell him the truth, or not. Throughout the past five years of not wanting to face Jaehyun, you have accumulated quite a list of men that you had hooked up with for the enjoyment of one single night - many of them left you unsatisfied, but anything was better than you being left to your own devices. Tears begin to spring your eyes at the doubled speed Jaehyun was going now - you had forgotten how ruthless he is in bed, just the way you like it. 

“Yes.” you decide to tell him the truth, although, you come to regret it when Jaehyun pulls his wet fingers out of you and slaps your cunt, your sensitive clit hit with dull thud of pain before he plunges his fingers deep into you again.

“Dirty whore,” he spits, but you’re unable to answer at the amount of pleasure overtaking your core. “Who? Who fucked you while I was gone? Tell me all of them or else you won’t get to cum.”

You tighten your walls around his fingers when he brushes past your spot for the nth time but he pulls his fingers out of you before you are able to be pushed to the edge, the built up high slowly fading just slightly before he plunges them back in again, a mewl emitting from your lips when realizing that your orgasm has to be built once again. “Jaehyun!” you whine, bucking your hips in aggravation against his ruthless hand, but he tightens his grip on you. 

“I fucking said, tell me who fucked you,” he says through grit teeth. “Or else you won’t be able to cum at all.”

“N-Nakamoto Yuta,” you whisper. Your walls spasm around his fingers again, when he brushes the pads of his digits against your spot. You let out a moan as the pleasure rakes through your body, but you continue to power through, aching for your orgasm to rip through your limbs. “Kim Taehyung, L-Lee Minhyuk,” his fingers seem to bear no ending as they continue to fuck in and out of you while you recite each name that you are able to recall under the circumstance, but all that comes to and end when you utter the last name. “Kim Doyoung.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and hastily grabs your hair, forming it into a makeshift ponytail as he pulls your head closer to him. His grip on your scalp is tight and you let out a cry of pain as well as annoyance at your ruined orgasm - yet, you wanted more. He slowly moves you to the side, standing up from the couch and setting his feet in front of you, towering over your form, and you feel your heart sink in both fear and excitement. 

“Kim Doyoung?” he chuckles lowly, slightly tugging on your hair harshly before redirecting your gaze to his belt, and your breath hitches in your throat at the realization of what he wants you to do. “So tell me, darling. Did he fuck you until you couldn’t walk, just like you wanted?”

Out of all the men that you had found yourself in bed with, often random strangers who believed it would be a stepping stone towards achieving your empire by your side, Kim Doyoung was one that you were not expecting. After running into him in a jazz lounge in New York City; the both of you caught up on what the other had missed, apologized for not staying in contact - and as each glass of liquor passed by the both of you in blurs, you quickly come to when both of your forms were barely able to make it to his bed, having bent you over the kitchen counter of his penthouse as he drilled into you from behind. 

Just like Jaehyun, Doyoung was ruthless - he left marks on your skin that you had to cover for almost a week before you were certain they weren’t to be seen by the media, and for the entire day after the ordeal, you had deemed too sore to walk, having to call into your headquarters to inform them that you would be working from home that day. However, unlike Jaehyun, you held no connection with Doyoung - his gaze, though filled with lust and desire, held no longing and yearning for who you really are; his touch, though pleasurable and able to bring you to the edge, did not light fires against your skin. 

As you pull Jaehyun’s pants down, his throbbing cock slapping against his stomach, the memories of that night are pushed out of your mind at the expense of your desire. You quickly wrap your hands around his shaft, thick and large - your core twitching at the thought of his cock stretching you out again. You part your lips before you swirl your tongue on his pink tip, the sensation of your slick tongue slathering around him letting a low groan emit from his throat. “Shit, baby,” he groans, relaxing his grip on your hair, pushing stray strands away from your face to get a better view. 

“Fuck, I missed your pretty little mouth so much.”

You had forgotten how big he was when you attempt to take all of him into your throat, a gagging sound reverberating off the walls of your penthouse, which causes him to groan louder. “Shit,” he hisses, and he begins to rock his hips slowly. “Yeah, that’s right, choke on my cock like the dirty little whore you are.”

His throbbing tip hits the back of your throat in repeated beats, tears springing into your eyes as your gagging causes more saliva to flow out your mouth. He slowly begins to thrust faster, craning his head back at how good your throat feels around him; the grip he held in your hair tightens once again, keeping your head in place as he fucks your mouth. “Mmm, shit,” he grunts. “So fucking good. Such a whore, letting me fuck your throat, hm? Fuck! I missed you so fucking much.”

Obscenities fall from his lips as he continued to rut into your mouth, lewd noises of saliva against flesh emitting throughout the room; tears stained with mascara line down your face but you keep your hands trained on his hips as support - you’re almost sure that your sopping heat has begun to stain the fabric of the couch you sat atop. He thrusts once more, slowly this time, a guttural grunt sounding from his chest as he stuff your mouth - the tip of your nose tickles the base of his cock, and you screw your eyes shut to combat your gagging reflex, before he pulls out, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg him, leaning back into the couch as you desperately spread your legs apart, inviting him to your wet pussy. You pout at him through teary eyes, not bothering to wipe the saliva that lines your mouth, not bothered at the saliva that had stained your expensive dress, wanting nothing more than to be fucked already. “Please fuck me, I need you so bad. Please, Jaehyun.”

“Such an eager whore,” he chuckles as he moves in closer, positioning his cock against your pussy before he reaches to the top of your dress. He uncovers your chest roughly, you’re almost sure you can hear the slight ripping of fabric when he does, but you don’t care - not when his cock slides between your folds like that, barely attempting to plunge in. “I thought you were busy running a business? Looks like you have plenty of time to fuck.”

“Jaehyun, please...” you whine each time his tip passes by your entrance, but he continues to slather your lingering saliva and his pre-cum all over your pussy. “Please just fuck me, Jaehyun. Please.”

He smirks in arrogance before he drives into you with no warning, knocking the air out of you as you barely have time to readjust to his size before he begins to slam into you repeatedly, causing your voice ripping through the air as you scream his name repeatedly. “Jaehyun! Jaehyun!”

“You’ve become such a slut while I was gone, darling,” he grunts as he grabs onto your legs for balance as he stretches out your cunt, spreading your legs further. You are certain your body will never forget this sensation now, just as delicious as the first time he had done it, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Did you forget who your cunt belongs to?”

You are unable to form a sentence as each push into you just continues to knock the air out of your lungs, mewling in pleasure at his cock sliding against your slick walls. His hands gripped at your waist roughly, watching you bounce underneath him in your glory; your hair splayed around your face as if handpicked like fresh daisies. You feel your orgasm nearing, but Jaehyun seems to have no qualms for stopping, continuing to pull out of you entirely before snapping back in even as he feels your walls quivering. “Cumming already?” he growls, voice strained as he rocks his core wildly. “What a fucking slut.”

Gripping at the sheets is all you could do in that moment to keep your sense of self occupied, your orgasm finally ripping through your body, arching your back as his name emits through the air that you’re sure the hotel’s inhabitants would hear from the first floor. “Jaehyun, I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!”

He doesn’t stop though, if anything, his hips move faster and rougher against yours, the only sound accentuating your screaming are his hips slapping against your cunt - even as you come down from your orgasm, your body numb as you settle, he continues to fuck into you, face contorted into pleasure. Your legs tremble with each time he brushes against your spot, hips bucking wildly each rut he pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re still so, so, fucking tight,” he grunts, voice deep and filled with need. “I missed you so fucking much. Are you on the pill, babyl?”

“No,” you moan into his ear when he pushes into you deep and rough. “I don’t care. I want your cum inside me, please. I want it so bad.”

He groans at your words, his hips beginning to roll faster, holding you in his arms and burying your face in your neck as he does. “F-Fuck,” the vibrations of his voice tickles the skin of your neck. “You want my cum, baby? You want me to fuck a baby into you? Hm? Is that what you want? Get you pregnant to prove to you who your cunt really belongs to?”

“Yes!” you practically beg, hungering for your second orgasm. At this point, you are unable to even comprehend what slips past your mouth, your voice a montage of lewd noises and gibberish as his hips snap against you. Your sight has darkened, all your senses have gone numb, all you are able to focus on is his cock driving further and further into you over and over again, and his voice that seemed miles away even while he whispers the most sinful things into your ear. 

“Mmm, fuck! I’m gonna c-cum, baby, fuck!” he groans loudly, reverberating off the marble walls as he leans back; his hips begin to stutter against yours, feeling him twitch inside you as he fills you up, moans of your name and other crude words slipping past his tongue. You let out breathy pants as he slowly pulls out of you, his cock coming out of your cunt as his cum follows soon after, the fluid warm against your abused skin - he takes his long fingers and swipes up some of the drip before plunging his fingers deep into your cunt again, causing another moan to rip through your throat.

“Oh my fucking god, Jaehyun,” you squeal, reaching down to grab his arm to keep his fingers from pounding into you again, but the overriding sensation has already taken over you nerves, your pleads of mercy turning into moans of pleasure. Your toes curl as the lewd sounds of his fingers pumping his cum back into you reaches your ears. 

“Take it,” he grunts, watching your red face, hot with gratifaction. “Take all my cum, baby. So, so pretty carrying my baby. You’ll be glowing, so fucking precious and beautiful. And everyone will know that I’m the one who got you like that, yeah? Right, baby?” 

“Y-Yes, Jaehyun,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel your third orgasm of the night approaching, his fingers relentless against your cunt, making sure none of him leaks out. He brushes past your spot one last time, sensitive and numb, before you throw your head back into the cushions of your couch, final orgasm ripping through your nerves, unable to do anything else but moan quietly at both the plain and pleasure. “O-Oh my god.”

When your orgasm finally settles, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes progress from the darkest you have ever seen them back to their normal, soft umber tone, leaning up to kiss you softly. You have tears in your eyes from what your body endured, and you’re far too sore to move your limbs, but you kiss back, relishing in the feeling that you have missed for so long - he picks you up from the couch, your legs hanging in the air as he holds you close as he successfully finds your bedroom. He lays you down on the plush mattress and reaches to the bedside table where a box of tissues laid, wiping your body down, his actions mellow and calm, as he utters sweet nothings to you. “You’re so, so beautiful. You’re so good to me. You’re my entire world.” 

When he finally finishes cleaning the both of you up, he wastes no time in getting into the other side of the bed, holding you close against him. Your breathing had finally calmed, your chest rising and falling in tranquil beats. You lay your cheek against his chest, relishing in the still environment that occupied the space around you. 

“Jaehyun,” you utter, after a few moments of silence. “You won’t leave, this time, right?”

“Never,” Jaehyun assures you, his hand running through your hair. “I have never left in the first place.” 

A soft smile makes its way onto your lips as you close your eyes, delighting in the thudding beat of his heart in his chest. His fingers continue to play with the strands of your hair, his breathing calming to your ears, lulling you as if it were a lullaby.

“Please talk to me,” you whisper, just a few seconds before sleep overtakes you. “Tell me about yourself. I want to hear your voice.”

He takes a few moments of pause, before you hear him breathe in. “My name is Jung Jaehyun,” he starts. “I am twenty-seven years old, I am the son of Jaejin and Shinae Jung, I have three brothers, my favourite colour is white, I love spring, I like to sing,” he pauses again, and you feel him press a tender kiss against the hair on the crown of your head.

“And I am in love with you.”

-----

The rising sun is warm against your face as you gaze at the gradient sky above you, hues of purples turning into deep oranges before coming together into a light blue. The clouds move laggardly against the beautiful sky; in the distance, you can hear the ocean waves crashing against the shores of the Amalfi coast, the scent of salt-water calming to your nerves as you take in a deep breath. The sky drenches you in an orange hue as you wrap your satin chiffon robe around you tighter, the slight breeze that blows against your form causing the foliage decorated on your balcony to dance in groups. You hear the sound of the door that separates your balcony landing from your hotel room, and a smile teases your lips when you feel strong arms wrap around you from behind.

“You’re up early,” his breath his warm against you ear as he holds you tightly, eyes gazing at the view alongside you. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Just enjoying the view.” you reply, resting your head against his as he slowly begins to sway you back and forth. Your hands snake around his arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers ghosting over the wedding ring wrapped around your finger. “Are the kids still asleep?”

“Yes,” he whispers, his arms secured around your form. He chuckles lightly against your ear. “The two of them were snoring before I walked out here. It was adorable, actually.”

“How cute,” you coo, smiling fondly. “Maybe we should take them to the beach today! It’s been a long time since I’ve swam in the ocean.”

“We should; for now though...” he answers, voice turning low. “The kids won’t be up until a few hours.”

“Oh shush, you pervert,” a giggle passes your lips as you lightly hit his arm, which only causes him to chucke once more before tightening his hold on you slightly. “Let’s just enjoy this beautiful view for now.”

“This view is nothing compared to you.” he teases you, amusement clear in his voice as you feel his smile against your ear. 

“Goodness, Jung Jaehyun,” you tsk. “You’ve gotten so corny.” 

To wake up every day to the sight of Jung Jaehyun’s face is something that you would have only thought of as a dream years ago; to feel his hands wrapped around you in safety as sunlight pours in every single morning is a sensation you would have never thought to have. Gone were the early mornings of his absence, acknowledgements and memoirs only left behind with a crude or romantic note, traded with the blessing that adorned both of your ring fingers. 

The wedding was held at a small, humble chapel, held only a month after the both of you had found each other again. Guests of those who are important to the both of you attended with their valour and blessings - Irene, at first, was shocked with what had turned out, but after conversing with your now-husband and realizing that all that she had heard was nothing but false words, only tears of happiness lined her eyes when she saw you walk down the aisle. Johnny and Ten were there as well, joy clear in their demeanours as they congratulated the both of you - you had also discovered that both Johnny and Jaehyun had mended their brotherly relationship, laughs and kind gestures traded between them at the following reception. You had wished for your mother to be there as well, perhaps to show her that you really were able to find love that isn’t fake, as she had believed, or perhaps to see her bear tears for your happiness. 

And although your wedding was rushed and deftly planned, a few quirks showing up throughout the ceremony and reception, you couldn’t ask for anything more. Especially the moment when you finally sealed your love with a kiss at the front of the altar, the sensation enough to drown the sounds of your guest’s cheering in front of you. 

And as the years passed, you only found yourself falling more and more for Jaehyun, the same excitement gracing your nerves every day you were to hold his gaze, to point a smile at him, and to press your lips against his. Even now, after becoming parents to two of the most beautiful children, another one on the way; even now, when the slightest of crow’s feet line the sides of your eyes, and the first inklings of gray hair are beginning to grow from his scalp; even now, when you’re so used to waking up to his calm face in the early mornings - you still find yourself falling ever the more in love with him.

Jaehyun chuckles slightly, the vibrations of his voice tickling the skin of your neck as he presses tender kisses against it, his hands slowly ghosting over the slight bump that began to protrude from your stomach’s form. 

“Only for you, Mrs. Jung.”

And as you stand there, relishing in the view of the beautiful golden sky whose ocean underneath casts a reflection that is enough to make your jaw drop as well as the warmth of the man whom you love and loves you just as dearly back, you feel an emotion that you haven’t felt in years; an emotion that you know will stay with you for a long time.

You are happy.

FIN.

[taelme]

Friends-to-lovers!Mark

genre: friends-to-lovers!au, (fluff, angst, mutual pining lol might seem like slow burn) 

pairing/s : Mark / Reader, the dreamies all appear in this!! 

word count: 12k+ 

tw:  mild language, bullying :( but nothing too major im too weak to write that shit HAHHA 

a/n: this was a rly cute concept I always wanted to write,,, like a older brother figure best friend mark and it takes place in a church camp!! but you can just ignore that and pretend its a normal camp if you're not like religious I guess u know idk I hope u guys like this!! it was rly fun to write smth with all the dreamies :( gif creds to original poster

Stepping into the hall of the camp, you took in a deep breath of the air through your thin mask, the only thing you could smell being the stale material of the mask mixed with the warmth of the air you breathed out. Your eyes wandering around the room before landing on the familiar head of light brown hair. Lugging your duffel bag and sleeping bag over to where the boy was, you greeted, “Hi,” tone sounding too tired for his liking.

Looking up from his phone, he shot you a displeased look, his nostrils flaring slightly with the deep breath he took in as a prelude to the sigh you knew he was about to give you. “Took you long enough. What’s with the mask?”

“Mom told me she wouldn’t let me leave the house without it, says I’ll spread my germs to you guys,” you drawled with evident disbelief.

Donghyuck’s heart shaped lips curve into a smirk, “Strange, that’s never stopped you before, though.”

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair absentmindedly, eyes simultaneously searching the room for where Mark was and it didn’t take Donghyuck very long to catch onto what you were doing. 

“Dunno, I mean, it’s Mark’s first time as a camp coordinator. I wouldn’t want him having to deal with a whole flu breakout here..” you trailed off  

Donghyuck cooed sarcastically at your statement, “how disgustingly thoughtful of you. So, basically, what you’re trying to say is that you’re doing this to make life easier for your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you protested, earning an eye roll from Donghyuck- and a rather long one at that.

“I call bullshit!” You heard another voice pipe in and soon enough you could place a face to the voice when you saw Renjun take a seat next to Donghyuck, half-turning to Donghyuck to mutter, “I heard the word boyfriend and assumed she was denying her love for Mark again.”

You gasped, doing your best to look offended as you watched open-mouthed as Donghyuck shook hands with Renjun in approval, “Absolutely correct.”

You heard a shout of your name, turning your head to find the direction of the noise when you saw a navy blue sweater clad Mark, landyard round his neck, jogging towards you with a lazy smile on his face, his brown hair ruffled messily making him exude a certain boyish charm.

“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for-” his smile curved downwards into a frown upon noticing the mask you were wearing on your face. “You still sick?”

You nodded, “It’s weird, I feel like I’m fully recovered but felt like I should put this on just in case.”

Donghyuck and Renjun took that as a cue to proceed with their own individual conversation and leave you two to converse after Mark’s lack of an acknowledgment towards their presence.

Mark nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line like how they did whenever he was thinking. He wouldn’t say, but he knew the mask would be gone before the day ended since you never liked the feeling of it covering your face; also because he was familiar with how much you loved your reactions to be unrestricted.

“Oh, right, I remembered what I was gonna ask you. D’you mind helping with bag checks later? There are really few girl helpers here now since most of them told me they’d be showing up later,” he shot you a pleading pout.

You whined in reluctance but nodded nonetheless. “Mark, you know how much I hate that,” you put on your best glare in the hopes it would dissuade him.

Jutting out his lower lip and batting his eyelashes profusely at you in response, you were prompted to continue, “It’s always so hard to be patient with them when they’re always rolling their eyes at me and giving me attitude for confiscating their phones.”

“That’s why I’d rather you do it, ‘cause if they had a problem with you, I know you’d just give them attitude too, also because I’d make sure no one gives you any trouble if I can help it.”

You scoffed at his snickering, trying your best to ignore the way his nose scrunch tempted you to reach your hands out and pinch his cheeks. The both of you walked over to the tables they had set up for bag checks, Mark following close beside you.

“You say it like you wouldn’t do that if it was another girl helper,” you accused him with a teasing lilt in your tone, seeing Mark shrug casually yet not making any move to deny your accusation.

“Well, just that if it was you half the work would already be done for me,” he winked, making you gasp, whacking him on the arm.

“Can’t believe my best friend is making things easier for himself at the expense of my emotional state.”

Mark rolled his eyes at your dramatic sigh, a soft smile never faltering as he spoke, “oh, shut up, you know I love you.”

You couldn’t help but hear that as nothing but platonic, hoping Mark couldn't hear the hitch in your breath, shrugging as nonchalantly as you could, “of course.”

You were friends with Mark ever since he transferred schools and moved into your neighbourhood, occupying the house just directly opposite yours. All it took was a single dinner invite to his family and the two of you shared an immediate bond over a friendly dance battle on the wii console. ( Till today you'd like to remember it as a victory for you since Mark's flailing limbs didn't help him very much in moving along to Lady Gaga ).

From then on, you never felt like him being 2 years older than you prevented you from getting closer - hell, you barely even believed it - with his constant presence near you, be it in school and out of school, cheering you on at your drama performances and vice versa at his band performances and basketball games. You weren’t sure when it started being an unspoken thing that if you were somewhere, there he would be as well.

But that was never awkward till you entered your teen years, Mark's changed physique gaining him more attention from girls, whereas your beauty grew more and more each day ( well at least it did to Mark ) and there was an unspoken knowledge that the both of you knew that your feelings for each other could start to wobble over the line separating platonic and romantic, but neither of you ever brought it up. You always just brushed off Mark's habits of buying you your favourite melon milk before school or saving you a seat at his table with his group of friends as all part of his duty as your 'older brother' best friend figure.

While you were busy fumbling around to setup a table for bag checks, Mark was fumbling as well in the pantry for his vitamin drink and preparing a thermos flask full of ginger tea for you to soothe your throat. Once he’d finished, he sounded the siren on the megaphone- after many minutes of ‘oh shit’s from pressing the wrong buttons on accident -signalling for everyone to gather as he strolled to the assembly hall, the corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly at the sight of everyone already gathered and seated there upon his arrival.

“Sup- I mean uh…alright guys, thanks for being so fast in gathering," he began, silence ensuing in the hall other than the clean tapping of his shoes against the shiny wood floor, and hushed chatter from Donghyuck and Renjun, as he made his way towards where you sat in the circle, making as if wanting to seat himself next to you.

Not without an offended scoff, Renjun shifted his bum to the right to make space in between himself and you for Mark to sit down, the older boy holding the thermos flask in front of you with an expectant look.

"Ginger tea," he answered before you could even ask him what the flask contained, "make sure to finish it by lunchtime for your throat," he gave you a rather forced-looking close-lipped smile, unbeknownst to him that he was being watched by the entire service team, the only thing on his mind being to give you that and see to it that you fully recover.

"Thanks, Mark," you mumbled, grasping the flask tightly and lowering your head to avoid the stares you were receiving from the team, especially Donghyuck and Renjun who made their smugness a little too obvious.

He's just taking care of you as a little sister, you reminded yourself, desperately hoping your words would lessen the severity of the heat you felt on your cheeks.

Mark proceeded to run through the details of the camp programme, mentioning details of the day like wet games and whatnot. You would’ve remembered if you were actually paying any attention. The tip of his pink tongue would occasionally peek out to wet his lips as he spoke, his hand coming up to nudge his glasses up his nose bridge whenever he looked at his papers scattered on the floor.

You were starting to think it was a little ridiculous your heart rate could speed up watching him just sitting there, not doing anything particularly mind-blowing. Just sitting there being, well...Mark.

"Is that alright?" you snapped out of your trance when he glanced at you for approval of whatever he had been talking about for the past five minutes. You nodded mindlessly, shooting him a smile of reassurance.

"Yep, it's fine," you answered along with a few other murmurs from around the circle.

Mark sighed in relief, nodding as he stood up swiftly, clipping his pen to the string of the lanyard he’d slung across his chest.

