#i swear there's a word for this that would work here but

[peachylynnie]

gift exchange

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which you get sick on christmas, and sylus is there to make it better.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating but sylus is down bad), christmas themes, a singular reference to his myth, a singular reference to grassland romance, mentions and consumption of food, suggestive themes, cursing, angst, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick. again. on christmas too. you know what that means. sylus time! on a related note, i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas. my rafayel fic is gonna upload soon as well. enjoy! reblogs and comments always welcome! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

you curse as you rip open a hot chocolate packet. "sick on christmas," you grumble as you pour the contents into a mug. "how the fuck is that even possible."

of course, anyone can get sick at any time. it's inevitable. but, seriously? of all the days the pain in your throat and ears could have appeared, it just HAD to be on fucking christmas day. sure, it's not like you had any plans. normally you would celebrate with grandma and caleb by feasting on countless dishes and singing christmas songs from an old karaoke machine caleb swears isn't broken. but they're not around anymore.

you sigh miserably as you trudge over to the water dispenser for hot water, not wanting to think about your lost family. as you press the button for hot water, you lean against the dispenser, trying to figure out what you're going to do for the rest of the day. you were planning on visiting the market to make a nice dinner or perhaps order takeout at your favorite restaurant. but those are no longer viable options since your throat is killing you and your ears are incessantly burning. maybe you can order delivery? but that means you're going to have to clean up afterward, and you did NOT want to clean anything at the moment, especially with the state you're in.

shaking your head, you bring your mug back to the kitchen counter and search for a spoon.

"water for hot chocolate? i'm disappointed, sweetie."

you jump, an "oh, fuck!" leaving your mouth. sylus had materialized in front of you, a plastic bag in his left hand and a present box in his right. not like you noticed though. you were too startled by his sudden appearance. "what the fuck, sylus?! can't you knock?!"

"no," he deadpans, placing the bag and box on the kitchen counter. his fingers make quick work of untying the double knot on the bag. "besides," he spares you a glance. "i don't think someone who uses water to make their hot chocolate deserves a knock."

you roll your eyes. of course he fixates on that and doesn't explain why he's in your crappy apartment slandering you instead of downing at LEAST three glasses of wine in his luxurious penthouse on christmas day too. "well, screw me for being lazy, i guess," you mumble, crossing your arms.

"don't tempt me."

"huh?"

"what?"

you shoot him a look before grabbing your mug and heading to the other side of the kitchen counter. sitting on your squeaky high chair, you ask, "why are you here, sylus?"

he takes out a styrofoam container and opens its lid. immediately, the comforting smell of miso greets you. as sylus opens a cabinet to retrieve a pot (you don't question how he knows where to find it), you try to look at what else is in the plastic bag. tilting your upper body, you notice another container and hope it has some rice inside. what you don't notice is sylus' breath hitching when he turns back to you after pouring the miso soup into the pot and turning on the stove.

you were wearing a nice, loose top in your favorite color. except, its neck portion was completely cut off, leaving your collarbone and shoulders deliciously exposed. and because you were leaning on your side to take a look at what he had brought you (he loves when you're curious about anything involving him), the sleeve was slowly yet surely sliding down your arm, threatening to show a cup of your bra.

sylus instantly turns back to the stove, even though the miso soup shows no signs of boiling. rubbing a hand over his face, he shakes his head. no, he's not here to ogle at you (the top looks really good on you, and fuck, did your bra cup your breasts really nicely). he's here to take care of you. earlier, mephisto alerted him you were taking some cough drops. and knowing you, you probably didn't have any food on hand to sustain you through your sickness, given his last (secret) visit to your apartment to stock your (empty) fridge. taking a deep breath, sylus returns to the kitchen counter, reaching for the other container. he notices your inquisitive eyes.

"i'm here because it's christmas." he opens the container, and to your delight, it's omurice. marveling at how fluffy the omelette looks and how savory the fried rice appears, you almost miss his answer.

"huh?" you frown. "you're here because it's christmas?"

"is that not what i just said?" sylus jests as he plates the omurice and places it in your microwave.

"well," you start carefully. "shouldn't you have better things to do? like take luke and kieran shopping or pop open another bottle of wine because woo! christmas!"

the silver-haired man shakes his head with a chuckle, propping his hands on the kitchen counter. you try not to focus on his exposed forearms too much. forget the omurice and miso soup; you'll take his arms instead.

"first of all, luke and kieran are busy—"

"on christmas?!"

"yes, sweetie, on christmas." he raises a brow at you for interrupting. you drag your sleeve back up sheepishly.