"Campers are to be here in about fifteen minutes, everybody be on standby and mix around with your group till the time for the opening address I guess, I mean- yeah, just do that.” and just like that everyone slowly stood up in groups, dispersing around the hall. Mark held out a hand for you to take to help you off the ground just as you heard Donghyuck snort at something Renjun did, turning to you as his next target.

"Hey, Y/N. Try to get up without using your hands," your competitive nature got the better of you and you heaved yourself off the floor with just your legs, grinning proudly at Haechan, Mark’s hand withdrawing to his side quickly in the hopes no one saw what had just happened.

Mark winced as he felt Renjun slap him between the shoulder blades, his chuckle sounding all too obnoxious, "better luck next time, bro," as Mark flushed red, dismissing the blonde haired boy's teasing.

Mark huffed, not feeling bitter or anything, couldn’t help the endeared smile that appeared on his face at the way you cheered triumphantly at Donghyuck, who mussed up your hair as you simply grinned back at him, then at Mark. Mark’s breath almost hitched as you stared at him as if saying ‘did you see what I just did?’, and his smile stayed unwavering, shooting you a thumbs up because god, did he love you.

===

“Don’t you ever get tired of the pining?” Renjun prodded at Mark as the both of them made their way to the water coolers, the blonde haired boy twirling his bottle in the air with each throw.

“What?” Mark felt as if he hadn’t processed whatever Renjun had just said to him.

Renjun shot him a tired look, “Don’t act dumb, Mark. You know what I’m talking about.” Renjun was who Mark had first confided in when he realised that he had feelings for you, obviously earning a long lecture from the younger boy, who was very much insistent that Mark should do something about the way he felt before it was too late.

“Of course I do,” Mark muttered with a defeated tone, the muted whirring of the water cooler matching his sentiments.

“Then? Why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“Ever heard of fear, dude? She’s like...my best friend, I can’t just like drop a bomb like that on her, it’s too risky.”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “And hopelessly pining for her every day is a better option?”

Mark’s mouth opened in protest, holding his now filled water bottle up in protest, “It’s not hopele-“

“I heard Jaemin’s gonna ask her out.” Renjun lied, making Mark fall silent as his eyes widened, speaking for themselves. Though it arguably wasn’t the best method, Renjun knew that someone like Mark would need a push like this if he wanted Mark to take action.

Mark’s jealousy was slowly creeping in, making its authority evident in his tone as he countered with a scoff, “I’d like to see how that turns out.”

“Well, you’re not exactly ‘Johnny Bravo’ yourself, dude. You gotta up your game! C’mon, you’ve got so many chances to do that in the next 3 days, might as well use them to your advantage,” Renjun karate chopped the metal railing for emphasis as they walked up the stairs. Though he was convincing, Mark wasn’t sure if Renjun would be the angel or devil on his shoulders in this situation, but whatever it was that he was trying to do certainly was doing its job in getting Mark riled up.

Walking back into the assembly hall, Mark spotted you chatting with your group members excitedly, the mask you were wearing in the morning now no longer covering your face- which Mark would never outrightly admit he was happy about.

“Remember what I said, dude. Don’t miss your chance,” Renjun’s words lingered in Mark’s mind, meandering around every other thought that occupied his head and slowly tainting each one with possible thoughts of how he was going to tell you about how he felt. Campers were almost fully gathered in the assembly hall now, with bag checks finished and opening address not due for another ten minutes but as Mark saw you spot him across the room and start to make your way to him, he felt his heart start to race- no, sprint -in his chest, threatening to burst.

“Babe! The tea you made me was amazing, I feel even better now,” you grinned at him, his heart at a loss, not knowing it was possible to flutter so hard until he heard the pet name bubble so casually from your lips, accompanied by your heart stopping ( well, for Mark definitely ) smile. Your hands flew up to cup his face, squishing his cheeks together with a giggle, the sound itself making Mark panic, his fist clenching but his finger accidentally knocking the button on the megaphone that sounded the siren, making you shout in surprise, squishing his cheeks even harder before letting go quicker than you imagined you could.

Donghyuck and Renjun, who were watching the scene from afar were busy laughing at the fact that you had managed to fluster Mark into sounding the siren, attracting the attention from the entire hall.

“Sorry, false alarm,” he spoke into the mic, not sounding apologetic at all, more preoccupied with how to make his ears not give away how he felt. What he didn't notice was that his cheeks were already wildly pink, both from embarrassment and the blood rushing back into them after that pressure from your hands.

“Are you cold? your ears are really red,” you laughed, playing with his ears absentmindedly as your wrist rested just against his collarbone, making him shove you away quickly in a desperate attempt to put at least some distance between the both of you.

“Excuse me, facilitator, aren’t you supposed to be getting to know your group now instead of bothering the person in charge?” he told you as authoritatively as he could in his panicked state, raising an eyebrow at you to which you scoffed.

“Power has changed you, Mark Lee,” you shook your head in mock disappointment, “won’t even let your best friend talk to you now that you’re all up there,” you used your hand to gesture high above you before you coughed, wiping away fake tears from your cheeks before sticking your tongue out at him when you realised it wasn’t making him budge.

“Get,” he shooed you away before taking his place at the front of the assembly hall, fiddling with his phone before he sat there idling away, trying to stop his gaze from wandering over to where you were with your group, the sound of your loud laughter attracting his attention whether he liked it or not, but soon Mark settled for subtly scanning the room so he could let his gaze linger on your group a little while longer before he resumed scanning the room like it was part of his role.

===

You shrieked upon the feeling of cold water rushing over your head, down your face, wetting your neck and travelling down the rest of your body. Turning around rapidly, you heard the camera shutter go off with an all-too familiar voice ringing out a "Smile!" your eyes landed on the culprit which was none other than said cameraman, Mark Lee, carrying a camera in one hand and a - now empty - bucket in the other.

Letting the camera dangle from the toy story camera strap you gifted him hanging around his neck, his giggly giddy laugh echoing within the almost-empty underground carpark. Usually this would've been enough to cloud your judgement with sheer endearment for the boy, but you opted to whack him on the arm and kick his butt as punishment for getting you wet with foamy water.

"You're lucky you have that camera or I would've drowned you by now," you huffed, seeing him pucker his lips at you, shaking his butt from side to side in some sort of attempt to mock you, which you found unbearably cute instead.

“I know," he told you in a matter-of-fact tone, throwing the empty bucket aside before bringing his hand up to comb through his hair and wipe the sweat from his face with the hem of his t-shirt, which of course caused you to look away quicker than lightning. The hair that he had now pushed back messily on his head was recently dyed back to black from its previous stunt of blonde he thought would be fun to try. You had to say, as much as he was annoying you right now, how he looked in his hawaii print shorts and his white shirt was distracting you.

"Feels good to be an organizer, no getting wet and gross like you," he stuck his tongue out, making you roll your eyes in response, snatching the bucket back from where he threw it on the floor so you could hand it back to the logistics member running the particular station game you were at.

"Don't you have other people to take pictures of?" you sneered, his seagull eyebrows rising in disbelief that you sounded as if you didn't want him there so he turned around, making as if he were about to leave.

"Well sure if you don't want me here," you grabbed his shirt before he could walk any further, pulling it so he stumbled back next to you, slippers stomping noisily.

"No, wait. I’m kidding stay here don't leave me," you pleaded, flashing him your signature pout with your best attempt at sympathetic eyes, making his nose scrunch up in a smile as his hands unconsciously clenched.

"God, don't give me that face," one of the participants in your group waggled her eyebrows at you behind Mark's shoulder, making you flush and shoo her away with a flick of your hand.

"Good, isn't it? if I keep practising, you bet I can get my mom to checkout my shopping cart for Christmas in no time," you grinned, earning a good-natured shake of the head from Mark.

"It's shower time after this right?" you asked, the sludging and squeaking of your wet slippers irking you as you walked behind your group with Mark, who glanced at his watch before nodding at you.

Mark couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from his lips as he saw the way your arms would unconsciously raise as you tried to take your steps with minimal noise. “Yeah, you guys can hit the showers after this, especially you.”

You heard his stomach grumble, your gaze shooting up from the floor so you could frown at him.

“Please tell me you ate during lunch...” Mark was sheepish, laughing nervously as he shrugged, his hands fumbling around as he debated on whether to avoid the question or listen to the scolding he assumed you were about to give him.

"Well, I got a lot of reviews on the catering??" you sighed at his reply, making sure he knew how displeased you were at that fact.

"Mark,” your hands found their way to your hips, “you can't just keep forgetting things like this, I swear, no one else is gonna remind you to eat if I don't," you told him, recalling how Mark had been like this ever since high school when he started taking up more responsibilities in student council and being basketball captain and whatnot. You remembered the many lunch periods you would have to spend with him in the council room with him rushing a proposal or his homework.

"Well, at least I still have you right?" he offered with a hopeful smile, but your expression remained unwavering so he continued, "c'mon, it's my first time leading a camp; I want to do a good job."

You looked at him in understanding, resigning to the fact that Mark wouldn't back down so easily since he wanted to work hard. "Alright, fine. But I’m still gonna hound you about necessities whether you like it or not, mister," he seemed to have no objections to that, simply choosing to nod at you as if it was something he wanted.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he picked up his megaphone and held it away from you, pushing the button- successfully, for once -to signal the siren for the facilitators to dismiss their groups for shower time.

After you were showered and in a fresh pair of clothing, you brought your things down to the canteen for dinner. It wasn't surprising that you already saw Mark waiting in the canteen, though he was looking rather rigid while talking to Jaemin, which you were curious about since you knew them to be quite comfortable with each other. Walking past them, you caught Jaemin’s eye, making him halt his conversation with Mark to wave at you with a smile, yet Mark seemed to be glaring at Jaemin the entire time.

Gathering your group of kids to get their food, you made your way to the drink dispenser, doing your best to carry multiple cups at once so you wouldn't have to make a second trip back.

"Here, lemme help you with that," Mark showed up in front of you, obstructing your path as he proceeded to take half the cups from you, earning more than a few unnoticed stares from the campers who absolutely adored the idea of you and Mark actually dating.

"Thanks," you murmured, the tip of your tongue peeking out from your lips in concentration so you wouldn't spill your drinks.

"How's the food?" he asked you.

"Haven't eaten it yet, but smells great," his eyes crinkled in a bright smile at your reply.

"Really? That's great," he sighed in relief.

After placing the drinks on your group's table he sat at one of the empty seats and spoke with you for a while as your campers slowly came back one by one. You missed the suspicious stares your campers were giving you at Mark's presence at the table. He had a hand resting on the back of your chair casually, an almost identical scene from when you had to make sure Mark ate while he buried himself in student council work.

The two of you shared food from one plate since Mark had helped take enough for the both of you, not getting a separate one for himself because he was lazy. You know, totally not because he just wanted an excuse for you to feed him while he pretended to be busy skimming through the agenda for the rest of the day.

"Do you have to leave soon for prep?" you asked him, seeing an look of realisation wash over his face, nodding at you when he glanced at the time.

Letting out a breathy sigh, he stood up, megaphone in one hand while picking up your now empty plastic plate and cutlery to help you dispose of it.

"See you later, dude," you waved sadly, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he let out his signature nose scrunch and giggle before his lips jut out in a pout, waving goodbye as he left.

Considering the fact that for the rest of the day you were busy with your group and Mark was busy making sure everything was in order, the both of you didn’t manage to find the time to stop and talk to each other when you even simply crossed paths in the hallways, settling for a playful poke in his side or a nod of the head from him as a greeting.

Thankfully, just as your back had started to hurt and your eyes started to feel heavy, it was time for the night debrief. You walked into the room, glad to see Mark had saved a space for you and was waving you over to come sit with him, beckoning you over while patting the empty space next to him.

"Hey," he greeted you with a smile, his nose scrunching when you knocked over the hood of his jacket to ruffle his hair.

"Glad that one day is almost done with," your words were slightly muffled as you yawned, seeing him shoot you a look of agreement and nod with a sigh.

"I know, right? Hope none of the committee make noise tonight, I’m really hoping I can sleep as soon as possible," he admitted, pressing his lips into a firm line as he glanced at the things he was supposed to discuss during the debrief.

You wanted to get something to munch on to keep you awake during the debrief, looking around the room as if scanning to see if any members of the service team were in possession of food, and it was as if Mark could read your mind when he took out a pack of cookies from his jacket pocket, passing it to you ever so subtly.

“Thanks, dude,” you heard Donghyuck’s voice interrupt when he reached over to take the packet from your hands, bursting it open and munching on one, much to the dismay of Mark, though he didn’t say anything, simply smiling and returning to his papers when you flicked Donghyuck on the forehead and reclaimed your cookies.

Debrief went by fairly quickly, with Mark running through the points he needed to take note of as quickly as he could. You were already feeling a little restless after finishing your cookies so you leant your head against Renjun’s shoulder since he was sitting closest to you in the circle, earning a soft chuckle from him, “Careful now, your boyfriend might get jealous,” he teased.

Harshly whispering back, “what boyfriend,” you huffed, rolling your eyes.

When debrief had ended, you were feeling really tired so after washing up and changing into your sleeping clothes you were happy to have found Mark already waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm to walk with you to the communal sleeping area.

“You’re not sleeping yet?” you asked, already yawning. Mark shook his head with a yawn himself, “still gotta finalise some stuff for tomorrow’s program.”

You frowned, waiting obediently as he had already helped the both of you take a mattress each and lay it at the side facing each other since there wasn’t much space left in the room.

Squatting next to your mattress and laying out your sleeping bag, you voiced out as softly but firmly as you could, “why couldn't they have told you earlier? It's not fair that you have to stay up doing work for them while they’re all happily asleep," you felt a tinge of annoyance at the unfairness of it all but Mark simply ruffled your hair good-naturedly, assuring you it was okay, all the while his face was heating up from his heart fluttering at your concern for him.

Once you were tucked into your sleeping bag you glanced up at Mark who was still sitting with one knee tucked under his chin, his face illuminated by the light from his phone. As if feeling your stare on him, he glanced from his phone to you, placing his phone down to give his attention to you.

“Go to sleep, you’ve got a long day tomorrow,” his voice was barely a murmur, fatigue laced in his tone.

“You should be sleeping too, you know. It’s not as if we go through different camps..”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, whispering back trying to reassure you, “I know, I will. Don’t worry about me and get some sleep, alright?”

Rolling over in your sleeping bag, you stared Mark down as hard as you could, “no. I refuse. For as long as you’re awake, I’m not gonna sleep,’ you huffed.

Mark knew that your claim was far- fetched, seeing as he could tell you were tired, with how your head would lull to the side ever so often and your breathing would even out before you would jolt awake suddenly, remembering your promise to stay awake.

But true enough, he wasn’t even 2 pages into his documents when he heard the light thud of your head hitting the mattress, your breaths slowing down and becoming deeper. Seeing as you didn’t bring a pillow to the camp, Mark figured he could do without his jacket since he probably wasn’t getting much sleep tonight anyway, folding his jacket carefully into a nice rectangle, one hand lifting your head gently to slide the jacket underneath so your head could rest gently on it.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, tugging your sleeping bag up to cover you more before he resumed browsing his documents.

===

The next morning, during the briefing in the morning, one of the members leading the service team had decided to add morning exercises to get everybody’s energy up, part of this including stretches.

You were a little hesitant to do the stretches since you realized your shirt would ride up a little when you had to do certain stretches, but you tried your best. Mark was a little late, walking in and not being able to help the laugh from slipping out of his mouth when he saw you struggling to do the stretches, but he couldn’t stay entertained when he saw one of the older guys from the service team checking you out while you were doing the stretches.

His best solution he could think of in the moment was to shed himself of his jacket and wordlessly walk over to tie it around your waist, successfully covering you adequately and making you a lot more comfortable, as evident in how you could freely stretch without fear of exposing too much you weren’t comfortable with.

Your cheeks flushed, not expecting Mark to swoop in with such a gesture that you obviously weren’t prepared for so early in the morning.

“Sleep well?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep, joining the stretches smoothly and you had to keep your gaze focused forward so you wouldn’t lose concentration.

“Yeah, you?” he nodded.

“What’s for breakfast, organizer?” you grinned.

“Cereal, dummy. You were the one that bought it, remember?” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation.

“Oh, right,” you laughed.

The rest of the day went by fairly fast, the highlight of it being that Donghyuck wouldn’t shut up about how flustered Mark was when he was caught off guard during your session you were giving, when he was too busy admiring you and not paying much attention to what you were saying. “He was totally drooling! Renjun can vouch for it,”


“Renjun is not a reliable source, if anything, Mark was just tired, and zoning out. That’s all.”

You could practically hear Donghyuck rolling his eyes at you. “Listen to me, I’m just saying. I’ve known Mark longer than you have, and if anything, the last time I saw him act like this was... basically never, because Mark’s never cared about someone other than his family as much before.”

“Yeah, you said it, family. That’s what he sees me as, hyuck.”

“Yeah, his wife!” you choked on your fruit punch, pushing your dinner further from you on the table since you were done with it. “I mean, everyone can see it, might as well make it clear to the both of you before I have to resort to bringing you both together myself.”

“I love you too, hyuck,” he made a face of dismay, mocking you as he repeated what you had said.

“Also, does Mark have beef with Jaemin? He’s been acting really weird around him,” you voiced out, having noticed it yesterday during lunch.

Donghyuck laughed a little too loud, shaking his head vigorously, “Mark’s just weird,” he continued, voice dropping to a mutter, “I don’t know why you like him, he’s an idiot. But you know, I’m not here to judge, you do you.”

“Get out,” laughing, you shoved him off his chair, and his high pitched giggle rang out like bubbles.

Mark couldn't help the way his eyes searched the room for you whenever he stepped in, landing on you and Donghyuck when he heard the younger boy's laughter ringing in the distance.

"I bet if Y/N usually wore stripes you'd be really good at where's waldo," Renjun snickered at Mark's resemblance to a lovestruck-puppy as he looked at you and Donghyuck every five seconds while he ate.

Mark's head shot up at the sound of Renjun's comment, glaring at the boy seated in front of him.

"Whatever," he murmured, cheeks hollowing because of the way he pursed his lips, chewing aggressively on the food in his mouth as he saw Jaemin approaching you and Donghyuck to join the conversation.

"He's totally not her type anyway," he justified to no one in particular, earning a rather intense eye roll from Renjun.

“Does saying that make you feel like you have a better chance than Jaemin? It's not as if u can just… telekinesisJaemin away from her, you might as well man up and do something about it yourself if you wanna guarantee that he won’t get in the middle of whatever you two have going on,” Renjun sighed, shrugging as if he hadn't just had an encouraging best friend moment, leaving Mark wondering how Renjun could still manage looking so innocent sipping his orange juice.

Mark didn’t even notice when you had left the canteen with one of the participants from Jeno and Chenle’s group that wasn’t feeling well, leading him up to the toilet as quickly as you could because he needed to throw up.

The boy had mentioned that he had a history of bad health, and he wasn’t feeling well enough to stand on his own, so you figured it would be best if you could follow him to the toilet to make sure he wouldn’t faint. After many minutes of retching and coughing, the boy was starting to feel a little better and you let him wash his mouth before moving to lead him out of the toilet, only to come face to face with some of Mark’s fellow committee members- who you didn’t remember the names of, but you weren’t very fond of them anyway.

“What are you doing with this kid? Did you know that we’ve had to spend the last 15 minutes looking for you while you were doing God knows what in the male toilet?” one girl with a sleek ponytail had snapped, her voice sharp and cutting.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confusion taking over you, “hey, you should go join the rest now, tell Jeno and Chenle I’ll join them later.”

Turning your gaze to the committee members after you had seen the boy disappear around the corner, you continued, “I’m sorry, I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea. He wasn’t feeling well and I saw that Jeno and Chenle were busy so I took him to the toilet myself, that’s all that happened...”

“You couldn’t have asked another male facilitator, could you? Or were you just so eager to bring him to the male toilets yourself. You know, it’s hard to believe what you’re telling us, Y/N. I mean, we don’t necessarily have the bestimpression of you,” another one of the group had spoken up, and a strange feeling bubbled within your chest. You barely even knew any of these people, yet they seemed to have so much to say to you.

“This is a church camp...” you murmured, flinching slightly at how quick they were to bite back at you with an answer.

“Yeah, a church camp where this situation would have required a male facilitator to follow the participant, not you. Wonder what Mark would think if he saw you in the male toilets with a participant, whom, you know, is younger than you,” the ponytail girl had hummed, making you scoff.

“Mark knows I wouldn’t do that,” you spoke up, trying to make your voice as firm as possible.

“Yeah, but does everyone else know?” you were at a loss, your fists clenching and unclenching as you tried to find the right words to say to them, however they seemed to have beaten you to it.

“What’s your aim, huh? Are you mad because they made us in charge and not you? Did you think that you would’ve been chosen as well just because you’re close to Mark?” one of the guys had added, folding his arms and taking a step closer to you, his height practically towering over you. “You know, he’s not even doing that great of a job, for that matter-”

“Don’t you dare talk about Mark like that,” you frowned, though their laughter only served to make you feel even smaller in their presence. “Oh? Are we not allowed to? I mean, it’s the truth after all. The dumbass doesn’t even know we’ve just been making him do all our work for us,” she shrugged nonchalantly, making your frown grow even deeper.

“Is that how you make him go to your beck and call too? hmm?”

“My relationship with Mark isn’t like that...” you started, though you couldn’t seem to know what to say after that, which of course, gave them the perfect opportunity to mock you once again.

“Really, now?” the ponytail girl had leaned closer to you, the sarcasm in her tone making your eyes roll. “Then what is it like? like you and that kid you fooled around with?”

You held yourself back, not wanting to tear up from their words but not being able to help your frustration.

“I did not fool around with him. He was sick and I brought him to the washroom,” your voice trembled with the sheer amount of anger you were feeling.

“Sure, whatever, Y/N. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” They left before you could say anything else, leaving you dumbfounded as you made your way back to the hall for the next session.

===

It was no surprise that Donghyuck found your behavior suspicious when you returned to the hall, and though you acted as per normal through the session, when Mark had dismissed everyone for an hour of free time before dinner, he’d taken the opportunity to sit you down and squeeze whatever gossip material he could get out of you.

“What happened during lunch? You left with Jisung, right?”

You nodded, picking up the crumbs of bread that had fallen on your pants and tossing them elsewhere, “yeah, he needed to puke and Jeno and Chenle were busy serving food.”

A silence fell between the both of you as Donghyuck continued to look at you expectantly, “Yeah, and?” he prompted with a ‘duh’ tone.

“What do you mean, ‘and’? that’s it.”

“Cut the bullshit, dude. Jeno and Chenle told me Jisung came back without you, said the committee were giving you shit.”

You sighed, finishing the last bite of your bread and gesturing to Donghyuck to hand you your water-bottle, taking your time to sip your water- and pluck up your courage -before you decided to continue, “they were just talking shit, as usual. No big deal.”

“What did they say to you?” he prodded again, making you shoot him a look.

“You’re not gonna stop till I tell you everything, aren’t you?” he nodded with a sickening smile, batting his eyes at you expectantly.

“I don’t know...you know, like....they started saying I brought Jisung into the cubicle with me on purpose or something-”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion “Huh? To do what?”

“I don’t know!” your tone was exasperated, glad that Donghyuck felt the situation was just as absurd as you thought it was. “Whatever it is it clearly wasn’t what I was really helping Jisung out with!” you huffed.

“They said it as if I was fooling around with him or something...then they were saying shit like, like I don’t know they make Mark do all their work for them? And they asked me if I manipulated him that way to get him to do things for me as well and when I said that wasn’t the kind of relationship I had with Mark they were like ‘oh so you do the same things with Mark that you did with Jisung’? and I don’t know hyuck it was just really horrible and I felt like shit and I wanted to cry because I was so embarrassed but it was like I couldn’t even talk!” you gasped, practically panting after telling Donghyuck what had happened at one go.

Donghyuck paused, letting a silence fall between you for a while before letting out a scoff, and a rather exaggerated one at that, “aren’t you pissed? I’m super pissed and it didn’t even happen to me!”

You pouted at the floor before frowning at Donghyuck exasperatedly, “you know that there’s nothing I can do about it now. And as a matter of fact there’s nothing I want to do about it now. It’s over, Jisung is okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“You know that’s not it, Y/N.” In all your time of knowing Donghyuck, you would have to say that this was the most serious you’ve ever seen him act ( well, aside from when he’s playing video games with Jeno or Renjun ).

“Well, what do you suppose I do about it, genius?” you shot back, downing a big gulp of water to soothe your still slightly hoarse throat.

“I think you should tell Mark,” he told you as if it was the best idea in the entire world, earning a violent shake of the head from yourself.

“No way in hell- I mean, heck, that Mark is gonna know about this. Hyuck, I’m serious,” you put a hand on his knee that was on the bench to steady yourself.

“Mark already has so much on his plate, I can’t afford to have him worrying about even more things, especially not if it concerns me.” You could see that Donghyuck was thinking hard about this, the pout on his lips seeming to deepen as he glanced elsewhere with his eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes squinting the more deep in thought he got.

“I know! What if it wasn’t about you! I can just tell him the committee were giving somebody shit-“

“Donghyuck, are you hearing yourself right now? You’d have to mention me eventually if you went with that plan. Scrap that plan, go with my plan. Which is to just not tell Mark at all,” you grinned at him, holding two thumbs up in an attempt to be more convincing, earning yourself a very slow and accentuated eye roll from Donghyuck.

“Hyuck, I mean it. I know you’re gonna wanna do something to get back at them but believe me when I say I reallydon’t want this to be made into a big deal.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You have such little faith in me.”

You heard the sound of the megaphone’s siren signalling that it was dinnertime, so you said goodbye to Donghyuck and joined your own group to eat dinner.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, was busy gathering him and Mark’s group of friends to, if put in Donghyuck’s words- “spill the tea.”

Jaemin, Chenle, Renjun and Jeno were currently surrounding Donghyuck at one of the stone tables in the church that Donghyuck figured would make his announcement more professional, “okay, boys, first order of business. Let me tell you what happened to Y/N just now after she helped Jisung puke and whatever,” Jeno and Chenle shared what seemed to be a knowing look whereas Renjun and Jaemin just looked confused.

“Something happened?” Renjun spoke up, earning an equally confused sound from Jaemin, to which Donghyuck nodded gravely, proceeding to tell them exactly what you had told him prior to dinner time.

“I knew it!” Chenle shouted, standing up in his excitement before being shushed and shoved back into his seat by Jaemin and Renjun.

“I knew something was up when I was having touch time with Jisung just now, he said that the committee were saying things that ‘weren’t so nice’ to her but he couldn’t exactly remember what it was,” Jeno explained on Chenle’s behalf since the latter was too busy enjoying the fact that he was right about his suspicions against the committee.

“And she just stood there and took all of that?” Jaemnin asked, concern laced in his tone, glancing at a pissed-looking Renjun mid-speech.

“Well, she did say she was so humiliated and I doubt she could’ve gotten anything else in with all of those psychos ganging up on her,” Donghyuck shrugged, “which is why I say we should do something about it! Avenge our dear sister whom Mark just so happens to be in love with!” Donghyuck pumped his fist in the air, earning a sound of agreement from Jeno and Chenle, but he felt opposition the moment he glanced at Renjun and Jaemin’s concerned expression.

“I don’t know, hyuck. I mean she did say she didn’t want it to be a big deal...” Jaemin started.

Chenle jumping in quickly to add, “Unless we just tell Mark?”

“But that’s exactly what she didn’t want us to do!” Jaemin shushed Chenle again, who simply shrugged in defeat, “well that’s the limit of my ideas, man,” Chenle shrugged.

“I think we should tell Mark,” Renjun piped up, to which Jaemin asked, “wait are you on our team or against us?”

“Nobody’s against anybody here!” Donghyuck sighed, desperately wanting to facepalm, thinking again to himself why he thought telling them would be a good idea.

“The only people we should be against are those stupid committee members.”

“Wait who are they again?” Jeno asked, earning a loud groan from Jaemin.

Eventually, their discussion drifted elsewhere after someone had mentioned the brownies being served for dessert, leaving Renjun to be the only one silently thinking of how to approach Mark to break the news to him before it was time for debrief since the group of them couldn’t decide on things for shit.

===

“Dude I need to talk to you,” Renjun closed the door to the empty committee room that Mark was currently in, since after the groups were done sharing they would have to be dismissed to go to sleep and it would already be time for debrief.

“Uh-huh,” Mark barely glanced away from his notes he’d taken in the day, earning a tired look from Renjun.

“Dude I’m serious, I need to talk to you it’s about Y/N.”

“Huh?” Mark finally tore his gaze from his papers, before shaking his head and returning his glare to them again, saying, “Renjun, I’m really sorry but can this wait? I really need to make sure  got everything down here, the priest is gonna be there at the debrief later and if I screw this up it’s gonna look really bad on me as the person in charge.”

Raising his hands in an action of surrender, “Ok, fine man, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

===

When you got to the room where the debrief was going to be held, you avoided the smug looks on the committee members’ faces as they whispered amongst themselves and pointed at you not-so-subtly as you made your way next to where Mark was seated.

“Hey,” you chirped, seeing his head tilt up to look at you, a smile on his face when he realized it was you.

“Hey,” he greeted.

You chose not to distract him since he seemed to be rather focused on his notes, making you feel a little upset at how he was over here stressing out about the agenda for the debrief while the other committee members were lounging on the table idling away.

Thankfully, Mark had started the debrief a little early today, with the reasoning that he understood everyone would like to go to sleep as soon as possible after the long day you had today. Running through the list of things to cover quickly, what was next was when Mark would routinely ask if any participants were not feeling well and he would proceed to check back with the groups on those participants whose sicknesses were already reported to him.

“Group 7?” Mark asked, and you knew this was Jisung’s group, so you were expecting Mark to ask about Jisung but Chenle and Jeno’s statement caught you off guard.

“Jisung was actually feeling really bad around lunchtime? Chenle and I were busy serving food so he was accompanied by Y/N instead, since it was pretty urgent and he’d puked up a lot according to him,” Chenle made a disgusted face at Jeno’s words.

“He’s still feeling a little queasy but we gave him some medicine before we sent him to bed. HIs mom says he has a really sensitive stomach but he claims after he puked he felt a little better. But thankfully since Y/N was there it really helped him- and us -loads.” Chenle nodded, flashing you an appreciative smile as Jeno awaited Mark’s reaction.

Mark’s expression darkened, turning to the committee members who were behind him to ask, “why was I not notified that we had a participant that threw up and was under medication?” the ponytail haired girl suddenly seemed as though she had a lot less to say compared to when she was outside the washroom with you earlier.

“Well, you know....uh, well, we assumed since Y/N was the one who was so eagerly helping Jisung, she would’ve told you about the situation,” she shrugged, her gaze pointed at you.

Mark turned to you momentarily before narrowing his eyes at the committee once again, “so you were aware that this was happening and none of you decided to double check if I was notified about this?”

One of the taller guy members sitting next to the ponytail haired girl had spoken up, “well since Y/N-”

“Whether or not she was involved is not the main concern here. Her responsibilities do not include doing the work that is meant to be done by the group of you.”

You looked at Donghyuck with a panicked expression, seeing his lips pressed together in an attempt not to laugh amidst the tense atmosphere that had fallen throughout the room.

“What the heck is going on?” you mouthed to Renjun since Donghyuck didn’t seem to be able to be of any help right now, seeing Renjun shrug, pointing at Mark before using both his index fingers to make angry eyebrows on his face.

Mark lowered his voice so he could direct his words more specifically to the committee members, “I don’t know what you take your responsibilities in this camp to be, but clearly you’re not taking them seriously enough, not with you thinking I’m actually stupid enough to not realize you’ve been asking me to do extra work since you’re all seemingly incapable of doing it, and to add on to that you think that even non committee should be taking care of and receiving blame for your faults?” Mark’s voice raised slightly before he remembered the presence of the priest in the room, which served to remind him to keep his calm a little.

Mark turned back around to face the rest of the team, “Any other issues you would like to raise? if not there’s no further things we need to discuss on the agenda, you guys are dismissed. Committee please stay behind.” Mark’s aura was a lot more intimidating than you’d seen him in a while, and you understood why since you knew this was his first time being in charge of a camp and he wanted to do a good job and prove himself, but it seemed like things weren’t going as planned.

You decided it was better to leave him to do his own thing now before he could get more triggered, leaving the room after giving him a gentle squeeze of his arm.

Renjun had met Mark downstairs in the canteen after most of the service team members had gone to sleep. He felt a little pity for the older boy, seeing how his eyes had dark circles under them, his hair was messy now probably after many times of frustratedly running his hands through it, and he looked absolutely ready to pass out.

“So...debrief, huh,” Renjun let out a low whistle.

“I know, it was a mess. I can’t believe I could let that happen-“

“Did they tell you what happened?”

Mark’s eyes narrowed at Renjun, taking a seat at the bench in the open air, enjoying the cool wind of the night time that served to comfort him just a little in the midst of him feeling like absolute shit. “You mean you’re telling me there’s more that happened?” Mark’s voice was tired, sounding as if nothing would surprise him any more than he already was.

“The committee, they basically attacked - well, verbally attacked -Y/N when they saw her coming out of the male toilets with Jisung.”

Mark frowned, already getting riled up at the thought of what kind of things they could have said to you.

“They were talking to her as if she’d brought Jisung to the toilet to do....things with him, and they sort of told her that you weren’t doing that great of a job as someone in charge and asked her if she manipulated you into being at her ‘beck and call’ too…and- I don’t know there was a lot of things. They sort of put her on the spot,” Mark fell silent, the only thing he could liken his emotions to was a washing machine with his anger just busily rolling around in his mind and heart.

“Okay before you get mad, or more mad actually, the rest of the gang and I were saying that we wanted to respect her decision of not wanting to make this a big deal-”

“Wait so the rest of the guys know what happened already? I’m the last one to know?”

Renjun sucked in a sharp breath, “well....yeah,”

Mark ran his fingers through his hair for what must’ve been the hundredth time that night, “What the hell...why didn’t she tell me?”

“I mean-” Mark stood up suddenly, shocking Renjun. Mark fiddled with his phone, quickly thumbing out a message to ask you where you were.

12:18am -huh, why? i was just about to go to the sleeping area-

Mark 12:18 am -wait for me at the door-

Mark pocketed his phone quickly, “sorry, man, I gotta go.”

“Okay, fine, just totally abandon your friend who just gave you important information. It’s fine with me,” Renjun threw his hands up in exaggerated offence.

Mark was anticipating some sort of dramatic confrontation to happen when he reached the door but when he actually saw you in front of him, he’d felt as though he’d lost all the words he wanted to say.

You were relatively quiet since you weren’t sure how Mark was feeling, but you let him do the usual and bring mattresses for the both of you to lay it on the stage.

Since you were already tired beyond belief from the events that happened during the day, you didn’t refuse this time to lay in your sleeping bag and get ready to sleep, hearing Mark mumble something next to you, making you turn your head to face him, a small hum escaping your lips.

“What happened this afternoon?” he asked you, his voice clear enough that you wouldn’t have mistaken him to be saying something else. Though at this time of the night, you were desperate to give him answers to his questions so you could go to sleep, simply choosing to tell him what you thought he was asking you.

“Jisung wasn’t feeling well, he said he felt like throwing up so I brought him to the toilet.”

You heard a silence from him, assuming he was finished with his questions, “I’m gonna sleep no-”

“I asked about you, not about Jisung.”

You were too tired to realize the annoyance in his tone, turning to face him, eyebrows furrowing, “me? Nothing happened to be I mean yeah sure seeing him puke kind of made me want to puke but-”

“God, why the f-“ he stopped himself, looking at you before letting out a shaky breath, “when will you just put yourself first for once,” he turned around in his sleeping bag so his back was facing you.

“Mark,” you whispered, hoping he would turn around.

“Mark,” you murmured again, “Mark. Turn around, what are you trying to say?” you reached out a hand to shake him gently on the shoulder, feeling him grip your hand tightly, peeling it off his shoulder.

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

===

The next morning you weren’t surprised to have woken up and found that Mark wasn’t next to you, and you hated the looks of confusion Donghyuck was giving you as to why you weren’t talking to Mark that morning. Making your way downstairs with Jaemin to have breakfast, you chose not to bother Mark more since he obviously seemed annoyed with you for some reason.

“Are you feeling better?....you know, after yesterday?” Jaemin asked, concern laced in his tone.

You shrugged, “If I were being honest....I feel even worse. I thought it would be okay, you know, after it got brought up during the debrief but..” you shrugged, trailing off as you collected your breakfast from the servers, waiting for Jaemin to collect his drink. “But I don’t know, Mark said something to me last night and he sounded pretty annoyed at me and it just made me feel...like shit I guess,” you shrugged again.

Leading you to the table where Donghyuck and Chenle were sat at, you’d joined them for breakfast, Jaemin successfully cheering you up after you’d seen Mark come into the canteen and leave with Renjun shortly after, not even remembering to take his breakfast with him, yet something in you knew you couldn’t exactly tell him to eat his breakfast now.

“Dude what’s wrong with you? I thought you would’ve worked things out with her by now?” Renjun waved his hands frantically in front of a zoned-out Mark’s face.

“Huh?”

“Why, are you, so awkward, with her?” Renjun said slowly, pausing between the sentence to break down each word for Mark with a sarcastic tone.

Mark made a disgruntled sound in response. “I just need to calm down first, okay? Everytime I see her I just think of what happened and why she didn’t wanna tell me. If I confronted her about it now what would I even say?” Mark frowned, “oh yeah I’m in love with you lol haha ttyl? It’s not that simple, Renjun.”

Renjun’s mouth dropped open, poorly stifling his laugh at whatever you could call what Mark just did.

“Mark... you know I love you but...but if she still loves you after that kind of confession, that’s how you know it’s real love.”

Mark whined, “shut up, Renjun.”

“Where is she anyway?” Mark did his best to sound nonchalant but it was hard to act nonchalant when you seemed to be completely fine at your table playing games with the guys and being so close to Jaemin, and no, Mark didn’t care if the game required you to cross hands with the person next to you because to Mark any contact with Jaemin was just automatically deemed unnecessary.

Mark saw you jump away from Jaemin and look and his direction, not even realizing why until Renjun took the megaphone out of his hand.

“What are you doing!” Renjun clicked a button on the megaphone to stop the siren, talking into it, “sorry guys false alarm.”

Shoving the megaphone back into Mark’s chest, a muffled grunt sounding from Mark, Renjun shook his head in disappoinment, “times like this I really need to remind myself why I’m your friend.”

===

Later on in that day, the committee had separated everyone into different groups to carry out the clean-up for the respective areas, and your assigned area was the carpark, which meant you were busy lugging around heavy buckets of water around the carpark in an attempt to clean it without slipping on the water and falling.

Your pants were rolled up to your knees and you were struggling to carry up a bucket to the second floor of the basement with Chenle because the more he laughed the more the water tended to spill over to your side of the bucket. Once you had set the bucket down, you thought you could finally take a break but you heard Jeno calling you over to where he was.

“Y/N, can you please go to the canteen to help shift the stuff upstairs?”

You hesitated, since your feet and slippers were already so wet, shifting the things upstairs in your condition now was just going to be a pain in the ass that you didn’t really want to deal with right now.

“Please, please please, I’m really busy right now, I’ll buy you a drink when we’re done or something,” he clasped his hands in front of him in a begging action.

Your eyes widened in interest, “I get to decide what drink it is?”

“Yeah sure of course!” You grinned in response, running ( or trying your best to with your wet slippers ) up the stairs to the canteen, looking around to see who you were supposed to help until you saw Mark, the instinctive urge to pick flight instead of fight taking over you.

You decided there was no going back now since you did want that free drink after all, so you made your way over to where Mark was, seeing his eyes widen at the sight of you there instead of Jeno.

“What are you doing here? I called Jeno.”

“Oh, uh...he was busy with stuff so he told me to come up to help instead,” you told Mark, not missing the way he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, bringing a hand up to grasp the back of his neck.

“Do you want me to leave? I can like call someone else to come here instead-”

“Yeah,” he breathed, your eyes widening in response. “Wait!, I mean, no! I mean, like- Jeno, no wait, you-” he stopped himself, taking a deep breath in and out, facing you with a serious expression.

“Don’t leave. Just help me shift this stuff upstairs.” He handed you two boxes stacked on top of each other. Not wanting to get in his way, you decided to turn to walk the other way up the stairs but you seemed to have turned too sharply, the smooth surface of the floor and the water on your slipper causing you to trip, landing roughly on the floor, boxes scattered elsewhere as the only thing you could focus on was the sharp pain that shot through your ankle.

Mark had immediately put down whatever he was holding, shocked sounds escaping him at an uncontrollable rate as he made his way to your side, asking you if you were okay, his eyes scanning your limbs rapidly to see if you had injured yourself.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, whatever’s in those boxes must be broken because of me-“

“Even now you’re still thinking of the boxes?” he gave you a displeased look.

“Huh?” you frowned.

“I mean, whatever was in the boxes was probably really important....”

He shot you a look, “so are you, you know....you’re like....” he looked away, “important...and stuff.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that threatened to bubble from your throat, “oh my God, please shut up and get me off the floor before you continue.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Mark asked, making you snort in reply.

“Yeah, my heart.”

“Huh?”

“My leg, Mark. My ankle really hurts,” you pointed at your ankle, letting him hobble you over to the nearest bench you could find, awkwardly trying to point your gaze elsewhere when he knelt down in front of you and took off your slipper, “oh my-Mark don’t, that’s gross! Please, my feet are wet!”

“Shut up, can you just-“ he shot you a look, “let me do this, I know what I’m doing. This happened to the basketball guys all the time.”

You nodded slowly, still trying to avoid looking at him in fear that you’d get even more shy than you were now.

“That was like a metaphor, you know, in case you didn’t get it.”

“Mark, I didn’t take literature,” you added pointedly, earning an eye roll from him, choosing to press particularly hard on your ankle at that point.

“Sorry if I...you know, annoyed you last night or something,” you muttered, finally making eye contact with him when he looked up at you with an unreadable expression.

“No, I sort of was being a dick to you last night... I was just kind of...stressed I guess,” he shrugged, continuing to massage at your feet.

“Look, Mark. You obviously know about everything that happened yesterday afternoon right?” he looked up to nod at you, “and you can say that you weren’t the least bit worried?”

He let out a scoff, “What? Of course I was worried! I was so pissed off-”

“Mark that’s precisely why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place! I knew that you had a lot going on and a lot that you needed to take care of, and worrying about me was the last thing I wanted to add to your list of things to do,” you told him, seeing his ears start to tint red.

“Yeah but how do you think it feels for the girl I like to leave me out of things like this?” he asked you, a challenging tone laced in his voice.

“Wait, you like me?” you asked.

Mark’s eyes widened, “shit, wait...that was not how I planned to tell you.”

He let go of your leg, standing up and taking a seat next to you, turning his body to face you. “Okay, rewind. Pretend I didn’t say that,” you nodded at him, trying your best to stifle your laugh but you could feel yourself grinning widely at him.

“I like....wait, do you have a thing with Jaemin?” He narrowed his eyes at you, using his index finger and middle finger to cross each other.

You burst out laughing at that, especially because Mark’s sincere pout made it even funnier, “no, of course not. Who even told you that?”

Mark let out an annoyed groan, “not important, anyway. As I was saying, I didn’t wanna tell you because I didn’t want to impose anything on you, not with the whole possible Jaemin situation anyway. Also because...you know.....secret boy stuff.”

“Secret boy stuff?” you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I was scared, okay?” he glanced up nervously at you before looking down at his interlocked fingers and continuing, “I thought...it’d be weird for us to keep being friends if you didn’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want things to just end like that, you know?”

You nodded slowly, “I get it, you and your secret boy stuff,” you smiled, reaching out a hand to pat him on the head.

“I guess I only realized how much I actually...oh my god this is so embarrassing to say but...I only realized how much I liked you when I heard what those committee members said to you. And I just, kind of, felt really horrible because of how I was just over here acting like I was having the hardest time when you were too.”

“You weren’t acting, Mark.”

He contemplated mentioning to you how he sometimes pretended to be busy with work so you would give him attention but decided against it, lest you stopped doing that.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better…I like you too, you know,” you told him, enjoying the way his eyes widened, his gaze immediately flitting elsewhere from being too shy to keep your gaze.

This time it was Mark’s turn to laugh, shaking his head as a soft smile found its way onto his features, “we’re kind of stupid, aren’t we?”

You looked at him, not being able to resist smiling at the sight of him, “very,” you nodded your head.

===

The last day of the camp brought the usual, photo taking, bag packing, you and Jeno bringing the leftover snacks from the camp home for yourselves. Everything seemed as if it was just like any other camp, but Mark was insistent on finding every opportunity to remind you he was dating you now.

“Here, let me carry your bag,” he offered as you were walking down the stairs to the front entrance of your church, saying goodbye to the campers that walked past the both of you to leave.

“Mark, just put it on the floor we’re not even leaving yet.”

Donghyuck snickered at your comment, holding out his bag in front of Mark, “I’ll gladly let you carry mine.”

“You guys need a lift? My mom’s sending me home,” Chenle jogged over to you guys, earning murmurs of ‘no’s and ‘its okay’s except for the ‘yes please’ that Renjun squeaked out, practically wobbling under the weight of his duffel bag.

“My mom can send you back, unless you’re coming over to my place?” Mark told you, or more like asked you.

You hummed, “I don’t know, I kind of feel like going home and taking a good shower, maybe I’ll come over after that?”

Mark grinned, nodding in approval.

“You guys haven’t gotten enough of each other yet? I’ve seen enough of Jaemin to last me 5 years,” Renjun shot you and Mark a disgusted look.