"second of all, what makes you think i haven't already indulged in a bottle of wine today?" he tilts his head and crosses his arms, gazing at you with a hint of amusement in his ruby eyes.

you pout and look away. "fair point, i guess."

enjoying your cute reaction, sylus returns his attention to the stove. pleased to find the miso soup boiling, he turns off the stove and takes out a bowl from your cabinet (again, how does he know where to find that?). using a ladle to pour into the bowl, he hums a little tune. you try not to snicker at how terrible he sounds. after sliding a bowl of soup and a plate of omurice to you, sylus plants his elbows on the counter and rests his chin on a palm, allowing him a perfect view of his beloved (though you don't know you're his beloved yet; luke and kieran called him a loser before getting their asses handed to them).

"uh," you look at sylus, then at the food, and then sylus again. "you're not going to eat?"

he shakes his head. "i already ate before coming here."

hesitantly, you pick up your utensils. "you know you technically haven't answered my question, right?"

"i'll tell you once you finish." sylus responds immediately. it's almost as if he knew what you were going to say.

no longer wanting to torture your stomach, you cut into the omurice and take a bite. "mmm!" you cover your mouth as you chew. the softness of the egg, the savoriness of the fried rice—oh, you're in heaven. "this tastes really good, sylus!" you take a sip of the miso soup as well. not only does the warm broth soothe your throat, but the spice that comes with it clears up your sinuses, ceasing the burn in your ears.

the man in front of you can't help but smile at the sight. you, in your most vulnerable, beautiful state, enjoying his cooking. he could die a happy man here. and it wouldn't be the first time his cause of death is you. not that he minds or anything.

"thank you, sylus." you take a few more bites before swallowing. "seriously, i needed this."

"i know, sweetie," he says gently. "i know."

you glare at him, but not with as much malice as you used to. "did mephisto snitch on me or something?"

sylus lets out a laugh before grabbing the present box and joining you on the other side of the counter. "he simply saw a poor little hunter in need of some saving."

"since when does being sick mean needing saving?" you mutter as you set your utensils down, having finished the meal. you make a mental note to ask where he got the food. you're definitely going to visit wherever this exquisite meal came from (the man sitting next to you would die if he knew you wanted to visit his place).

sylus hands you the present box, causing your eyes to widen as you finally process its existence. "merry christmas, sweetie."

instead of accepting it, you jump out of your seat and dash to your room, though not without yelling a "wait here!" your heart beats rapidly as you open your closet door, your eyes landing on a small box wrapped in glossy black paper. yes, you were planning on spending christmas alone. yes, you were planning on giving this to sylus as nonchalantly as possible AFTER christmas (as much as he infuriates you, you still wanted to gift him something. why? you're not sure). and yet, here you are, holding the gift to your chest as you sprint back to the kitchen. "here," you pant as you thrust your gift into his lap. "merry christmas, sylus."

now it's his turn to be surprised. peering at what you just put in his lap, sylus can't help but blush profusely. you gifted him something. you actually gifted him something. you went out of your way to buy something for him. you thought of him. sylus brings a hand to his mouth, his fingers gripping the sides of his face hard. oh, you're too much. it's taking him everything to not crash himself into you and hold you tightly with his arms, to press himself so deeply into you until there is no chance in heaven or hell you could be separated from him.

"sylus?" you snap him out of his thoughts. "you okay?"

he blinks. "ah." releasing his face from his grip, sylus looks at you with a composed smile. "i'm alright, sweetie. thank you for the gift," he says as he starts unwrapping.

"it's not much," you say shyly. "thank you for your gift too. i'll open it after you finish opening yours."

sylus nods as he opens the box. his lips part when he finds what lies inside. a pair of black gloves, thermal lined with genuine fleece and adorned with adjustable straps. but most importantly, embroidery by your hands. he could recognize your handiwork anywhere thanks to your previous adventure in the grasslands. the white dove delicately sewn into the wrist of the right glove and the initials of his name intricately engraved into the wrist of the left. the man can't help but smile for the umpteenth time tonight. you really were something else.

"i noticed you wear fingerless gloves whenever you ride your motorcycle," you start as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. "as stylish as they are, mr. sylus," you tease. "i think it's better to have gloves that keep you warm during late-night joyrides, especially now since it's winter." finding the courage to grin at him, you conclude your explanation with, "merry christmas, sylus."

sylus swears he sees an angel sitting next to him. how could you not be an angel? with the way you're smiling at him right now? and the amount of thought you put into this gift? (he's trying not to obsess over the fact that you observe him whenever he rides his motorcycle.) the head of onychinus has never believed in angels. but now, he does. thanks to you.

"thank you, sweetie," he tries to say as calmly as possible. "i will cherish them." when he attempts to put the gloves on, you stop him.

"wait, you don't need to put them on yet! you're going to get hot."

"it's fine," sylus assures as he secures the straps. "i want to."