You were caught off guard when Mark slung his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer rather abruptly, squishing your face against him “never,” he said confidently.

Gagging sounds resounded around the group, Donghyuck letting out a pained groan, “I kind of miss when they weren’t aware of each other’s feelings now,” he cringed, earning a high five from Renjun.

“I think it’s kind of cute,” Chenle piped up, earning a handshake from Mark, “thanks for the support, man.”

Jaemin burst out laughing, “Chenle’s opinion doesn’t count he thinks everything is cute.”

You saw Mark’s mom’s car drive into the church, nudging Mark gently, “hey, your mom is here.”

After saying goodbye to the guys you got into the car, not missing the knowing look Mark’s mom was giving Mark but choosing not to say anything about it.

“Y/N’s coming over later, mom, so you can cook more for dinner.”

“uh-huh, alright,” she smiled. She’d already heard from Donghyuck about what happened that very morning when she met him in the church so she wasn’t surprised in the least, especially when she heard from Donghyuck about how Mark was so shy he had to stop to giggle first before asking if he could hold your hand.

You were home sooner than you’d wanted to be, stepping out of the car and bidding Mark and his mom goodbye with a ( too breathless-sounding ) “see you later” and once you were gone, Mark let out a big sigh, fanning his face as he made eye contact with his mom in the rear-view mirror.

“Finally, huh.”

“Well, you know...I like her.... and stuff.”

[stxphxn-strange]

A Slice of Life

a/n: i rly just wanted to give you a cute little fic from my college au, this is like rly early on before the full friend group has been formed but it’s still really fun and cute! i guess the one TW to watch out for here is implied/reference child abuse

“What do you think, jacket or no jacket?” Stephen asked, giving himself the once over.

“You look fine without it, but bring it just in case you get cold,” Christine suggested. “Where are you off to all dressed up?”

“I’m meeting my boyfriend for dinner,” Stephen replied. “Normally we don’t get too dressy but Anthony found a new restaurant to try so we decided to make an event out of it.”

“Is that his name?! I’ve been waiting to hear about this guy since we moved in!” Christine said.

“I was actually thinking about bringing him around for a little bit after we’re back from dinner, if that’s okay with you guys,” Stephen suggested.

“Finally!” Wong shouted. “All I hear about is how dreamy he is and I’ve been denied the opportunity to meet him! Not that it’s your fault, schedules are a bitch, but it’s about time, isn’t it?”

“What’s going on?” Pepper asked, joining her suitemates in Stephen and Wong’s room.

“Stephen is finally bringing his boyfriend over!” Christine cheered.

“I think he’s in one of my classes, actually, but we haven’t talked much yet,” Pepper replied. “Who’s giving him the shovel talk?”

“Me,” Wong insisted.

“Anthony doesn’t get intimidated easily but I’m genuinely concerned you guys are going to intimidate him,” Stephen said.

“That’s the point,” Wong replied. “Go out on your date and have fun! The shovel talk will be gentle, promise.”

“Let’s stalk his Instagram while Stephen is out!” Christine suggested.

Stephen rolled his eyes as his suitemates scurried off to… somewhere. Probably the living room, as most of their scheming happened in a central area. Grabbing his jacket and a few other essentials, he headed out. “I’ll see you guys soon, love you!”

“I’ll love you even more if you bring some desserts or leftovers!” Christine yelled, just as Stephen closed the door. “Do you think he heard?”

“Why don’t we just bake a cake or something? I don’t like to depend on other people for my baked goods,” Pepper said. “Red velvet sound good?”

++++

Stephen tackle hugged Anthony before he even closed the door.

His boyfriend let out a little “oof!” before hugging him back.

“Damn Stephen be careful, he’s tiny!” Rhodey teased.

“Ever since we were kids, anytime I heard self deprecation from Anthony I just hugged him like this,” Stephen replied, kissing the top of his boyfriend’s head before pulling away. “He can handle it.”

“Where are you guys off to?” Rhodey asked, sitting down and tying his shoes.

“There’s a restaurant in town that we haven’t tried yet, so we decided to go there,” Anthony replied.

“And my suitemates really want to meet Ant so we’re going to see them after. Apparently they want to give him a shovel talk,” Stephen added. “Where are you going?”

“First of all, Tones, good luck!” Rhodey teased. “And it’s a funny story. I met this girl Carol in one of my classes, and she and her girlfriend know this family who know that guy Bruce Banner and they’re having a guacamole party or something, so she invited me to that. Anywhere there’s guac is a place I need to be.”

“That’s awesome, but wait how do these people all know each other?” Stephen asked.

“Carol���s roommate is the one hosting the gathering, and I think her brothers are the ones who decided it needed to be a guac-specific event,” Rhodey replied. “From what I understand, Bruce has a crush on one of the brothers but I don’t know which one. I don’t even know the names of any of the siblings.”

“That sounds really fun, Platypus! Feel free to bring some guacamole back if the opportunity arises,” Anthony said.

“If I’m offered some, I will!” Rhodey said. “Get out of here so I can decide if I want to change my shirt or not, and have fun! Be safe!”

“Thanks Dad,” Stephen teased, rolling his eyes. “You too!”

Anthony took Stephen’s hand as they left, overcome with joy at the idea of going out with his boyfriend in the city.

“How was your day?” He asked.

Stephen shrugged. “Fine, nothing unusual happened. Wong tried an everything bagel and didn’t like it at all. How about yours?”

“Okay I’m going to follow up about your suitemates later,” Anthony said. “My day was about the same. I got a very angry phone call from a disgruntled Howard Stark this afternoon.”

“What about?”

“He was annoyed that I didn’t answer his call in the morning, even though I was in a lecture. Then it was just the usual spiel about how I’m a disappointment and this, that, and the other. I’ve heard it all before.”

Stephen frowned. “What a dick.”

“I think he’s more dependent on using me as a punching bag, at least just verbally for now, since my mother is traveling and he’s bored? I don’t know,” Anthony said with a shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, as I’ve told you before,” Stephen reminded him, his tone firm but loving. “Where’d your mom go?”

“Visiting my sister,” Anthony replied. “Apparently Natasha is starting a martial arts gym or a dance studio or a combination of the two (2), I don’t remember what she told me. I know it’s important to her that the people she teaches choose activities by passion and not gender roles, though. She just wants to help people find out what they’re good at while training herself, or something.”

“Oh we LOVE to see it,” Stephen said, opening the door for his boyfriend as they arrived at the restaurant.

“She excels at being the better sibling,” Anthony replied, before going to speak to the host. When he returned to Stephen, he was unsurprised when his boyfriend pulled him into another bone-crushing hug.

“You’re baby, and you’re perfect, and we’re going to have a nice night because any time I spend with you is nice,” Stephen said, softly kissing his boyfriend.

Anthony smiled, blushing and trying to hide his head in Stephen’s shoulder, even as a soft hand cupping his face held him still. “I love you.”

“Nerd. I love you too,” Stephen replied. “I don’t think my suitemates need to give you a shovel talk at all, you’re everything I could ever want, and you’re so good to me.”

“You’re going to make me cry before we even get a table,” Anthony quipped.

Stephen laughed, taking Anthony’s hand again as they were led to a table.

Once they were seated, Anthony immediately began to ask Stephen about his suitemates.

“You’ve seen my room so you know what it looks like, with Wong and me in one room and Christine Palmer and Pepper Potts in the other,” Stephen began.

“I think Pepper and I are in a class together. That name sounds familiar,” Anthony replied.

“She mentioned something about that,” Stephen said. “I doubt she’s going to give you a hard time, at least not as much as Christine and Wong.”

“What are some things that they like?” Anthony asked.

“Wong loves music and old books, but especially Beyoncé,” Stephen replied.

“Could his trust be earned with Beyoncé tickets?” Anthony immediately asked.

“Probably,” Stephen said. “You’d be doing the absolute most, but—”

“But when have you seen me not do the absolute most, in our 14 years of knowing each other?” Anthony cut him off. “What about Christine and Pepper?”

“Pepper is a sweet tooth and really likes unique TV shows, like things outside of the mainstream,” Stephen told him. “And Christine loves sports and the color blue.”

Anthony nodded. “And?”

“And what?”

“What do you like?”

Stephen rolled his eyes but played along with his boyfriend’s antics. “You. And being your boyfriend. Also spaghetti.”

“Is that right?” Anthony asked, barely suppressing a grin. “I love you. Your taste in men is questionable, though.”

“No it’s not!” Stephen replied. “I always wanted to be with you.”

“As I said: questionable,” Anthony repeated.

“No!” Stephen said. “I love you.”

++++

Someone, Christine probably, was screaming when Stephen opened the door.

“Guys what the fuck?!” Stephen asked.

“We’re trying to frost this cake and it’s not going well!” Christine shouted. “Kitchen!”

Still holding hands, the couple followed the sound of disgruntled amateur chefs (and Sasha fierce) to the suite’s small kitchen. Stephen couldn’t help but laugh at what he saw: Christine was manhandling a piping bag while Pepper spread frosting with a knife, and Wong was reading a cookbook and humming along to Beyoncé.

Anthony cleared his throat. “Hi guys!”

Pepper was the first to look up. “Oh my god Stephen! So you are dating Tony from my business class! I’m Pepper, by the way.”

“I thought you looked familiar!” Anthony said. “Nice to properly meet you, all of you.”

“Aww he’s sweet!” Wong said, changing the song. “Wong.”

Anthony politely introduced himself.

“Hey wait a minute, do you go by Tony or Anthony because we stalked your Instagram and couldn’t tell,” Christine said, ignoring Pepper telling her to not say that.

Anthony shrugged. “Either. Or you could call me ‘Ant’ too, I don’t really care. When I first met Stephen I only went by ‘Anthony,’ which is why he’s one of few people who calls me that, but I answer to most things.”

“When and where did you meet?” Wong asked. “And what, if I may be so bold, are your intentions with my roommate?”

“Stephen and I met on the first day of kindergarten, we’ve always been friends and have only been dating for a year and a half or so,” Anthony replied. “And you can keep grilling me if you want but you don’t have to, I promise to be good to him.”

“He already really is,” Stephen added.

Wong frowned in thought. “Hm. I had a whole dance number choreographed to ‘Don’t Hurt Yourself,’ but I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Now you realize that?” Christine scoffed.

“I would probably pay five dollars to see that,” Stephen replied.

“I’m not doing it, I don’t feel the need to be that extra… for now,” Wong quipped.

Anthony breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Well I’ll be able to get some sleep tonight then, I thought I was going to have to bribe you into liking me with Beyoncé tickets.”

“If you want to take me to a Beyoncé concert, I’m not going to say no!” Wong said. To Stephen, he added, “I might have to steal him from you!”

Tags: @maya-custodios-dionach @stark-strange-love @grumb-lin @ah3m @ironstrange-chaos @kiwidino

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 9 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

t-rated version on tumblr, m-rated on ao3 ;)

“Anna…” he said, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. He was so proud of her, how good she was; how she managed to charm everyone she ever met, how much work she put into her performances, how every eye in the room landed on her the moment she stepped in-- and he knew in his heart that in the coming days there would only be more of all of that, more eyes focused on her, more people wanting a little piece of her, more of the world demanding she let a little bit of her light rub off on them.

And still, she cared what he thought.

chapter 9: raindrops

They both agreed it was for the best that Kristoff drove to the beach, even though they were in Anna’s car; she was bursting with excitement, which only exacerbated her habit of talking with her hands.

He kept his own hands firmly on the wheel as she bounced on in the passenger seat. “So they want me to be her, which like-- oh my god, I grew up watching that movie and like...oh my god! I used to just dance around the living room and sing the songs over and over again and drive Elsa crazy, but it was only fair because she was into Star Wars and made me do lightsaber battles with her, but like-- oh my god, I always wanted to be her, and now maybe I will be--”

“Hang on,” Kristoff cut in as he reached over to squeeze one of her flailing hands at a red light. “This is like, the Anastasia who died in the Russian Revolution? This is like, a little kid movie?”

“Well, yeah. In this version, like, her family dies I guess, but it’s not onscreen or whatever, and she got away and just doesn’t know she-- wait. Kristoff, you’ve never seen Anastasia?”

“Um...no?”

“Not even with your sisters?”

He shrugged. “I...maybe I have and just forgot.”

“Well, you’ll have to watch it with me now,” Anna said, settling back in her seat. “That way when this comes out, you can be like everyone else fighting on Twitter about live-action remakes and whether they’re better or worse.”

“I don’t have Twitter, remember?”

“I’ll make you one, just for this. It’s part of the millennial experience, Kristoff.”

“What is?”

“Fighting with someone on the internet by sending reality TV gifs back and forth.”

“Um...if you say so.”

They’d already been driving for forty minutes, and they were getting close to the little cutoff he had found once in college when he’d just needed to get in the car and drive. He’d looked it up later, and the little beach it led to was technically public property, but he’d never once seen another soul out here. It was his favorite place to go when he needed to just be, and Anna was the first person he was ever showing it to. It was odd, but he was somehow nervous about it, worried that maybe for some reason she wouldn’t like it.

He was carefully watching the road signs when he heard a little “oh!” and glanced over at Anna.

“What is it?”

“I think I just saw a raindrop.”

“But we live in LA, it never rains here til--”

She was right. Another raindrop plopped suddenly on the windshield, and Kristoff felt himself deflate as surely as if he were a balloon that had just met its untimely end.

“Sorry, Anna,” he sighed, “just let me find a good spot to pull over and turn aro--”

“What are you talking about? It hasn’t rained in ages, I don’t mind at all.”

“But you wanted to swim, and we packed the picnic basket--”

“So? I can swim in the rain.”

He glanced at her again. “Seriously, Anna, you don’t have to--”

“It’s not a have to. I want to.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m not going to let a little shower ruin our day.”

It was quickly turning into more than just a little shower. As the rain picked up, he turned at last onto the cutoff and braked, not bothering to park. “Seriously, Anna, I--”

“Drive a little more. Onto the beach.”

He did so, holding back his questions. “Okay, now park.”

The moment he did so, she hopped out of the car and scurried to the back. “Anna!” he called after a moment of stunned surprise. “You’re going to get soaking wet!”

She had already opened the trunk; as he turned back to look at her, she cheerfully peeled off her t-shirt and tossed it up to him, leaving her in her bikini top and shorts. “Good thing I wore my swimsuit then, huh? Come back here and help me push the seats down.”

He did, and she pulled out the blanket they’d brought and spread it over the newly flat space in the back of the car. “See? Perfect! And less sand, too.”

She put one hand on his shoulder as she hopped on one foot, taking off her shoes. “Are you gonna swim with me, Kris?”

“It’s going to be even colder than normal with the rain.”

“Good thing you’re here to warm me up then,” she said as she succeeded in getting her other shoe off. “Come on!”

She took off running towards the water, a scream of delight tearing from her throat as the rain plastered her hair to her bare, freckled shoulders. She turned to wave back at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He followed after her, slowly, a wide grin on his face as he watched her run into the water, squealing when it splashed her ankles and she realized how cold it really was. “I warned you!” he called, but she only laughed. 

“Come on in, the water’s fine!”

Lightning flickered in the distance. “It’s about to storm, baby,” he called. “Come back!”

“Come and get me!”

He did, loping down towards the edge of the water, and she ran back out, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck. She was shivering, just a little, but when he pressed his hands against the small of her back, she sighed happily. “God, Kris, you’re so warm,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his neck. 

“You’ll be even warmer once you get back in the car,” he said, and then she took his hand in hers and they were running towards the car, laughter spilling from them as a crack of thunder sounded in the sky.

Once they were in the backseat of the car again, scooting back far enough that the few droplets of rain that were slipping in past the raised tailgate couldn’t reach them, he leaned against the side of the car as she snuggled up against him, her hair already soaking through his shirt. He pulled the picnic blanket up and draped it over her shoulders; she thanked him with a kiss before settling back against his side.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the rain and the waves as Anna warmed up against him, tucked under his arm. He was still trying to make sense of all that had happened in the last day, of this phone call about the big part and the fact that they’d almost fought and then realized neither of them wanted to and then, most importantly of all, that she’d said she loved him, and he’d said it back, and now at last he could say it whenever he wanted to instead of biting his tongue so it didn’t spill out while he was holding her or talking on the phone or just watching her being, well, her.

"I love you," he said, just to test the feel of it in his mouth once more, his heart beginning to pound; surely he'd imagined it, that she had ever said it at all--

"I love you, too," she said, tilting her chin up so she could kiss the underside of his jaw. "I love you so much, Kristoff, and I love your freckles and your eyes and your nose and your chest--"

 She shifted, straddling his lap so she could face him. "My chest?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," she said, pressing her hands against it and splaying her fingers out with a happy little sigh. "I love it when you pick me up or when you just hold me, and it just-- I just feel so safe, and--"

He kissed her then, too overwhelmed for words, but Anna pulled away after only a moment, determined to continue her list. "And I love the way your hair gets all messy when you sleep, and I love how handsome you look when you wear your glasses, and--"

She paused for a moment to let out a little gasp as his lips slid down to her neck; when he reached her collarbone she let her head loll back. He slid his hands up her back, keeping her pressed close to him, and her eyes fluttered shut. "God-- I think I love your mouth the most-- or maybe your hands-- fuck, Kris!" she gasped as without warning he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of her neck and shoulder, his tongue flicking over her skin.

Her hands started tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he leaned back just enough to pull it off with her help before capturing her mouth with his own. 

"I love you, too," he panted as he finally succeeded in tugging it off. "I-- everything about you, baby, it's all my favorite-- you're my favorite--"

"And you're mine," she whispered, and then she kissed him again and at last he was starting to believe this was real.

---

How did the meeting with your agent go yesterday afternoon? Sorry, just realized I forgot to ask when you called last night.

.

no worries i know u were tired, i was too so i forgot to say anything haha

but it was good! he gave me everything i need

including the sheet music😱

.

It’s a musical?

.

omg we rly have to find time to watch this movie together

yes but i havent sung much recently

nervous 

.

I can help you practice if you want.

.

omg 

u do music stuff? how am i just now finding this out 

.

Kind of. I’ll be home around 5 if you want to practice there.

Or we can go to your place.

.

urs is better 

elsa having honey over for dinner 👀

so i kind of already told her i would spend the night with u...just in case

is that ok?

.

It’s more than ok. You don’t even have to ask.

.

💕💕💕

ily!! 

.

Love you too.

Anna was there right at five, practically vibrating with excitement as Kristoff opened the door. “I haven’t even sat down yet,” he teased as she burst through the door, her arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t want to find out more about this musical gift you’ve been hiding from me!” she chirped, opening his fridge. “I brought stuff for dinner if that’s okay. And breakfast. Since you were at work or with me all the time the last few days, I figured you hadn’t had time to go to the grocery. And I got those carrot cake cupcakes Sven likes. I still feel bad about the sofa.”

He felt a swell of affection in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, coming up behind her and pulling her into an embrace. “But thank you.”

“I wanted to do it,” she said, turning in his arms so she could rise up on her toes and kiss him. “You do so much for me, I just...I don’t know.”

He just held her for a long moment, his heart skipping a beat when she sighed in contentment and nestled her face against his shoulder. There was so much about loving her that he, well, loved, but this-- just holding her, feeling the way her breath synchronize with his as the tension sank slowly out of her body, feeling himself relax as well and knowing it was all just because they were together-- well. It was difficult to imagine anything else ever making him happier.

“Love you,” he said softly, and she tightened her arms around his waist.

“Love you, love you, love you,” she said cheerfully before pulling away a little, still keeping her hands on his sides. “Are you still up for helping me practice? It’s okay if you’re too tired or need to study or something. But you might want to wear headphones if that’s the case, because the audition is this Friday, and I really do need to practice, and I’m, well, out of practice.”

Kristoff huffed out a laugh and took her hand, leading her to his room. “I’ve got time. No tests ‘til next week. No promises that I’ll actually be of help, though.”

Anna hopped a little with excitement as he opened the door. “Are you going to sing with me? Or do you have, like, a keyboard or something?”

“Or something.”

She hopped up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of it as he went to his closet, already feeling nervous even before he turned around and showed her the guitar in his hands. She gasped in surprise, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t know you played!”

“I don’t, not really,” he said hastily as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Well, you have your own guitar, so that has to count for something.”

He shrugged, fiddling awkwardly with the tuning pegs and plucking at the strings. “It’s just...I don’t know. My dad, uh, he taught me a little when I was younger, and then I had to do some kind of music class in college, and it kinda...it was relaxing, I guess. And then I found this one at a thrift store and just...got it on a whim. I, uh, I thought I would just, y’know, play for my mom some, I learned some songs for her birthday one year and...um…”

He felt a flush creeping up his cheeks, knowing he was rambling. “Anyway. So I don’t really play. But I can try for you.”

Anna’s eyes were soft as he looked at her over his shoulder. “Will you sing for me?”

His face only grew warmer. “I, uh, I-- Mom really likes Elvis, so that’s the only thing I know well enough to sing along to, and I know that’s kind of lame--”

“No, it’s not, really,” she said immediately, scooting forward so she could sit behind him, tucking her chin over his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist. “Please, Kris?”

“Anna…”

“I love you,” she said sweetly, pressing a kiss just under his ear, and how could he say no after that?

“Fine,” he grumbled, and she scooted back so she could watch him, her eyes bright. “Um...what song?”

“You pick.”

He started strumming a few chords, wishing his heart would slow down a little. “I...I really...I’m not very good…”

She just rested her chin in her hands, smiling at him so broadly he thought his heart would burst. He could have gone on staring at her all day, the way the afternoon sunlight slanted through the window and illuminated her hair and brought out her freckles and made her eyes shine bluer than anything he’d ever seen-- but she was waiting for him, and he knew that for whatever reason this meant something to her, and so he cleared his throat and started to sing. 

“Wise men say…”

His voice was shaking; he had to look away from her as he sang. He’d never performed for anyone besides his family, and even then he’d only been able to do it after secretly downing a shot of whiskey. 

He kept going, anyway, and after another line or two, he felt the bed shift and then the press of Anna’s cheek against his upper back as she snuggled against him. He stumbled for a moment, his heart and his voice stuttering, but as she pressed a kiss between his shoulderblades suddenly his nerves began to fade away.

“...for I can’t help falling in love with you,” he finished, strumming the final chord and realizing that at some point, his heart had finally slowed down.

Anna’s arms came over his shoulders as she embraced him, pressing a damp kiss against his cheek. “Thank you, Kris,” she sniffled, and he set the guitar down so he could turn and hug her back.

“Why are you crying, baby?” he teased gently as she swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt-- his sweatshirt, he realized suddenly, one that was so big on her it covered her hands. Had she really been wearing that all day? “Was it really that bad?”

“That was the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole entire life,” she said, and he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her, and then again on her forehead for good measure. 

“So where’s the music you need to practice? Your turn to sing for me.”

“It’s in my backpack,” she said, but made no move to lean down and get it from the floor, instead pressing a contented kiss against his cheek. 

He felt his heart jump, just as it always did, even now; somehow it always surprised him, the easy affection she gave him so freely, so happily, just because she could, because she wanted to, because as unbelievable as it seemed, she loved him. He held her close for another moment, just because he could, and then said, a hint of regret in his voice, “If we keep just doing this all night, then you’ll never get to practice, and I know this audition is really important…”

Anna sighed and slipped out of his arms to crouch on the floor and pull out a folder full of sheet music. She spread it open on the bed and considered it all for a moment, her fingers dancing in the air just above it all. “They told me I can just pick whichever song I want to do for it, even if I’d rather do one of the other characters’ ones because they’re still finishing up a couple of new additions...hmm…”

She glanced up at him. “There’s tabs written up at the top. Can you play based on that?”

He nodded; though he’d downplayed it out of nervousness, he actually did play fairly regularly. It had started just for the class, but then he’d found himself pulling out the guitar and practicing whenever his major classes got to be too much, and then he’d find himself returning to his notes with a newfound sense of clarity. He’d gotten an A in that initial music class and been surprised, even though over the course of the semester he’d put in dozens of hours of practice. He still pulled it out of the closet whenever work or school got too overwhelming, though never when Anna was over or Sven was home; the only people who’d ever heard him play at all had been his professor and his family-- well, until now. 

Anna settled on a song and shifted the music towards him. “Do you think you can do this one?”

“If you don’t mind me making some mistakes, sure.”

He started strumming slowly, just sounding out the chords, then nodded resolutely. “Okay. Ready?”

She nodded, and he started playing through the song, nodding to give her her cue to come in, but instead of singing she flushed bright red and looked away. Kristoff raised his eyebrows and played the intro again, waiting for her to start, but she shook her head. He set guitar down and asked playfully, “What, you can make a movie for the whole world to see, but you can’t sing in front of your boyfriend?”

“It’s different,” she squeaked out, her cheeks only growing redder. “Your opinion matters.”

He huffed out a laugh, knowing that this gently teasing back-and-forth was the only way to coax her into doing it, even though inside his chest he suddenly felt so warm he just wanted to toss all the music aside and pull her back into his arms. “You made me sing first. It’s only fair, baby.”

“Okay, okay-- just-- do it again, okay? I promise I’ll actually sing this time.”

He started strumming again, and this time she did, though she had to look away. He did his best to hide the surprise he was feeling; he’d heard her sing back when she’d performed in school musicals, and she’d been good then, but now...Jesus. No wonder they wanted her for this part. 

When they finished the song, the last note still shimmering tremulously in the air, he tossed the guitar aside and leaned over to pull her into a hug, his arms only tightening when she let out a little yelp of surprise. “Was that okay?” she asked hopefully, her hands settling on his back.

“Anna…” he said, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say. He was so proud of her, how good she was; how she managed to charm everyone she ever met, how much work she put into her performances, how every eye in the room landed on her the moment she stepped in-- and he knew in his heart that in the coming days there would only be more of all of that, more eyes focused on her, more people wanting a little piece of her, more of the world demanding she let a little bit of her light rub off on them.

And still, she cared what he thought. 

“You’re going to nail this, baby,” he said and felt her melt a little against him. “You’re going to get this part and be a fucking star, and I’m gonna be cheering you on the whole way.”

Whatever came next, whoever demanded something of her, whatever she demanded of herself-- he would be there, in the quiet moments and the loud, an anchor for her, as long as she wanted him to be the one she came home to, whether that was for only another week or for a lifetime.

And, if he was being honest, he was starting to hope it would be the latter.

[bae-leth]

Things to think about: Dimitri and Felix being those ridiculously worrying parents anytime Natalia or Artemis get sick or break a bone or something like that. Like it gets to the point that the castle healers dread flu season or are desperately praying that the kids don’t get hurt mostly because they’re sick and tired of dealing with the king and king consort.

ahh they might also be esp worried about sickness because Dimitri’s mother died from that plague iirc :( and we don’t know where Felix’s mother went, but one can assume/hc she passed away early due to illness, too. Watching your child get sicker is always terrible, and I can imagine the two of them just... fretting, because they can deal with enemies and war, but they can’t battle nature, can they?

oh god i just had a horrid thought. Imagine if one of the kids gets horribly sick one year - and I mean, horribly, don’t-know-if-they’ll-survive-sick. what if.... Dimitri..... starts thinking that this is his punishment.... his price for atonement ok oh god i’ll stop typing now and throw myself down a flight of stairs this is fdfd too sad NEXT ASK!!

Okay so do you know the animated movie Swan Princess? Basically I’m picturing something like Claude having a kid, let’s say a son who’s friendly and smart but also super mischievous and prefers the behind the scenes politics to the battlefield (I like the name Faris for him). And Faris and Natalia get engaged young for the sake of strengthening relations between Fodlan and Almyra but every time they meet they’re at each other’s throats but end up being a lovey dovey couple when they grow up.

One of my cousins is called Faris haha so I had to do a double take when reading this ask at first.... but I like this idea, it’s v sweet! The parents probably see them meet for the first time and wholly expect a childhood friendship like they all had... until Faris says something snarky to Natalia. and suddenly they’re brawling on the floor and the parents are like ‘???? WHAT HAPPENED. THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN-’

It reminds me of Anne and Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables, and that’s!!! always a good thing!!! Talk to me more about them.... I’m always a sucker for childhood friends/enemies enemies to friends to something more AUs...

For that Fraldarddyd family AU I know the original post says that when Artemis grew up he became super popular. So I just picturing this angel of a young man stealing hearts wherever he goes. He doesn’t even try, doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Meanwhile his dads and big sis and all his honorary aunts and uncles (and the??? Archbishop???) are scaring off anyone that so much as looks wrong at the little prince.

AHHHH you know those people in the world who are just??? Pure sunshine?? Their selfies blind you because they’re so full of light?? Everyone silently joins the ‘protect them’ squad after five minutes of knowing them?? No one can say no to them? Artemis is probably one of those people. He totally has a #DefenceSquad watching out for him all the time, even if he doesn’t catch on himself.

Funny things to imagine: so you know how in Dima and Catherine’s support Dimitri revealed that Catherine thought he looked like a girl when he was little? I like to imagine that when Natalia was little so many people thought she was a boy. Adorable things to imagine: picture shy baby Artemis just hiding behind Dimitri or Felix with his tiny hands clutching their clothes while his dads gently pat his head.

awww I’d love to imagine that Catherine says the same thing again but altered a little for Natalia, just for old time’s sake! She says “Look at that young lad wielding a giant lance. How adorable!” right when she knows that Dimitri’s watching his daughter’s progress, and the king just sighs and goes ‘rly. In front of my salad? Really??’. Natalia just watches her father sigh and erupts into giggles.

and ohhh don’T DO THIS to my HEART.... baby Artemis..... hiding behind his dads..... holding their hands..... peeking at strangers from between their legs.... THAT’S SO SWEET I.... I MIGHT JUST CRY.....

Can you imagine how nervous Dimitri and Felix would be in the Fraldarddyd Family AU since the two of them have complicated/limited experience with their own parents? Are they doing this right? Are they messing up? Will their kids love them or grow to hate them?

oh definitely! They want to be good fathers, especially because they know that they’ll often be busy due to irl duties, and they know the issues with their own parents, too (particularly Felix in that regard). It’s a learning process, though, and I've no doubt that they'll grow into fantastic parents with time :')

dimitri, crying silently when he thinks of his family: do I... do I deserve this? 

felix, sighing: how. many. times. do. i. have. to. TELL. you-

I just realized that Artemis' future class (a magic wielding wyvern rider) is basically the Malig Knight class from Fates. The only difference is that Malig Knights also use axes but Artemis is weak in those. But 3H classes mostly allow free use of weapons so hey. Anyways Artemis gave rise to the Malig Knight class in the future of Fodlan, we stan a legend.

omg.... Artemis truly is a trailblazer!! He starts using magic on a wyvern, and everyone just watches him. and immediately thinks to themselves “on god I’m doing that tOO-”

The Officers Academy gets a lot of proposals to open up this new class for everyone after Artemis sets everything going.

[huangfilms]

Prince!Chenle

summary: you’re a member of the royal family and I didn’t know and you ran into me in the village and I completely told you off oh my god || prince!au

(A/N) o-oh my god i’m back from the dead with some prince chenle hope u enjoy (im a lil rusty so leave me some feedback Please! also,,, its not proofread haha aslkdjfhals Please Spare Me)

okay so you live in the village

your mom told you prior that you need to just walk over to your grandma’s house and drop sumn off

and to get to her house, you have to cut into the uhhh

the place where all the store stands are

u know like the market place ish

and so your holding a lot of stuff in your arms and you just walk with your eyes on the floor, watching where you step

and you lift your head up at times so you can see if you’re ever going to bump into someone

guess what 

you rlly done goofed cause you Look Up and right as you do theres this body that collides with yours

and you drop

e v e r y t h i n g

then you just stop and you get rlly pissed off

you look up rly dramatically and slowly and you meet a pair of eyes that actually look a lil scared 

(ugh poor bby chenle im rlly srry)

‘are you serious??? were you just not paying attention??? do you seriously have no coordination on where you’re going??????’

and then you let out a huff and start to pick up your things and place them back in your basket

while you do that you’re just muttering to yourself, ‘GOSH my mom is literally going to whoop me if she finds out i dropped gma’s stuff’

and then you see the guy kneel in front of you and start to help

‘um...... i can do this by myself, you can go ahead and bump into someone else now’

and he just looks at you with this expression you cant read

then he slowly gets up

‘prince chenle, we need you back at the kingdom right away, your mother is asking for you.’

and then you freeze up

p-prince ????? w-what ????????

two plus tw o equals pie ??????

then you start to panic and you hurriedly place the rest of your stuff in the basket and Run

you just Run To Your gma’s house

but you hear a soft ‘wait!’ when you run but you just Cannot

you’re SOOOOO embarrassed and when you arrive at your gma’s house your face is RED

and your ears are all flushed and your gma asks whats wrong

‘i just told off the prince because he bumped into me-’

 in your defense he rlly didn’t look like a prince (wdym chenle ALWAYS looks like a prince smh)

he was wearing .... regular clothes so he Did Not Look Like A Prince

like,,,,,, yeah i dont know LOL

but then all your grandma does is LAUGH AT YOU

whats so funny??? blease omg hes gonna Have My Head omgomgomgsdhkjah

so your grandma just looks at you like you’re overreacting and says, “chenle is a nice boy!! he comes and visits me all the time sweetie.”

and then you freeze up because-

w hat ???? let me ??? move my ??? bang real quick ???

“grandma you what”

“chenle visits me all the time??? very nice boy, you’d like him !!”

and all she does is feed you then kick you outta the house to go home before it gets too dark

when you walk back your just rlly thinking ‘.... that happened huh ...’

AND THEN !!! you hear a lil yell of ‘hey!!’

and when you schnapp your head up you see the prince waving up at you with this Look on his face ???

so you just give him a weird glance and walk slowly towards him

“listen, about earlier i am so sor-”

“it’s fine !! hope you aren’t beating urself over it too much !! have a great evening ...?”

then u tell him ur name yadda yadda then he leaves and then ur like !!! haha what just happened !!!

so you go home and just sleep on it cause you kind of just dont want to think about it HAHA

so the next morning when you wake up your mom says to go to your gma’s again

just cause your gma wants to see you .. which is kind of odd

you only see your grandma during special occasions and when you drop things off

only because school/work has been taking a lot of your time

but just for your gma,,,,, you’ll visit her and forget the responsibilities for now

you walk there with confusion on your face because,,, although your grandma loves you, she doesn’t just spring on you and ask you to come over

so youre just curious about why she wants to see you (there isnt anything wrong with it !!! its just a lil odd)

when you arrive to her cottage you see this car outside and immediately become anxious

youre just treading slowly to the door, and then you raise your hand to knock,,, but youre hesitating A LOT

so time goes by (max. of like .. 5 minutes) and the door swings open to reveal your grandma

she puts you into a bone crushing hug, and then pulls you inside

“thank you for coming dear !! i want you to formally meet someone.”

and then you get SCARED scared

so when you turn to go into the living room, you nearly SCREAM

cause on the couch is mr prince chenle and you feel like one of the guards is going to strangle u with the glare they’re giving you

in your defense, you didnt Know ............ you told off the Prince .......

“chenle sweetie, this is my sweet grandchild i was telling you about !! they did tell me recently that you recently met.”

chenle blushes when he makes eye contact but you rlly dont now why cause You Told Him Off and thats rlly all you can think about HAHA

BUT in reality chenle isnt too bothered by that cause you didn’t immediately treat him like a Prince, you treated him like a regular person (albeit a lil ... Yikes)

and he actually thinks that you are the most gorgeous being in the World !! mayhaps lil prince even has a tiny crush on you !!!

when you Formally Introduce urself to him

ur grandma hits u w that, “sweetie can u help me n chenle garden some things !!”

and then she gestures u both to follow her in her backyard

she tells the guards to make themselves feel at home and leave out like lemonade or sumn

so you and chenle are just super awkward at first cause you dont know how to break the tension

also all you can think about once again: was that u rlly told him off

but then chenle starts to laugh really loudly at a joke your grandma says and then you just-

YOU WANT TO COO !! cause even tho his laugh is Super Loud, you find it endearing that he’s just letting loose like this

he catches you staring tho and he stops and he Blushes Again and you want to !!! squish !! 

who doesnt want to squish chenle he’s literally such an angel and hes so adorable ugh i lov baby

so you both just start talking more and then by the end of the day you guys are just best buddies

you forget hes the prince too

but then u walk in to see the guards and ur all lik e... righ t...

its ok tho !! chenle is a person too !!

and honestly you guys make this a regular thing

you and chenle go to ur gmas house to garden every day or when you guys have the time

and essentially its just you guys pulling out weeds while talking about new and exciting things that happened to you recently

and your grandma just watches you guys get along and her heart is happy

cause chenle sometimes talks to her about him not making friends cause they always use him for his status

and so ur gma knows u arent like that and shes just really happy to see the two of you get along really well

days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months !! and you guys become really really close friends

some feelings develop too or .. whatever ..

but you dont acknowledge them cause youre just a person who lives in the viliage while hes a prince

chenle does though

and hes so shy about it that he blushes everytime you say his name or just smile at him

cause his heart goes !!!!!

he rlly likes you

and u rlly like him but u just dont know !!!

ye wutevr its 2018 and status rlly shouldnt matter but ur just rlly conscious about being judged and stuff

like even if u started to date him would his parents accept you

and then u snap out of ur thoughts cause chenle looks worried and you havent answered his question

haha he asked a question ???

‘you want to hang out with me tomorrow?? thats not gardening?? i-i mean its ok to say no haha i love gardening with you i just wanted to know if y-you wanted to try something new with me? i-i understand if you want to say no-’

‘chenle, sweetheart, breathe,’

and then he Blushes cause oh they just called me sweetheart and he just breathes

then you say you would love to !!! 

and ur gma is just watching the Entire Thing with the guards

with popcorn and tea

and its literally the cutest little exchange ever cause youre both just blushing and red

so when tomorrow comes

chenle meets u at ur gmas house

and so like he holds his hand out for you to take and ur just !! heart into overdrive !!!

and then !!! he takes you to this ice skating rink cause youve mentioned before that you havent been

and he rented out the whole place so people wouldnt be bothering you two

and hes just nervous and so are you but since ur dont know how to skate youre just clinging to him for dear life

and hes such a blushing mess omg

the guards are just cooing at the both of you, some even join you on the ice

and you guys are just cracking jokes and having such a good time

there was a time where one of the guards fell on their ass and u two couldnt stop laughing

then chenle falls but since youre holding onto him you fall down too oops

and so ur just kinda ... laying down on him awkwardly and your guys’ faces are so CLOSE

but then you clear your throat and then you jump off of him

it gets kind of late and the guards are just like, “hate to break this cute and adorable moment, but your momma is calling you to be home prince”

and so chenle just blushes and gets up first, then holds his hand out again to help you up

it makes you sad when he has to leave, but he drops you off at home

when he does, he walks you to your door and then he says goodbye, but before he leaves

you feel a little bold and you kiss him on the cheek !!! so cute !!! cause then hes just RED ! and hes so flustured and he just waves bye and when he gets into his car

he just clutches his chest and has this big smile on his face and hes just so in awe

and the guards are teasing him but he really Does Not Care cause you just did : THAT 

you kissed him on the cheek and hes so !!! about it

but you guys go out more often after this

and sometimes is just to hang out with your gma cause chenle has grown to love her HAHA

its become a thing where you kiss him on the cheek goodbye

wow cute

one day though, hes saying bye and hes looking away while youre about to kiss his cheek

but then he remembers he needs to tell you something

so right as your lips are about to kiss his cheek

his head turns and you two share a lil innocent peck

AND YOURE BOTH BLUSHING WOW

AND THE GUARDS ARE SO !!!! 

o-ohmy gosh im so kilig you guys

CHENLE IS SO FLUSTURED THAT HE FORGETS WHAT HE WANTED TO TELL YOU

oh right he was about to CONFESS confess but like

ur flustered too so u rush out a goodbye and you LEAVE

and chenle is just !!!! ok ill tell them tomorrow !!!!

well tomorrow comes

and you dont show up

ur gma tells him that u’ve been exhausted cause of school, theyll probs be back tomorrow

so then he comes back tomorrow

and you arent there again

and this goes on for like a week

and he just Knows ur avoiding him

but like hes so fed up because he has been Waiting for the Right Time to confess to you

and so he goes over to ur house and then knocks

you answer the door and then your eyes grow wide and then u shut the door again

but chenle pushes it open and just “WAIT”

and so you just slowly open the door

“why have you been avoiding me??”

and ur just speechless cause haha avoiding you ?? why would i do that ???

and he gives you This Look 

and then ur all like ... “OKAY !!! so ive been avoiding you .... what about it..”

and he just sighs and hes all serious and ur all !! cause chenle is barely serious alsdkf

“Listen,,, i really like you,”

you pause and you just look at him before grinning

“i really like you too chenle!!”

and he just looks Frustrated cause he thinks you arent getting it

“more than a friend way!!!”

and then you start to smile and ur all like .. “the feeling is mutual bub !”

and now HES pausing cause w-what

m-marty

but then you just hug him tightly and tell him how much you really like him !!!

and he goes !!!! oh my gosh !!!! 

then you guys are just looking at each other and you really do forget that there are other people around you and he kisses you !!! wow !!! 

please spare me ive never had my first kiss before HASKDJFHASD

BUT ANYWHO

you guys are always together now !! and he even lets you meet his parents and they immediately: love you

you basically hang around him a lot and when he says he has to do sum prince duties ur all like ... huh ... i forget ur a prince LMFOAJFH

but everything is good everything is well !!!

youre just content with what you have with chenle even tho u started off a lil rocky

you just !!! like him so much !!! life is good hehe

anway end !!! prince chenle: cutest lil headcannon but chenle is ALREADY a prince !!!

Masterlist

[hwarangbangbang]

im jaebum » kiss the girl

i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on Tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or gifs, however i do take credit for writing these stories.

mark | jaebum | jinyoung | jackson | youngjae | bambam | yugyeom

title- kiss the girl prompt - “we fell asleep on the couch together on accident, how did my hand end up in your hair? were you breathing on my neck?! (why did I get tingly???????)” pairing - im jaebum/fem!reader tags - drinking, fluff, again hickies, suggestive snuggling, good morning anacondas, train to busan s p o i l e r s im sorry, they're meaningful hickies tho, is that even a thing, little mermaid reference ayyyye, bambam just rly likes hello kitty ok word count - 2,009 words author's note:  im sorry this chapter was so shitty, i just got done with school and i have a job so i work like 5 days out of the week, and i have college and payments and bills and ew. But i will try to be as productive as i can with the other members! enjoy!

How you ended up like this, you have no idea.

The last thing you remember was boo-hoo crying along with Youngjae at the ending of Train to Busan, probably annoying the hell out of Yugyeom on Youngjae's left and Jaebum on your right of the couch.

Listen, as much as they wanna complain, Su-an deserved her fucking father -- the scene when he made her let go of him in the train car and he forced himself away was brutal to your heart strings -- and he didn't deserve to die in the end. Neither did the buff dude who's name couldn't come to mind at the time in writing this story.

"Hey, (Y/N)-ah?" Youngjae sniffled out your name, you remembered, causing you to look over and he wiped his eyes. "Could you get me another s-soju, please...?" He asked and you nodded, getting up from your spot next to an already passed out Jaebum, head tilted back on the arm of the couch, exposing his neck and god you had way to many drinks.

You remember wiping your tears and trying to worm your way through the sea of bodies across your living room, slung across one another in slumber.

However, there were six things you woke up to in the morning that you were prepared for.

And one thing you weren't.

BamBam was curled up on the coffee table with a Hello Kitty blanket and a neck pillow (you honestly weren't surprised he could fit on there, he's so skinny-).

Yugyeom and Jinyoung were on the floor to the right of the coffee table, Yugyeom using Jinyoung's sweater as a blanket, and Jinyoung using Yugyeom's stomach as a pillow.

Youngjae was laying on the loveseat, Coco (yes, he brought his dog) sleeping on his chest while Mark was on the floor in front of that sofa.

Jackson was snoring quietly in the recliner with one knee pulled up to his chest rather uncomfortably, and his other sprawled out on the foot rest.

All those were expected. Even your slight hangover was expected.

However, the thing that caught your attention was the thick arm curling around your waist, keeping you pinned beneath the owner and the couch. You were on your back, but you couldn't see the face of who was currently making you suffer from so much body heat. However, you could feel a few things that gave you an idea.

He was breathing in and out slowly, his mouth moving slightly against the expanse of your throat as he stirred and you weren't sure if you were still dreaming because no way in hell can this be who you think it is. But all the signs did scream yes. The silky black strands your right hand was entangled in, the piercings you could feel resting against your shoulder, the other hand poking into your thigh-

Wait a minute.

If your head is resting on one arm of his.

One hand of yours is in his hair.

His other arm is around your waist.

And your other hand is fisted in his shirt.

Oh-

Oh my god.

That's a dick.

That's his dick.

His dick is hard-

Im Jaebum's dick is hard-

and it's-

now poking into your leG.

p a n i c-

Then the lips that were pressed against your neck began to part. And that was when the panic began to low-key set in. Open-mouthed kisses were placed on the space just over your jugular, kisses that had you squirming in the best ways. You were actually enjoying yourself. Until you realized how incredibly wrong it was as to what you were doing.

You liked Jaebum, but he didn't like you. And it was wrong of you to let him do this to you, knowing that he had no idea it was you who he was doing it to. His morning wood had nothing to do with you, his closeness, his tongue technology (a to the g to the u to the sTD- sorry) all of it had nothing to do with you. It was just his dream, and it didn't involve you-

"(Y/N)~"

Or, dreams do come true and he just moaned your fucking name.

His voice startled you, causing you to jump. Which was a bad idea. Because that caused him to switch positions, so now he was on the bottom (hehe, bottom) and you were laying over him, his arms tightly around your torso so you weren't moving anytime soon.

aND YOU COULD feEL his dICK.

Anaconda. Cock-A-Doodle-Do. Pool Noodle. Hot Dog. Banana. Incredible Hulk. The terms are endless but it was there and o h m y g o d. Do you scream, do you cry, who the fuck knows.

You were about to wake him up when what he said next had your face redder than whatever 'set' he was complaining about. "Black makes you look sexier, (Y/N), more dangerous... I like it." Fuc- it's okay, you were fine.

"Jaebum... Jaebum-" You called softly, lightly patting his cheek but all that got was a nose twitch and a small groan. You sighed, before it dawned on you. You'd liked Jaebum for a while... when were you going to get another chance like this? You always thought since you were the third oldest out of the group of friends, two months older than BamBam, that he saw you as some kid. I mean, you two talked amongst each other about photography and such, but he never looked like he saw more of you.

Well, this was a game changer.

Taking all the courage you had, you leaned down and you kissed him. It was quick, barely even a full second, but you pulled back and scanned his face, but found no signs of consciousness.

Until he smirked a few seconds later.

"I knew you liked me, (Y/N)."

His sleepy smirk turned into a full on grin as he flipped the two of you once again, now both your hands on your stomach and his on either side of you, holding himself up. God, he looked gorgeous even when he was just getting up; his hair matted on one side, his voice deeper than ever, it rivaled Jackson's even.

You were pretty sure that you looked a mess.  Ruined eyeliner from crying with Youngjae at the end of the movie – your breath probably smelled straight from a dumpster with how much you'd drank combined morning breath and it didn't sound like that good of a combination. You probably even had some drool dried on your chin.

You were sputtering like a dying engine trying to figure out what the hell to say. But he said it for you. "I... I know that I don't seem like I have feelings... for really anything." He confessed, catching your attention down to his plush pink lips just begging for yours. "Jinyoung and Youngjae have been working with me on that- I promise." He added, slightly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh my god, shut up I have a hangover let me sleep!” BamBam croaked out in his slightly deep voice – it was in English, surprisingly, rather than Korean or even Thai – and he just rolled over on his back to face the other way, the small Hello Kitty blanket barely covering his thin, lanky form.

This caused the tension in the room to shift. With you frozen beneath him, after the outburst from BamBam it caused you to go into a fit of giggles; ones you hushed yourself with your hand to keep from waking him up more. Jaebum was no better, biting his bottom lip to stop from laughing himself. After you two calmed down, he resumed his monologue.

Do you think he practiced it?

He totally practiced it.

For the sake of your own ego, you led yourself to believe he practiced it.

"I know I might treat you like a kid sometimes, but that's just because I'm scared of getting close to someone... someone I like a lot and have them leave me in the dust just for my fame. But I-... I know you won't do that to me, (Y/N)... right?"

God, it broke your heart to hear such things come from the singer's mouth. He'd been your friend since he was in the JJ Project, when you and Youngjae were just itty bitty trainees at JYP. Then, you'd landed a job in the production of GOT7, and were a on a team as a artist for their albums and their brand. But you always were honest with everyone, especially the GOT7 members, they were like family to you.

But Jaebum... he was more. He made your heart flutter with every passing glance.

You'd had a crush on him, even in his awkward blonde  JJP phase with Jinyoung -- who was like an older brother to you. You would barely talk to Jaebum as a trainee, and when you weren't cutting it for debut, you were surprised to find yourself in JYPD-nim's office, and have him tell you that you got a job instead.

You didn't know it, but when Jaebum was told of the trainees that weren't debuting and were being let go from the company, he had to make sure you were kept on the team. He didn't know how to tell you of his feelings for you, but he would keep you around until he did.

And here he was.

C O N F E S S I N G.

"S-So, (Y/N), will you-"

"Yes. Yes, a billion times yes, just.. one thing."

He tilted his head, a big sleepy grin on his face at your acceptance of his feelings as well as reciprocation. "What's that?"

You bit your lip to hide your smile.

"Kiss me?"

And he sure as hell did. He kissed everywhere -- your eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin, lips, everywhere he could reach, leaving you in giggles. Until he kissed somewhere that had you making other noises that you had to clasp your hand over your mouth to hide.

He left exactly five marks on your skin. One for each year he knew you. One for each year that he should have told you. One for each year he left behind with you.

Just as he was finishing the last one, with you just barely managing to push him away from your neck so you could have a minute to breathe without it being into your hand, you heard a round of 'ooh's' sounding around the room.

"Jaebummie-hyung got some!"

Oh my god, Yugyeom. Go back to sleep.

"Good, now he'll stop complaining about her talking with Jackson more than him."

That was Jinyoung.

"She doesn't talk with me that much more!"

You were red in the face.

"Aish! You woke up Coco and now I have a headache!"

"Yah, Youngjae-ah, I think there's pills in the bathroom-"

Everyone was awake aside from BamBam, who was still snoring comfortably on the coffee table, passed out drunk.

And here you were, buried under Jaebum with marks littering your neck from him.

"Come, Jaebum! Kiss the girl!"

Jaebum looked down at you, a big grin on his face.

general masterlist

[dustingrayves]

clean slate (7/?)

previous | next

Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter:  Rating: T+ TWs: (past) abuse, talking about it  AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper Notes: this took a long ass time im sorry but i wanted to make sure it was, soft and reassuring as it should be. this fic is rly close to my heart and writing it is very tiring in a certain way

anyway. esper & lusa talk it out! 

ao3

Lusa had thought Esper would be uncomfortable, but much to his surprise (and elation), he isn’t. Then again, he hadn’t been that uncomfortable around Knight or Arme.

At least the second time around.

Esper had taken to cooking lunch for them all, the biggest pot sitting on the stove, filled with rice. A saucepan rests next to it, thick sauce with pieces of meat slowly cooling down from its boiling point. The scent permeates the whole house; it had lulled Arc downstairs from where he’d been preparing his room for the other boys.

“No, dad! I have to make it into a fort!” Arc had cried in the morning, stubbornly pulling along all the blankets and pillows that weren’t in Lusa’s own bed. As an afterthought, Lusa made him return a set to the guest room. Esper needs somewhere to sleep, too, after all.

The Sieghart-Ishmael family arrives right on time, not that Arme’s punctuality would allow for anything else. They come in like a hurricane, Shea chasing Anpa as soon as they’re out of the car and backing him right into the living room. Arc joins in, siding with Anpa, and soon enough, they tickle Shea back into being nice, the redhead pleading with them to let him go.

Lusa turns to offer Esper an apology, but is stunned to see the man laughing and making his way over as if it were the most natural thing, kneeling down and stopping the boys before Shea’s laughter could turn into tears.

“Great with kids, isn’t he?” Knight says, watching the scene from besides him. Lusa nods absently, his expression softening.

“He’s great in general.”

Knight snorts, casting the taller man a look, but doesn’t bother commenting. He follows Esper’s beckoning and goes over to the kitchen; Arme is right on his tail.

The table in the kitchen is way too small for all of them and soon enough there’s Esper, holding two too many plates. He seems to manage them all, though, setting them onto the coffee table with ease. Knight follows with a bottle of cola and his own plate, Arme with the other plates, and the kids with cutlery.

A heated debate starts between the boys and Esper about which superpower is the best and would win in a fight. In the end Esper convinces them that stopping time would be better than any magic. By the time they conclude this, the food is set out.

“Arc, why didn’t you tell us you have a new dad?” Anpa asks as Arc takes a mouthful — his timing is always impeccable.

“Yeah, Esper’s so cool!” Shea agrees enthusiastically.

Esper almost chokes on his food, coughing loudly to try and clear his windpipe. “I’m not Arc’s dad, guys,” he says, nervously looking at Lusa. He, however, didn’t seem to notice the remark. That, or he’s pretending not to have heard it, though Esper can’t fathom up a reason why he’d do that.

“But you cook and help me with homework,” Arc pipes up, having finally properly chewed and swallowed. “That’s what dads do!”

Esper doesn’t know how to reply to that, and Lusa is of no help whatsoever when he looks over again. In fact, he’s pointedly ignoring everything and switching through the TV channels faster than he can even notice what’s on them. But when he looks closer, Esper notices the prominent blush creeping into his tan cheeks.

“Does that mean Esper and Lusa do stuff like dad and papa?” Shead ponders, barely legible through the food he keeps cramming into his mouth.

“Like kissing and stuff?” supplies Anpa, at which Shea nods.

Esper’s heart skips a beat. Or a bunch of them. “I— I don’t—”

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full, it’s rude,” Arme interjects, and his look makes Shea shy away in guilt, silently chewing through his next mouthful.

Esper stays silent for the rest of the meal, even when Lusa makes banter with Arme and Knight. The kids don’t seem to notice his detached state, but Lusa sure does, sending him concerned glances.

“What’s for dessert?” Arc whines when everyone but Arme is done with their food, looking at Esper with those big doe eyes. “Is it ice cream? Do we have ice cream, Es? Ice cream, ice cream!”

Anpa and Shea join in, equally as enthusiastic, voices whiny and prolonging the words. “I want ice cream, too!” “Me too, me too!” “Esper, please!”

Who is Esper to say ‘no’ to three matching pairs of pleading eyes? Plus it gives him the excuse to escape the stifling atmosphere in the living room that he couldn’t find on his own.

“I’ll go get you some. Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he says, smiling at the boys. He collects the empty plates and cutlery and retreats into the quieter and safer, less confusing kitchen.

“I want the ice cream!” Arc whines, kicking his feet up where he sits. The couch makes dull thuds as his tiny feet hit it.

“I’ll go help him,” Lusa says finally, pushing himself up and going over to the kitchen.

He finds Esper nervously shifting in front of the counter, three bowls of ice cream neatly arranged on it. But the container hasn’t been put away and Esper’s eyes are glued to it as he tangles and untangles his fingers sporadically, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Esper?” Lusa calls out, and immediately winces, because the lanky man quite literally jumps three feet up, shoulders going stiffer than Arme’s work face.

“Ah, Lusa— I—”

“What’s wrong?” Lusa asks, to stop whatever excuse Esper has bubbling up from within him.

“Well, I…” Esper’s shoulders sag and he jerks his head to the ice cream container on the counter. He looks unjustly guilty and Lusa can’t figure out why. “I also… wanted ice cream,” comes out of Esper finally, quiet as ever. “I— Can I?”

So that’s what happened.

Lusa’s stomach makes a very uncomfortable flip at the familiarity of such uncertainty. He steps closer, but tries his best not to be too up in Esper’s personal space.

“Esper,” he says, but the other man keeps his gaze pointedly trained to the floor. “Hey, can I touch you?”

After a moment, Esper gives a hesitant nod.

Lusa’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, just a gentle pressure. It moves up and his fingers curl around Esper’s chin, only putting slight pressure, and ultimately it’s Esper himself who yields and lifts his chin, looking at Lusa with wide eyes.

“Listen to me, Esper, okay? There’s no— okay, are you listening, listen closely, there’s no circumstance where you couldn’t. You can eat the whole damn thing if you want to,” Lusa tells him, making sure Esper is looking right at him. “You don’t have to ask these things.”

He lets go of Esper’s chin, but he doesn’t move back yet, waiting until Esper says something, until it sinks in, anything. He’s surprised when Esper’s hands come up and wrap around him, giving a small squeeze, but as quick as that, they’re gone; Esper steps back a little, scanning Lusa’s expression for any signs that that had been wrong.

He doesn’t find any.

“I— thank you,” he forces out, feeling like there’s a lump lodged right inside his throat. Lusa’s lips stretch out into a wide smile.

“You can have all the ice cream, but,” he says, moving to the cooking cabinet. “not without sprinkles.”

Esper is bewildered when Lusa produces a colorful box and scatters some (way too much) of the sprinkles onto all four of the bowls. Lusa notes Esper gave himself less ice cream than the kids. Baby steps, he reminds himself. It’s a start.

Lusa pops up back from work while Esper eats dinner and watches something that looks awfully like a cat vine compilation.

“Hey,” he greets, and feels more worried than reassured when Esper hums in return, shoveling the reheated leftovers into his mouth. He doesn't even raise his gaze from the laptop. Lusa sets his bag down and plops himself next to the lankier man. “You’ve been… not yourself since the sleepover. If there’s something bothering you, I wanna talk about it.”

His tone — maybe a little more forceful than he’d intended — makes Esper pause, but he doesn’t tense up or do anything else to indicate he wants to get away from the situation.

“I—” Esper stares down at his plate, fork tapping against the blue plastic. “Sorry, it’s stupid, I just— keep thinking about what he kids said.”

Lusa reaches over and pauses the video with a tap, making sure they aren’t interrupted. “It’s not stupid,” he declares, stretching an arm. “Touch okay?” he makes sure to ask and only when he receives a nod does he put it around Esper’s shoulders. “If it makes you worry, it’s important.”

Esper laughs, though he seems to lose his appetite and sets the half-eaten meal onto the coffee table. “You think I’d make a good father?” he asks out of nowhere.

“Dude, you’d make a great dad! You can deal with kids really well and they like you too!”

Esper’s lips curl into a wistful smile. “Thanks. I… used to think dads were totally different, and I vowed I’d never ever be like him and— oh. I shouldn’t talk about that, huh?”

Lusa’s arm pulls Esper closer, almost unconsciously. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. But if you wanna, I’m all ears for you.”

“He was a really bad father. I mean, I knew it wasn’t really normal, I just— I never realized how not normal it’d been. Not until… I met you. And I— I really don't want to hurt Arc, but he thinks I’m staying and I don’t know how to tell him I’m not without hurting him and being like him—”

“Hey,” Lusa says, stopping Esper as he starts going down a spiral. He doesn’t even realize tears have sprung into his eyes — or that they started rolling down his cheeks — until Lusa moves to wipe them with a thumb. “Do you want to leave?”

“I— I don’t know?” Esper answers, though his inflection warps it into more of a question than anything. “I don’t want to freeload you, I already owe you a lot.”

A flash of uncontrollable rage bolts through Lusa.

Not at Esper, god no, but at the fucker who made this his first thought process.

“You’re not a freeloader, and you don’t owe me shit.” Lusa takes a deep breath to stop himself from growling. Esper looks away, hiding his worried look. “Listen, you staying here? That’s me paying you back. Y’know, for sending you to the hospital?”

“You said it’s a polyclinic—”

“You never had to cook or clean or anything, but you did, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by saying something. I know you feel obliged to, I know that feeling, but I promise you aren’t. Plus it’s not like I’m gonna kick you out, if— if you don’t wanna leave. It’s nice having you about, y’know?”

“Wait—” Esper cuts him off again — the first time that has happened, he thinks — looking at him with a frown. “You— how would you know about this feeling?”

Lusa starts, but laughs. “You told me about yourself, so I’ll tell you too. Arc’s mom, her name’s Sera, and… y’know, she wasn’t the best person. We met at the university, we were in the same course, and I, I idolized her. She was pretty, she was smart and skilled and resourceful. I thought she loved me back, I really did. We worked together, but for her, the work was always a priority. We’d pull allnighters and she’d get me to bring her whatever she needed or wanted. I was more of an errand boy than anything partner-like. And her slaps were legendary. I’m serious, she could send me sprawling halfway across the room with one if I did anything to get between her and her latest creation. I haven’t seen her since Arc was born; she just packed up and left. She never wanted a kid, but she used her pregnancy to wind me around her finger even more.”

“How…?” Esper asks, shakily. His brows are so drawn up that Lusa thinks they might stay like that if he keeps it up longer.

He shrugs. “She’d always go ‘I can’t bend over like this, you do it!’ or saying things like ‘You put the kid in me, but only I can get it out, one way or the other.’ That one was terrifying.”

“Wait, no! I meant… how can you just… talk about it like this?”

Lusa seems perplexed. “It was a long time ago.”

“But that— sounds horrible!” Esper almost cries out, “How can you be… so normal? I’m a— I’m a wreck!”

Lusa pulls the slighter man closer, so close, in fact, that Esper ends up leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t complain because he appreciates the option to hide his face.

“As I said, it was a long time ago, and I had help. It took years, you’re not supposed to be okay. Whatever happened to you is gonna leave a mark,” Lusa says, carding his fingers through Esper’s short hair.

Esper mumbles something into the fabric of his shirt, but it’s too quiet to make out.

“What was that?” he asks, coaxing Esper to repeat himself.

“I said, do you think I could be like you? Okay?” Esper says, still in a low voice. His expression is utterly begging as he looks up at Lusa.

“Of course, Es,” Lusa answers, doing his best to sound sure of himself. “It takes time, but you’re away from him now. If you want, I can help you. Me and Knight and Arme. They were there for me when I was at my lowest.”

Esper chokes on a sob, “Why would you do that, though?” He sounds like he wants to believe him, but just needs the reassurance.

Lusa offers it with a big grin. “Because you’re my friend.”

Esper’s features melt into an unsure smile, like the liquid relief just flooded through him. “So you make friends by punching people’s lights out?”

“Not all, just the best ones.”

Esper snorts and takes the ensuing silence to play the video again. A cat falls off of the fridge only to land perfectly in a glass bowl. Its face is priceless.

“He was really awful, you know?” Esper mutters. Lusa keeps quiet to let him get whatever he wants off his chest off of his chest. “Made me clean the house every day, screamed if he found one speck of dust. Always wanted everything perfect. It’s all different here,” he says always wistfully. “It’s fun cooking here.”

“You can cook all you want. But I think the pantry needs to restocked for that.”

“I can go shopping tomorrow,” Esper offers immediately.

“How about we all go shopping tomorrow? Believe it or not, Arc actually loves shopping.”

Esper’s eyebrows raise. “I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, he always gets me to buy him a toy.”

“I’m no longer surprised.”

[ad1thi]

meri pyaari tony

okay so @iam93percentstardust got me rly excited about this new au and even though im never going to write it i just wanna write a lil so enjoy everybody!! (hopefully this will clear up what i meant by not a happy ending but also not an unhappy ending)

//

The phone rings once, twice before it cuts off, and James’ back stiffens.

On the table, his mother’s fingers have stilled - frozen in the action of pushing the birthday card for his 10 year old nephew into an envelope.

The phone rings again, just twice, long enough to be unmistakable but too short to actually answer.

He looks out to the heaving rain, and without even thinking of reaching for an umbrella, he’s already sprinting across the grounds of his house, uncaring of how soaked he’s getting as he pushes himself up and over the gate of the neighbouring house and into the attic.

In the molten, rusty room, on top of an old suitcase that he’s seen Tony sit on countless times with his feet swinging off the ground - is a 6 year old boy; fiddling with the buttons of his jacket.

James runs his hands across his face, wiping off the water that’s collected in the creases of his forehead, and walks over to the kid.

He must look a state to the kid, sopping wet and uncharacteristically happy despite said dampness, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“I’m really hungry,” he says to the boy, grinning, “do you think I can borrow one of your fingers to eat?”

Instinctively, the boy puts his hands behind his back, shaking his head fervently and James pouts, “not even the one? You have 10!”

The kid is saved from answering from a call of “Peter!” ringing outside the attic, and James turns, watching Tony fumble with closing an umbrella and he pushes into the attic.

Its a scene that James has imagined a thousand times over, watching Tony meet him in the attic where their childhood selves because friends all those years ago - and yet his imagination somehow didn’t do justice to the scene in front of him.

It takes Tony a couple of seconds to realise that James is there, and his face splits into a hesitant smile thats over-run with a frown when the kid barrels into his leg.

Tony runs his finger through the kid’s hair, “go find your Papa Peter - I’ll be down in a couple of seconds”

He waits until the kid’s disappeared down the stairs to turn back to James, “so, are you guys bestfriends yet?”

“No,” James says, smiling that private smile he’d reserved for Tony, “but you know me - I grow on people”

“Its good to see you Rhodey,” Tony says, and its only the fact that he’s carrying his bodyweight in water while Tony is wearing an expensive suit that keeps him from crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Tony.

“I forget,” Tony says, settling down on the suitcase his son vacated, “was it 2 rings or 3 rings? Our emergency code?”

“2,” Rhodey says, lifting up his fingers, “but then again - everything was an emergency for you so we never had any other code”

“Dad told me you’d stopped by,” Tony says, “didn’t realise you cared so much about this old dump”

Rhodey chooses not to answer that, “So you’re finally taking Major Stark to your house huh? Took you long enough”

“I know,” Tony huffs, “we’ll be at each other’s throats by the end of the week, but what can you do?”

Tony gestures around the attic vaguely, “I wanted to give Peter a chance to see this house before he sold it though - let him see where his Dad grew up”

“Peter?” Rhodey raises an eyebrow, “like Peter Pan? And here I thought your child would have one of those weird names with an unnecessarily pretentious pronunciation”

Tony raises his hand to swat at Rhodey, and for a second its just like old times.

Rhodey settles down next to him, shoving him with his hip until Tony shifts enough to make space on the suitcase for him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?” Rhodey says softly, “I’ve imagined it 1000 times over. ‘Course, in my version you were in distinctly less clothing, on your knees begging for forgiveness while an epic revenge tune played in the background”

Tony chuckles, eyes crinkling into familiar crow’s feet, and Rhodey thinks that for all the years he spent hating Tony - nothing can compare to the decades he spent loving him.

“So, New York Best Seller Writer huh? You finally did it Rhodey,” Tony leans in with a conspiratorial look on his face, “I walked out on you way too early”

you shouldn’t have walked out on me at all, Rhodey thinks, but this isn’t the right time for that conversation.

(he wonders if there ever will be a right time for that conversation)

Instead, Rhodey asks, “have you read any of them?” and Tony scoffs, “have you met me?”

“I can barely get through the first couple of pages of essential stuff like manuals, do I look like I can read?”

“That being said,” Tony says, “with a cover that says The Wild Washerwoman will wash you away, and - fuck what was the other one?” he scrunches up his nose in thought, “Tricycle - it will puncture your life, how could I resist?”

It warms something dead inside Rhodey that Tony reads his books, that Tony knows them well enough to recite the gaudy catchphrases his PR team used to sell them.

“Yuck man,” Tony says, “honestly how far have you fallen for a couple of sales. I gotta say though, extremely entertaining”

“Yeah well,” Rhodey shrugs, “horror is easy. I’ve been trying to write a love story for the past three years now and I’m not sure how to end it”

the why goes unspoken, hanging in the air and making the room thick with tension.

Tony reaches out and cups his cheek, and it takes everything in Rhodey to not lean into it.

“you’ll finish it,” Tony says softly, “You’re my Rhodey - ‘course you’ll finish it”

Rhodey pushes off his seat suddenly, making it half way to the door before he remembers to turn around and tell Tony to “stay put, don’t move I’ll be right back”

And he runs through the rain again, ignoring the shouts of his father and his manager to grab the manuscript on his bed.

He pushes it under his jacket roughly and runs back, where Tony is still sitting on the old suitcase - legs dangling just above the floor.

He puts the manuscript in between his hands, and says in one short breath, “read it”

and so Tony does - though he does flip through large portions of the book and crucial plot points.

Its okay though, because Tony lived through those moments, so he’s allowed to embellish and skip to the end.

When he flips the last page and looks back up at Rhodey, there’s tears in his eyes - but Rhodey’s known him long enough to know that these are happy tears

“This is your version Rhodeybear,” Tony says, “mine would be a little different”

Rhodey shrugs delicately, thinking about the night he tore through 10 pages trying to get that final last first kiss right, “a happy ending sells right? Why - what would be different in your version?”

“Does it matter?” Tony’s voice is wet, “I like your version better”

“But you found your Mr Right,” Rhodey says matter of factly, and Tony just shakes his head, “more like Mr Right place right time”

“But,”  Tony wipes away the stray tear on his cheek, “he gave me Peter so I can’t complain. You should see me as a dad platypus, it’s like I was made for this role. Being a dad, thats the one thing I’m not a disaster at”

Tony holds out the manuscript, but Rhodey pushes it back gently shaking his head, “I don’t want anyone else reading this. Not my manager, not your husband, nobody else. The story in those pages, that’s ours, just ours.”

Tony leans up and presses a soft kiss on Rhodey’s cheek, featherlight but its what makes Rhodey reach out and say.

“I can still take you away if you want. Just say the word and I’ll carry you over my shoulder - away from all of this”

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off by Peter barrelling in, making grabby arms at his father.

Tony hefts up his son, arm caught around Peter’s waist and he looks at Rhodey with a mixture of nostalgia and regret, “I think I might be a bit too heavy for you now honeybear”

Tony leans in and rubs his nose against Peter’s cheek and in Rhodey’s mind, he’s right there with Tony - arms around the two most important boys in his life.

But in reality, there’s a distance between them, a space that try as he might, Rhodey can’t cross.

For the first time in almost 5 years, that doesn’t make him sad anymore.

you should see me as a dad platypus, Tony had said, and Rhodey’s seeing it now.

Oddly, it doesn’t hurt quite as much as he always thought it would.

“We have a party to get to right?” Tony says finally, setting Peter down so that they can walk down the stairs, “your nephew’s 10th birthday is it?”

The rain hasn’t let up, but in all fairness to his family - neither has the party because Rhodey and Tony make their way down to see a gaggle of uncles and aunts dancing in the grounds anyway, music coming from a speaker hidden away safely from the porch.

Peter runs across the field to a man with blue eyes and blond hair, who instantly bend down and picks him up - spinning him around and smiling when Peter shrieks about how wet he’s getting.

“One dance?” Rhodey asks, extending his hand out to Tony, “for old time’s sake?”

The look that Tony sends his way cannot be described as anything but pure adoration when he accepts Rhodey’s hand, giggling when Rhodey uses the momentum to pull him in close to his chest and snag an arm around his waist.

He’s consciously aware of the weight of the metal band around Tony’s finger pressing into his as they sway to the music, but it doesn’t bother him anymore.

To the rest of the world, he’s always be a Mr someone - but to Rhodey, he has and forever will be, his very first love, Tony.

Fin

[allhallows-art]

WRITING REQUESTS

So, I’ve decided to redo this shit I did a while back. A long time ago, I compiled a huge list of AU’s and I’ve decided to repost it. If you want a bit of writing done for the following people:

SuperMega Game Grumps Markiplier ( and crew including Tyler and Ethan ) HatFilms Sidemen Cow Chop CancerCrew Then all you have to do is pick from the list below, send the number to me along with who you want it to be about. I’ll try and get through them as soon as I can. They’ll probably all be shit and jokey bc that’s my writing style but I hope you enjoy Thanks to @apocalypto-12​ for rekindling my love for writing and feel free to pick some Au’s and I'll write them for you babe

1. ‘my parents are rly religious and forced me to this meeting I hate everything the entire world is against me what the actual fuck did a stranger just send me nudes’ 2. I’m passionate about this cause and I will give you this flier if I must shove it down your throat 3. all our friends are drunk 4. it’s 3 am and I’m still in the library studying for finals and I’m losing my grip on reality and I think I just saw a ghost 5. We’re studying in the library and there are two people very obviously fucking in the stacks and we keep sharing embarrassed glances 6. You decked me in the head while you were playing frisbee golf 7. I’ve been sitting in this seat all semester why did you decide to sit in it today 8. my friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me 9. it’s 3am, in the dead of winter, some motherfucker pulled/set off the fire alarm and I am being very vocal about how I’m gonna make that fucker pay 10. you’re the fucker who set off the fire alarm with your awful cooking (or) I’m the fucker who set off the fire alarm with my awful cooking 11. dude your headphones are loud like I can make out most of Kayne’s lyrics and I’m sitting across the fucking room 12. you live above me and I’m going to murder you if you don’t stop throwing parties Sunday night 13. ‘me and my roommate decided to decorate our house for Halloween but got really into it, and ended up re-enacting several scenes from nightmare on elm street so loud the neighbours called the police to investigate screams’ 14. I broke your nose at a mosh pit 15. “You were chased by the cops, got in my car and just yelled ‘Drive!’” 16. “You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend’s house and I should call the cops but my cat kinda likes you so we’re good” 17. “You saw me reading the same book you did and we got into a heated discussion on how much it sucks 18. “My cat steals underwear and I come home to find you chasing my cat to get your underwear back.” 19. “This horrible umbrella won’t extend! Oh, shit I just hit you in the stomach/crotch! I’m so sorry.” 20. “I drunkenly tried to fight you and knocked myself out but you were kind enough to take care of me till I woke up.” 21. “I thought you were my friend so I slapped your ass in greeting.” 22. “I’m watching The Lion King on my phone and I’m trying to hide the fact I’m sobbing uncontrollably but you notice anyway.” 23. cat person and dog person meet at petco and their pets won’t stop hissing and growling at each other 24. we’re both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust 25. a mutual friend invited us to their laser tag party and we’re the last two alive on opposite teams and goddammit if I’m going down you’re going down with me 26. ‘I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning and when I asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why you’re here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night’ 27. 'last night was a haze for both of us and somehow we woke up hungover in a bed that isn’t either of ours and neither of us recognize this apartment we should probably get out of here before someone calls the cops on us’ 28. 'i found you sleeping on my balcony when I went out to water my plants why are you here and more importantly how did you get here we’re eighteen floors up’ 29. ‘I called the wrong number and started talking about my life and you only interrupted me after a few a few minutes of me revealing some pretty personal stuff and now your invested in my life troubles’ 30. ‘we’re two thirds of the threesome we had last night and we’re walking awkwardly out of the last person’s apartment together’ 31. ‘I’ve had a really awful day so I started kicking a car out of frustration and it turned out to be your car I’m so sorry’ 32. I always see you doing weird shit at ridiculous hours of the night and it makes me feel better because I do weird shit in the middle of the night too 33. “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else." 34. “So why did I have to punch that guy?” 35. “I hope you know that my name is actually ________.” 36. "That is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit.” 37. “Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?” 38. “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.” 39. I asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again 40. “I’m so sorry that my child pointed out how your shirt- actually never mind I agree, that shirt is horrendous” 41. “You’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch oh god you’re going to be so confused in the morning” 42. “I’m at work and my son needs to be picked up from school do you mind?” 43. “Okay well it turns out you’re really good with kids and my son has started calling you daddy and insists we move in so ‘we can be a real family’” 44. “Our dogs whine whenever they’re apart so we spend pretty much every day together” 45. “I walked in on your ex yelling at you so you grabbed me and kissed me so she’d go away and I’m kind of freaked out I literally just met you last week” 46. I’m giving out candy for Halloween and you brought your little sibling trick or treating and I think that’s sweet 47. I accidentally egged the wrong house and I’m trying to apologize but it’s one in the morning and you’re pissed off and I’m so sorry 48. “I live below you and I was minding my own business watching the snowfall out the window WHEN I SAW A BODY FALL ARE YOU REALLY PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS NOW” 49. “our Christmas party turned into a tropical theme because the radiator is broken and it’s hotter than hell in here - damn you look good without a shirt I never noticed before asgdhfjgkhl” 50. You’re allergic to cats but my cat really likes you my bad 51. You caught me having a Barbie movie marathon and now I’m trying to keep you from telling anyone about this! 52. met at a family reunion but not related to each other 53. your kid hates my kid 54. Accidentally “parkoured” through your window and I must pay you back but I’m dead broke 55. It’s a rainy day and I see you get side-splashed by a car and I’m laughing so hard until I get hit too 56. Drunkenly sold my soul to a demon and now I’m their bitch but this might be not so bad 57. Work at the same shitty restaurant and have all the same shitty shift times 58. 'What the fuck are you doing its midnight why are you playing 'My Heart Will Go On' on the piano' 59. “I came up to your apartment to ask you to turn down your music and have quieter sex, but it turns out that you’ve just been jumping up and down on your bed in your underwear listening to music alone 60. 'I heard you singing backstreet boys at 3am and decided to sing along oops’ (other old boybands can be substituted) 61. 'I was walking by the roller coasters and SOMEONE’S SHOE FLEW OFF AND HIT ME IN THE HEAD 62. you’re the drummer for my brother’s band and I find you hot (bonus: the band is really shit and the drummer doesn't want to be there so uses the other person as an excuse to get out of practice) 63. we go to the same coffee shop every evening to do homework but we never speak to each other until today 64. I’m only your friend because we smoke weed and get high together 65.

66. “I want to blame my young child from accidentally breaking your window with a baseball, but it actually was in fact me, and I was aiming for your roof I am sorry 67. we have apartments next to each other and sometimes you’re blasting shitty music but other times you’re jerking off and that’s even louder than the music please quite down 68. “I’m a biker and one day I was biking in your neighborhood while you just happened to be outside watering the plants and since you’re so goddamn cute I accidentally steered into a pole and now you’re giving me first aid (holy shit you’re even cuter up close)” 69. “I’m at a karaoke bar and I’m sober enough to realize that your voice singing my absolute favorite song is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, and you caught me staring and winked at me oh shit" 70. “it’s 2 in the morning and I was just trying to get home but I left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and I drove into a pole – would you please stop laughing you’re a cop. you’re supposed to be helping” 71. “you can’t get tattooed drunk, come back in the morning and if you still want my name on your ass we’ll talk" 72. ‘I walked into the public bathroom at a mcdonalds and you’re dangling halfway out of an air vent do I even want to know what you were doing’ 73. ‘I found you on the roof of my house passed out with a black eye holding a fire extinguisher’ 74. I accidentally texted the wrong number with a cat meme and you replied back with a different one unexpectedly and we just kept going ‘till I was convinced I would marry you 75. I’m best friends with your brother and when we were face-chatting you walked past in your boxers and bent over to pick something up and I tried averting my eyes but that ass 76. Detective partners 77. Reincarnation 78. Childhood friends with adjoining houses/rooms 79. This is the end of the world and we’re all we’ve got 80. I keep calling tech support because you’re helpful and your voice is cute 81. Competitive buskers who eventually for a band 82. Pen pals who vent to each other every week 83. Working at a theatre together during midnight premiere of a blockbuster 84. Meeting while waiting for hours in the a&e 85. Panicked yelling in unison because of lost baggage between connecting flights 86. Book store 87. Reluctant team mates who save the world together 88. Stuck in an airport because our flights were very delayed and it’s like 2am 89. Pretending to be siblings because of reasons 90. Teaming up to rescue respective abducted children 91. Trapped in a bank during a robbery 92. I’m pretending to be your bff bc you look very uncomfortable with that person at the bar 93. New fbi partner is hot 94. You accidentally shipped this weird thing to my apartment 95. Inappropriately timed confessions 96. At a ski lodge somehow got stuck outside in a storm hey look an abandoned cabin logically thinking go inside for warmth 97. Oops friend looks like the only place to sleep in this house is this small twin sized bed guess we are sharing 98. Inappropriately timed proposals 99. Called the wrong number while drunk 100. Hitchhiker 101. Arranged marriage 102. Fallen angel 103. Fashion designer 104. Zombie apocalypse 105. Backpacking across Europe 106. Mermaid 107. Band on tour 108. Small town lovers 109. Ice skaters 110. Dancing partners 111. Singing partners 112. Lawyers/ detectives 113. Writer and editor 114. Photographer and model 115. Stuck in a lift together 116. Phycologist and a patient 117. Partners in crime 118. Dystopian 119. Utopian 120. We both got kicked out of our rooms bc our room mates are hooking up and we are now avoiding each other 121. Laser tag 122. Walked by a rollercoaster and got hit in the head by a shoe 123. Swim team 124. Got mistaken for a celeb by their biggest fan 125. Sorry I set the fire alarm off for like the forty ninth time I tried to cook 126. I’m a werewolf but I’m embarrassed to tell you bc my wolf form is more like a Chihuahua 127. We both tried to rob a bank at the same time 128. Mistaken identity 129. Trapped on a desert island 130. Lab partners 131. Runaway royalty and a confused commoner 132. Android ad human 133. Immortal and non-immortal 134. Detention 135. Time travel 136. Came to the wrong Halloween party 137. Pranked the wrong person 138. Accidentally scared a kid and their adult is angry at me 139. Rival super heroes trying to save the same small town 140. Neighbours who only met because “I cannot get this stupid jar open can you help?” 141. We made a bet at the beginning of laser tag guess who won pay up 142. I’m on the FBIs most wanted for killing a ton of people but dw I just wanna date you bc your face is smoochable and you give me butterflies 143. Life sized version of clue in an old abandoned manor 144. Reunited after surviving zombie apocalypse 145. “are we both robbing the same house?” 146. Kissed them as a distraction to steal their wallet 147. “you know you’re singing out loud to your headphones, right?” 148. “I think my dog likes your dog” 149. Little kids getting way caught up in make believe 150. Lives alone in the woods next to a waterfall finds a confused lost person walking round 151. Fighting a squirrel 152. Spy 153. Private security 154. Angry biologists 155. Historians 156. Crazy cat hoarder and frustrated allergic to cats neighbour 157. Modern royalty 158. Got up at 2am for snacks at the store and found you trying to sleep in the hallway bc your roommates have his fiancée over and I guess I’ll lend you my couch 159. My cat went into your apartment through an open window and likes to piss everywhere and ruin furniture and now your back home from the store and you found me in the middle of your living room but I promise I’m not a burglar 160. Its 3 am and as much as you have a great music taste people are trying to sleep 161. My best friend somehow broke me to and tonight it the season finale of my fav to show and no internet streams are working can I watch it on you to please I promise I’ll go back to my apartment once it’s over 162. “I moved into the apartment next door and its totally haunted crash I crash here tonight” 163. “I may or may not have just robbed a bank and please help me get away I will pay you in sexual favors also cash” 164. “I don’t know you but you were at that party last night and long story short I now have your name tattooed on my ass2 165. “my friends dared me to go on this rollercoaster and now we are at the top and it looks hella scary and hello hot person next to me careful I might puke” 166. You thought you were alone at the bus stop early this morning so you started singing fall out boy loud but your Patrick stump impression could use some work and I’m not afraid to point that out 167. We’re rival up and coming singers and every time one of us releases a song the other covers it to try and make it better. We’re also always trying to out cute each other and top each other but half our fans ship us; our agents use this to their advantage and decide we should do a duet bc it would be popular but now we are in the studio together and I know and I kinda wanna know how your lips feel 168. Help I cannot find my cat and I know its 3 am but me and Neil cat rick Harris would appreciate the help 169. I’m a computer hacker trying to hack government systems but accidentally hacked your computer as you were searching up sex positions and looking at questionable porn 170. I’m a fandom blogger and you’re an aesthetic/fashion blogger and I accidentally followed you through that Tumblr radar thing but you’re too cute to unfollow 171. I sent you one of those ask memes Reponses saying that I would date you but we’ve never talked and you live half way across the world but now you’re interested whoops 172. You started banging on my door at 3 in the morning bc you got the wrong apartment and now I’m inviting you in for tea to bitch about the person you thought lived here 173. Person A accidentally falls in the pond trying to reach something and person B is a bystander who can’t help but laugh 174. Person B must grab person A from falling into the t6raintracks because they did stay behind the yellow line 175. you’re a store clerk and oh no I just spotted my ex can I hide behind your desk thingy 176. We’re neighbors and we’ve never talker but your cat may have gotten my cat pregnant guess we’ll have to raise a kitty family together. 177. A toddler broke your nose and I may or may not have snapped my thumb n an intense game of Mario kart and now we are sitting next to each other in A&E 178. I tried to rescue you from being robbed but got knocked out and you had to take me to the hospital after getting your wallet stolen 179. I purposefully get your coffee order wrong so you will talk to me again 180. I work at the checkout ad you are clearly not old enough to buy that 181. We are both con artists scamming each other 182. My hamster escaped and I think he went under your door 183. “Hey we hooked up last night and it turns out you’re my child’s teacher” 184. “we are neighbors and every night at 3;14 you start yodeling?? Why?? Is that you yodeling?? Its been two months??” 185. “I woke up this morning to find you in my living room with a goat wearing a poncho who are you?? Why is the goat wearing a poncho?? How did you get the goat here I live on the 12th floor?? 186. “I was playing beer pong with a coin and accidentally threw it in your eye at a party” 187. “okay I get that you’re a good thief and you don’t want to go to jail but I’m the tired af detective sent to catch you I stg if you let me bring you in I can get you a good deal” 188. “We’ve been nothing but friends our whole lives but then we played seven minutes in heaven on a dare and now I think I’m in love with you” 189. “My guitarist quit the night before a gig that could be my bands big break and apparently, you are really good but if you screw this up for us I will hunt you down and slit your throat” 190. “it’s the middle of the night and I’m walking in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s gaining on me and I found a phone booth with a lock on and tried to call my sister but my hand was shaking so now I’ve ended up calling you and I don’t know who you are but please help” 191. They captured you and put you in a room with me because I can suppress other people’s powers so you hate me but I’m just lonely and bored and want to talk to you 192. Esteemed rival chefs who find each other shamelessly buying ramen at 3am 193. “I know it’s the apocalypse but please can we keep this stray dog” 194. We’re at a murder mystery party and I’m sure you’re the killer 195. Your grandma is forward even though we are just friends 196. “We got into a really heated Wii tennis match and the rec and now I wanna bang you” 197. “you are literally the last person I would expect to see at Disneyland but hey wanna ride space mountain” 198. “YOU LIKE GAME OF THRONES TOO?!” 199. “in interviewing you for a newspaper can you please stop flirting with me and we can get coffee afterwards” 200. “we’re enemies by day but league of legends allies by night” 201. Ancient gods 202. Whoops I accidentally summoned a demon 203. Co captains who always argue 204. “I didn’t mean to throw the water balloon at you I meant to hit my friend behind you” 205. There was a food fight and I accidentally threw spaghetti at the scariest kid in school 206. “I happened to glance in your window when you did some air guitar and then you caught me looking” 207. “I live a block away from the pizza place that’s open until 2 am and you’re like always here which is nice because I get to see you but, um is you sleeping here because you’re literally always here” 208. “I swear to god if I hear you taking a shower at 3 in the morning I will fight you, the pipes in this building are right above my room WHY are you taking a shower at THREE IN THE MORNING” 209. 210. “I can literally hear you sneezing through the walls and I bought you some chicken soup because I have exams to study for and your sneezing is seriously distracting” 211. “Im the poor loser you lent your umbrella to yesterday and my cat scratched through the fabric I’m sorry” 212. “we were partnered for this project and both forgot to do it and now have to pull an all nighter at my house” 213. “I came to this Halloween part as Frankenstein and you came as frankenstein’s wife and now everyone thinks we are dates” 214. We’re the only ones at this tiny bus shelter and you’ve been crying for the past ten minutes and id give you privacy but its pouring down with rain outside so “do you want to talk about it?” I guess 215. You’ve just moved into my apartment and I want a drink but you’ve been in the kitchen for an hour and you will judge me for drinking whiskey at noon on a Sunday 216. We’re both in the brass section of the marching band and you won’t stop making ‘horny’ puns 217. You work in construction and I walk by every day to give you a bagel 218. I sit behind you in lecture and bio1102 is not the place to watch porn 219. We were the only idiots who showed up to ballroom dance class without a partner 220. We are in class and you keep throwing paper balls at me why 221. Its 2am and I’m knocking on your window, wake up let’s go on a late-night walk or something idk can we hold hands already 222. Our kids got paired up for a project and I meant just drop my kid off at your house but now we are at the end of a three hour talk 223. Battle of the bands 224. Our grandparents are in the same nursing home and hate each other whereas we don’t. 225. Arrested at the same protest 226. How do you keep getting my name that wrong on my coffee cup? 227. Only two people who bought tickets to this movie 228. Our manager is making us push this crappy item no one needs but you thought my campaigns was funny so you bought it 229. I desperately need you to fix my laptop but please don’t judge me for my browser history 230. My kid’s hamster died while she was at school and I don’t know how to tell her 231. I made a dumb science joke in class and you’re the only one who laughed 232. Everyone in our dorm has gone out but I have the flu and hear you coughing pathetically from the next room wanna share my stash of cough drops and have Netflix marathon 233. Got into a seriously heated argument in the comments of a mutual friends post 234. Rival street performers 235. My kid shoplifted from your store and I marched her right back to apologies 236. Why didn’t you tell me this place was haunted before I rented it from you? 237. My band plays at the same restraint every Friday and you always make obscure requests and I know you’re trying to stump me but you have rally underestimated how much of a music geek I am 238. m the caterer and you’re the florist for this wedding and we bond over talking about how bad of a person the bride’s mother is 239. We’re chaperoning these kids at an ice skating rink and that last couples skate was pathetic how about we show them how it’s done? 240. We both work at rivalling gossip magazines and keep trying to outdo each other ridiculous stories 241. I accidentally caught the neighbor’s yard on fire and I didn’t think it could get worse but the volunteer fireman reprimanding me is gorgeous and probably thinks I’m an idiot 242. I didn’t mean to get you arrested I thought I was helping 243. Your pizza keeps getting delivered to my house and I need to talk to you about your choice of toppings 244. Graffiti artist/ mural painter 245. You’re the only major film critic who’s hated my movie and I need to talk to you about it because I agree

[sibillascribbles08]

Somewhere Else

Lmao okay here’s part two of this junk because I’m weak and I had an idea.

But honestly I’m really proud of this? Like some of the descriptions turned out rly well and I got emotional like four times.

Side note: What happened to Overwatch in spirit!AU is a bit different from what I theorize happened in canon but it’s my AU and I’ll do what I want.

It took almost a month for Gabriel to figure out how to do that dream jump. It was partially because of how hectic things were, the UN moving them around for PR business. Gabriel swore if he had to get on another plane anytime soon he was going to puke. The other part was just the fact that Marigold was a little shit and kept trying to make him beg for it.

“You’re the ones who wanted us to do this. Just show me how. Dios mío, Marí.”

“Fine,” He could hear the smirk in her voice. “I suppose I’ve teased you long enough.

She flew out onto the water, trailing her wing in circles on its surface. The ripples spun around, faster and faster as the glass morphed into a whirlpool. Gabriel felt dizzy looking at it.

“You aren’t telling me I have to jump in there.”

“It is not like you can drown.” She hovered over it.

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Honestly, I know you are not afraid of water.”

“No, but I have been trapped under a wave before. It’s not pleasant.”

“Just jump.” Her calm voice muted out the rushing water. “You will be fine.”

Sometimes he hated it, how it seemed like the hill should slowly descend into the water but instead it just vanished. He could sometimes tell when he stared at it that it was endlessly deep. Some days he considered swimming in it but was simply to afraid of what he’d find.

A few times he swore he could see a pair of eyes watching him from below.

Finally he took a deep breath before he made a running leap into the water. It was fast, so fast. One moment he could feel it rushing past him, tossing him around before it simply stopped.

Grass.

He could feel grass under his fingers, under his cheek. He pushed himself up, trying to see where he was but it was still nothing but grass. He had to stand to see past it, all of it reaching past his waist. He froze for a moment when he saw how far it went, forever. The blades swung about in the breeze, like waves on the water. The horizon was dark, dusk perhaps. He followed the gradient of colors up to see a full moon in the sky, bigger than he’d ever seen.

It wasn’t quite what he expected. A field, certainly, but he thought it’d be some kind of farm with how Jack described his home. He turned around, wondering if there was even anything else here. His gaze met a mountain range, snow covering the tops and the stars over them flashing like snowflakes. They seemed huge, impossibly far and yet so close at the same time. He followed the hills around until he saw the barn, surrounded by a fence. The building seemed well intact, but even from here he could see a couple of missing roof pieces and wooden planks out of place.

Where was Jack?

It was strange, standing there, looking at how vast it all was. It’s not that his mind wasn’t much the same, but the clutter of buildings made it seem smaller. He had his island or his boat keeping it contained to something manageable, but this? Gabriel felt like if he wandered in the wrong direction he’d never find his way back.

The longer he stood there the harder it was to breath. Even with how open it was he felt some kind of pressure on his shoulders. And it was quiet, it was so damn quiet. Even with the breeze there were no birds, no honking cars, it felt so...

Empty.

The pressure was reaching his throat now and he ran towards the barn. Jack had to be there, right? Where else would he be. The grass brushed against his legs as he moved, a rhythmic sound that would have been soothing if not for his oncoming panic. Where was it even coming from?

“Jack?” His voice cracked when he called out, leaping clean over the fence. “Jackie?”

His boyfriend’s familiar face popped up from the huge window on the second floor. He looked surprised before he grinned and waved.

“Gabe, hey. You actually made it. Just wait right there.”

The clattering in the barn kept him grounded, the sound of boots against wood as he assumed Jack returned to ground level. He could hear some kind of latch clicking on the huge barn door before Jack pushed it open. His grin was still there as he ran out, tackling Gabriel into a hug.

“Well? What do you think? I know it’s not much but-” That grin finally fell, his eyes going wide. “Gabe? What’s wrong?”

Gabriel was about to ask what he was talking about until he was suddenly aware of the dampness on his face. He was crying? How long had that been happening? When he tried to wipe them away he realized how much there actually was.

“I think the pup is just a bit overwhelmed.”

He spun around, not recognizing the deep voice. At first all he could see was white fur. He had to tilt his head back to see the face of the wolf, Jack’s wolf.

“Holy shit,” He almost shouted and stumbled backwards into his boyfriend. “Holy shit, Jackie, why didn’t you tell me he was this huge?”

“I thought I did?”

Whitefang laughed, a wheezy sound from his throat as he showed his teeth. “I may be young but not that young.”

“What do you mean overwhelmed?” Jack changed the subject, gripping Gabriel’s shoulders.

“This place is nothing more than a visual representation of you mind.” The wolf leaned down to be more eye level. “I suppose what you feel when you see it and what he feels are rather different. Sometimes it’s jarring. He’ll be fine.”

Jack turned Gabriel around, concern still lining his features. “What do you feel?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” He wiped away tears again. “I guess it’s just so different. Mine is a lot more crowded, sort of, you know? This,” He waved at the fields. “This just feels so...”

“Open?”

“Empty.”

Jack’s vacant stare left him feeling more anxious by the second. Then his boyfriend gave him a soft smile and tugged him toward the barn. “Come on, I think this will fix that.”

The barn seemed warmer, somehow, even if it wasn’t actually cold outside. He almost expected it to be dusty but that didn’t make any sense. Instead, the walls were covered in photos and trinkets. A few shelves in the back were lined with books. Boxes and chests were pressed up against the walls, filled with other things he assumed. It wasn’t much different from the boat in his mind.

“There’s even more upstairs.” Jack kept tugging. “Come on you have to see this.”

The ladder up to the loft was tiny but held firm as both of them climbed up. The floor was rather clear, particles of dust drifting in the stream of light coming from the window. There was actually hay there, pushed out to the sides like some kind of nest. There wasn’t as much stuff, but Gabriel took note of the stack of comic books and one stuffed bear with a pilot’s helmet.

“Come here.” Jack plopped down onto the hay and patted it. “You really have to see this.”

Gabriel questioned what there was to see when he sat down, leaning against the frame of the window. The air was nice and the view would be too if there was anything to look at besides grass.

Jack closed one eye, holding out his hand with his thumb up. Gabriel couldn’t possibly figure out what he was doing, following his line of sight to the giant moon in the sky.

Then suddenly it moved, practically flew up and over their heads taking the night sky with it. The black and purple gave way to pale blues and a shade of pink. Gabriel’s jaw went slack when he saw that touch of orange peaking out of the horizon, lighting everything up. The grass seemed to shine, the shadows of the waves clearer than ever before.

“You said you wanted to see the sunrise. It’s not exact, but it’s pretty close.”

Gabriel had seen sunrises before, but something about this looked different, felt different. Like time had started moving again, slowly, and he was actually ready to face the world ahead of him.

“Doesn’t feel quite as empty, right?”

He looked over at Jack and his amazement became overwhelming. That dot of orange made his blue eyes glitter, made the strands of his hair light up. The shadows outlined his face, showing the dips and curves and Gabriel wanted nothing more than to feel them under his finger tips.

So he did.

Jack leaned into the touch, eyes falling shut. Gabriel didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, kissing the line of his jaw, wondering if he could taste the sun’s rays on his skin. The scent of morning dew hit his nose as the breeze brushed past them. For a moment he imagined they were somewhere else, waking up at dawn with a gentle rain outside. The open window letting in the cool air. Nowhere they needed to be, all the time in the world to enjoy the quiet moments.

“Gabe?”

The hand against his face made him realize he was crying again.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack was trying not to laugh as he brushed the tears away.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Gabriel pressed their foreheads together. The light from the rising sun was so bright but it didn’t hurt at all. “Thinking about us, somewhere else. No more worrying about missions or PR or pretending we’re only comrades and not... I always hoped we could get there when this was over.”

Suddenly that pressure returned again. Gabriel couldn’t place at all where it was coming from but he tried to chase it away with a deep breath.

“We’ll get there Gabe.” Jack placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“When?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll get there.” He stood without letting go, tugging Gabriel up with him. “Come on, there’s plenty more to show you.”

The pair made their way back down the ladder. Whitefang was curled up in the corner now, enjoying a nap. Gabriel resisted the urge to flop on top of the wolf, not at all sure how the creature would react.

Jack started taking him through photo after photo, showing him family members, events, Gabriel was almost amazed by how much there was. A part of him envied Jack for having that many stories about his family, but he imagined Jack felt the same. He often talked about how much he wished he could have gone on as many adventures as Gabriel did. It seemed like he didn’t travel very far from his home.

“Aw look,” Gabriel was grinned as he shifted through one box of pictures. “There’s Mr. Brace Face.”

Jack spun around, eyes wide. He made a scramble for the picture but Gabriel darted out of his reach.

“Look at you. What was this, freshman year? You’re so damn tiny. And are those freckles? What happened to those?”

“Grew out of them.”

“Shame, we should try and get them back. Put you on the beach for a few days.”

“Whenever the UN actually gives us a vacation.”

Gabriel snorted, finally handing the photo over. “You’re telling me. Even when this PR stuff is done it won’t be over. Not with you appointed as Strike Commander.”

Suddenly everything froze.

Both literally and figuratively.

The wind stopped, the air stopped. Jack went rigid where he stood, eyes wide as the photo fell out of his fingers. A light crack was the only sound Gabriel could hear and when he turned to search it out he saw all the snow outside. When the hell had that gotten there? Ice crawled in from the doorway, snapping and groaning as it covered the wood of the barn.

“Jack?” Gabriel said, but his boyfriend didn’t respond. “Jack? What’s going on? Hey!”

He reached towards him but the motion was cut off by a sudden blast of cold wind. He flinched, feeling ice and snow hit his skin. The swirl of it all made the barn fade out into nothing but white. He tried reaching out once more but Jack was gone.

He was gone. The barn was gone. The only thing around him was ice and snow. He felt panic setting in for a moment before he shook his head and shouted.

“Whitefang?”

The wolf was there in a second, yellow eyes glowing in the fog.

“What the hell happened? Where’s Jack?”

“Nightmare,” The wolf crouched down. “He fell into a nightmare. I need to get you out of here.”

“Whoa whoa, no way. We have to snap him out of it.”

“Child of the sun, if you get lost in here you may get trapped.”

“I can’t just wake up and leave him like this.”

The wolf’s gaze was so intimidating, cold and serious. Finally he snapped his head to the side. “Climb on.”

“Huh?”

“Climb on my back and hold on tight. We must find him.”

Gabriel didn’t hesitate to do as he was told. The wolf’s fur was cold to the touch, tiny threads of ice under his fingers. He ignored the sensation and gripped the fur on his neck, praying it would be enough.

Whitefang straightened up, sniffing the air for a few beats before he took off. The motion almost sent Gabriel flying. Ice scraped across his cheeks with the harsh wind. He struggled to keep his eyes open, wondering how he could find Jack in this mess.

The wolf must have found something, letting out a bark and a growl as he turned. His pace slowed down as he lowered his head, nosing through the snow. He dug his paws in, tossing the snow behind him before gripping something below it.

With a few sharp tugs he pulled Jack to the surface by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Jack?” Gabriel called out as he slid off the spirit’s back. Jack’s eyes were shut, his skin turning an awful shade of blue.

He didn’t hesitate to reach out.

“Gabriel.”

The use of his name startled him. He turned back to look at the wolf, those glowing yellow eyes fixed on him.

“Listen to me. If you touch him now you must not let go. Do you understand?”

“Why not?”

“Not only could it harm you but he would vanish again. Regardless of what you see or hear you must not let go.”

“If it’s that risky why are you letting me do this?”

“Because, you are the only one who could solve this.”

“Solve what?”

The wolf said nothing. He only nodded his gaze toward Jack.

Gabriel knelt down, cold snow pressed under his knees. He tried to ignite his palms, but it failed. Must not work here.

Didn’t matter. He grabbed Jack’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“Jackie? Hey. Come on, tell me you can hear me.”

Suddenly the space around him glitched. There was no other way to describe it. Parts of the ground changed color. The howling wind distorted and froze, before changing into another sound.

“Congratulations, my friend.”

“Good work Jack.”

“You’ll do a wonderful job.”

Gabriel recognized the voices, but more and more of them swirled around. Space kept distorting, colors shifting before it flashed.

He tightened his grip.

Don’t let go.

A wall, he was staring at a wall. No, looking up it was a desk. Faces shrouded in shadows stared down at him.

“This is a great opportunity.” They spoke in unison.

That same pressure from earlier reappeared. Bit by bit it pressed down on his chest and shoulders.

Don’t let go.

“I can’t,” He could hear Jack’s voice but he couldn’t see him. “Wouldn’t someone else be better suited?”

Wait, was this about the promotion? Why was this a nightmare?

“Reyes has been assigned his own task. He insisted we ask you.”

That was a lie. He didn’t know about this at all until Jack brought it up. Did those bastards lie to him? To make him take the job?

The pressure got worse by the second. Gabriel was having trouble breathing but he kept hanging on.

Don’t let go.

“I’m not a leader.” Jack said. The wall of shadowed faces faded out. “Hey! No! I’m not-”

Everything was dark. A low growl cut through the silence and Gabriel could feel fear rising up his spine. He tried to call out but his chest hurt. His muscles could barely move under the gravity around him.

“You’re no leader.” A voice taunted. “You’re a dog. You follow. You obey. You’re incapable on your own.”

Gabriel wished he could tell them to shut the hell up. He wished, but his lungs weren’t even working now. Any more of this and he swore his legs would break.

“Everything special about you came from someone else.”

It felt like the voice was talking to him now.

“You can’t carry that weight.”

“You’ll just let them down.”

His chest burned from the lack of air. He wondered if his vision was going spotty but there was still nothing but black.

Then he saw something, two red dots fading in. A line of sharp white teeth followed, shaped into a snarl.

Don’t let go.

He wouldn’t. He didn’t dare. Not now. Not ever.

The image in front of him was going hazy. He swore he felt his ribs cracking.

“Gabriel.” Whitefang’s voice was distant, muffled. “Gabriel!”

The creature in front of him lunged.

The second after his eyes flew open he gasped for air. He sat up so fast that his vision turned into nothing but spots. The pressure vanished but his muscles still echoed the pain. He kept on breathing, begging the dizziness to pass.

No. Jack.

Gabriel swore as he turned to his partner. Jack was still asleep, eyebrows pressed together and showing his fangs.

Gabriel knew one wrong move could result in those sinking into his arm.

Didn’t matter. He gently touched Jack’s face, feeling him flinch.

“Wake up, mi luna. It’s a dream. I’m right here.”

Soothing words had little effect. A whimper escaped Jack’s throat.

“Jack.” He called louder. This time the fire in his palms worked and he ran his thumb over Jack’s cheek.

Finally Jack opened his eyes, startled. Gabriel gave him a moment to glance around, not moving his hands.

“You’re safe, mi luna.”

“Gabe?” Jack sputtered. “The hell happened?”

“Nightmare dragged you in.”

Jack’s breathing slowed down but only so much. He ran a hand over his face, flinching when he touched fangs.

“Were you dreaming about your promotion?”

Jack went cold under his fingers. “How did you know?”

“I saw it.”

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry Gabe.”

“Jack.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get wrapped into that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack blinked and finally looked at him. “What?”

“That pressure Jack. I thought it was just me, that being in your head was messing with me, but it was you.” He paused, running over the rest of the events that occurred. “Is that what I was feeling when I got there?”

“Gabe.”

“Was your wolf covering for you?”

Jack cringed and looked away.

He resumed the soothing motions of his thumb. “Jackie please, talk to me. What’s going on?”

It was a long, painful silence. Jack’s eyes stayed fixed on the hotel nightstand. With everything so quiet, Gabriel realized it was raining outside.

“They should have chosen someone else to be strike commander.” Jack’s eyes looked so lost.

“Huh? Come on Jack, you know that’s not true.”

A cold, icy glare was the response to that. Jack shot up, forcing Gabriel to let go.

“Isn’t it? I can’t begin to think of a good reason for them to choose me. You know it’s probably PR or something. You would do far better. Ana would.”

“Hey,” Gabriel grabbed his shoulders. “Jack, you earned this.”

“That’s a lie.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” The fangs were back. “I’ve been riding your coat tail since day one. All the plans, strategies, final decisions, they were all yours. You’re the one who put an end to this. Why wouldn’t they choose you?”

“Because I didn’t do it alone. I couldn’t have done it alone. You won’t have to either.”

“That’s a lie.”

Gabriel pressed his anger back. “The hell? Ana’s here. Torb’s here. Reinhardt’s here.”

“But you won’t be.”

He froze. The sparks under his skin sputtered out. “What?”

“Blackwatch HQ is set to be in another country, Gabe.” Jack rolled his shoulders but stopped when he realized that Gabriel wasn’t going to let go. “You’ll be there. Somewhere else.”

“We have phones you know.”

His sarcastic remark was met with a glare. “But you won’t be here. You won’t be watching my back.”

Gabriel though about that lonely and empty sensation from earlier. So this is where it was coming from.

“Besides, Blackwatch? Why would they put you there of all places.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a healer, Gabe.” Jack reached up and took both of his hands. “You’re meant to be saving lives.”

“And you’re not?”

He didn’t like the silence that followed that question.

“You’re not just some attack dog, Jack.”

His partner’s gaze shot up, wide and fearful.

“You’re not. And if anyone says otherwise bring them to me.”

“I’m not a leader, Gabe.”

“That’s a lie.” He used Jack’s words.

“No it’s not. I can’t make those big decisions. I don’t know how they expect me to make them for everyone else.”

Pressure. Yet again, Jack was trying to carry it all on his shoulders, as if he had to.

Gabriel took a deep breath, pulling his hands back before shoving Jack onto the bed. Before his partner could get up he pinned him down, hands on his cheeks.

“Jack, listen to me, okay?”

He seemed taken aback by something when he nodded.

“You earned this. I know you might not think so because you’re looking at everything from the wrong angle, but you did. Plans? Tactics? Strategies? It’s all good to have, but that’s shit you can learn, shit you’ve been learning. You know what I can’t teach? I can’t teach a man how to calm down a group of frightened kids with one joke. I can’t teach a man to be so selfless he charges out on a slim chance he could save someone. Shit, Jack, I learned that from you.”

“That was reckless and stupid.” Jack tried to look away, but Gabriel shook his head.

“Yes, yes it was, but it doesn’t matter when it manages to save that many lives. ‘Stick to the plan’ is great in theory, but bad in practice. Plans go to shit left and right. Nothing wrong with breaking the rules and making new ones in order to save someone.”

“But Gabe–”

“But what? I’m not done. Your instincts are sharper than you realize. Wolf or not you always made sure people on the team were safe. Not once was I ever stressed about back-up when you were around. You always had my back, and Ana’s, and Reinhardt’s despite how much he’d go on and on about shielding us.”

“Come on, anyone would do that for their teammates.”

“Yeah, but you’d do it for anyone Jack. You’re the one who first said we should cease firing on the omnics after the god program was dead. You’re the one who pointed out they were non-hostiles. Sure, I may have stopped the omnic crisis, but you’re the one who turned the whole thing on its head.”

Jack was blushing now, that shade of pink running from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“I put you as second in command because I knew what you were capable of Jackie. I saw what you could do in SEP. I knew you’d be more than capable. You keep saying you can’t do this without me but I couldn’t have done it without you either. Maybe I had the plans, but you’re the one who put fire into everyone’s souls. I’ve never been good at speeches, but you? I could leave you alone with a group of jet lagged soldiers and suddenly they’d be rioting to get out there and get to work. You inspire people Jack. That’s why I figured they chose you. That’s why I knew they chose right because that’s what the world needs now. They don’t just need a tactician, they need inspiration.”

Jack’s eyes shown with tears before he blinked them away. That blush had crawled down his neck all the way to his shoulders and god damn Gabriel loved it.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” His voice cracked.

“You can.”

“I’m scared.”

“That’s okay.” Gabriel pressed their foreheads together and pulled him close enough that he could feel Jack’s eyelashes brush over his skin. “But are you going to face that head on? Or run away.”

Jack chuckled, a hand running over the back of Gabriel’s neck. “If I’m honest, I thought about it once. I thought about just you and me, getting out of here, finding a place of our own. Letting someone else take over. Then I realized how selfish that sounded.”

“Mi luna, you’re only human. It’s about time you stopped trying to make yourself so much bigger than you really are. That kind of pressure’s going to kill you.”

“I know,” His smile widened. “You’ve told me a hundred times.”

“Then listen,” Gabriel bumped their heads together before they both started laughing. He enjoyed the sound, enjoyed it mixing in with the soft rain outside, but something was missing.

“What time is it?” He asked as he sat up.

Jack seemed to pout from the lack of contact but looked over at the clock. “Twelve after two.”

“Guess we should sleep more.” Gabriel stood up and wandered over to the hotel window. He thought about throwing the drapes open but knew that the media would have a field day if they caught them both in here. Instead he nudged it to the side as he messed with the window latch. The window only opened so far and he let out a frustrated growl as he considered just breaking it.

Still, it was enough, he could smell the rain by now as the cool air blew in. He rested his head against it for a moment, feeling the cold glass as he shut his eyes. He imagined they were somewhere else.

“Gabe?”

Jack was sitting up now, frowning. His eyes were doing that glowing thing again. It might be creepy if Gabriel wasn’t so used to it by now.

He couldn’t help his smile, crossing the room in a heartbeat. The moment he could reach Jack he pulled him into a kiss, feeling that late night stubble scratch against his skin. He smiled, unable to stop his giggling which made it much harder to give Jack a proper kiss. Soon his partner was laughing as well, rubbing their noses together instead as the pair of them collapsed back onto the bed.

“Te amo, Jackie. Mi luna. Mi amor.”

“Love you too, Gabi.” He chimed out the nickname. “Sunshine. Light of my life.”

“You’re so freaking gay.”

“Excuse me,” Jack’s laughter became louder. “But I’m the bisexual. You’re the gay one.”

“After what you just said? Are you sure?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who literally wrote an entire song about my eyes.”

“You make blue look good, okay?”

“Gay.”

Gabriel grabbed his pillow and lightly smacked Jack in the face. His partner didn’t hesitate to retaliate with a much harder hit. The fight was on, Gabe already tossing the sheets over Jack’s face to block his vision. Gabriel smacked him again, but didn’t see the hit coming in on his left. He grinned when he tackled Jack, trying to pin him down, but both of them hit the nightstand instead. The lamp on it wobbled for a moment before Gabriel’s arm shot out to catch it.

For a moment everything froze. Gabriel’s other hand held Jack up and away from falling onto the floor. His partner finally pulled the blanket off his face, studying what had just happened.

When their gazes met the laughter returned. Jack wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck, pulling himself back onto the bed.

“I hate thinking that we won’t be able to do this anymore.” His partner mumbled and tightened his grip.

“I know,” Gabriel had considered it too, but he refused to think it’d be the last chance they had. They’d get another one, someday, maybe something more permanent. “Do you really want to know what I was thinking about, watching that sunrise?”

“What?”

“This,” He pressed his face into Jack’s shoulder. “Us, somewhere else, no PR or anything. Sometime in the early morning, but it’s raining out. Window’s open, smells like dew and rainwater. Maybe I’m humming a song while you read or maybe we’re dozing off again, I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter what we do. We’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Gabe.”

“Hm?”

He felt something sharp brush against his neck. “I kind of... don’t want to sleep now.”

“Whoa,” His whole face went hot. “Slow down there. Gotta get some towels first. I am not explaining to the hotel staff why there’s god damn blood all over their pillows.”

“Better be quick,” Jack very lightly bit down on his skin. “You don’t get to say something that poetic and run off.”

“Fine, but you have to get off me first.”

Jack just hummed before he bit down a bit harder, running his tongue over it. Gabriel couldn’t stop the noise that escaped his throat and frowned when he felt Jack laughing against his skin.

“Jackass.”

“Asshole.”