"okay," you flush, happy that he likes the gift. "let me open yours now."

you wonder why his box is so heavy as your fingers rip off the tape. a gasp escapes your mouth as the wrapping paper falls to the ground. "sylus," you tremble. "i can't accept this."

a record player. a sleek, gorgeous record player with an obsidian platter, supported by a mahogany base and a crystal case. you stroke the tonearm, dragging your index finger all the way to the headshell and relishing in the cool feeling the metal provides. "sylus…" you trail off.

"there's more, sweetie." he murmurs. out of thin air, sylus materializes several vinyls with his evol. your eyes widen, recognizing the images that lie at the center of each disc.

"oh my god, sylus!" your favorite band, he got you vinyl records of each album from your favorite band. they've never even had vinyl records before. holy fucking shit. "sylus!" you chant excitedly, leaping into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. "sylus! you shouldn't have! oh my god!"

you jump up and down eagerly, leaving the man stunned in his chair. his arms are outstretched, unsure what to do for the first time ever. you freeze, realizing the position you are in. "oh uh," you quickly retract from him, a red hue forming on your cheeks. "sorry about that." you go to sit back down in your chair, but sylus doesn't let you. he pulls you back to him with an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head. standing at full height, the head of onychinus hugs you tightly, so tightly it's as if he never wants to let you go. you hesitate before returning the hug, questioning the man's motives. but he doesn't say or do anything. just stands embracing you. realizing he bears no ill will, you pat his back playfully. "you know i'm sick, right?"

his grip doesn't loosen. "yes, i know."

"you're going to get sick, sylus," you tease, trying to pull away. as much as you appreciate his warmth, the last thing you want is for him to get sick. just the thought of it strikes fear in your heart. you're not sure why. "come on, let go."

sylus sighs before untangling his arms and sitting back down. he'll give in for now. besides, he wouldn't trade that elated look on your face when he revealed the records for anything in the world. he supposes he can enjoy such a view some more.

you giggle excitedly as you examine the vinyl records. "oh, should i play this one first? oh, what about this one? no way! you got this one too?!"

as always, you don't catch the woozy, lovesick smile that appears on sylus' face as he folds his arms and leans back to admire you. if this is what christmas with you is going to look like in the future, sylus desperately hopes you'll spend every christmas with him from now on. but, just to be sure, because nothing is guaranteed in the future, he follows your example and says for the second time of the night, "merry christmas, sweetie."

[bvidzsoo]

Is Santa the new Cupid?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x gender neutral reader

❆ Warning: none, no usage of Y/N ❆ Word count: 5.9k ❆ Rating: sfw ❆ Genre: holiday themed, office romance, mutual pinning, brother's best friend, fluff ❆ Summary: With the holiday's rolling around, everyone is in a festive spirit. You're not a huge fan of Christmas, but your brother is, so, he organises a Secret Santa themed party at work. What you don't expect, however, is for him to scheme to try and bring you together with your work crush.

A/N: ~Ho, ho, ho, @hee0soo your Secret Santa is here! ^^ I hope this story is to your liking and that you will enjoy it! As for everyone else, hello, my lovelies! This is a little event I partook in, and I'd like to thank @cromernet for hosting it, being in this server has been nothing but a pleasure! <3 To those who celebrate it, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and to those who don't, a well earned rest and an overall joyful time! I hope everyone will enjoy this little piece, and if I don't write anything in the upcoming days, then I wish you a Happy New Year, and I shall see you in the next year! Thank you for being here and for supporting me, for all the feedback and kindness, you make writing a little more pleasant! I'll let you go on and read now, I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is always appreciated! <33 divider

            The holidays had always been a mess. No matter where you looked, people were stressing about getting the perfect gifts, the most glamorous outfits, the best seasoning for their food, and the most colourful decorations they could get their hands on. The sight was enough to send you into another spiral of why you thought this whole fussing about a celebration—that not everyone celebrates, by the way—was so unnecessary and only damaging your health, raising your cortisol levels. But alas, this is how the world worked, and you couldn’t go against it. Your flat was minimally decorated, and you were still debating whether you’d get a Christmas tree this year or not. There was no point in throwing out money if you weren’t wholeheartedly in tune with the whole holiday…that is unless your nosy brother decides to take over your flat like last year and turn it into a whole Christmas fest. You swear you were finding glitter even a month later in places like your salt shaker and the medical cabinet in your bathroom. Seonghwa loved everything shiny, so when his lovely sibling refused to abide by his wishes, he put his persuasive skills to use and coerced you into the most blinding corset you could have ever found. Which brings us to the current time, with you hiding out in your brother’s office and furiously scrubbing at the stained red glitter. Nothing was working, your co-worker’s red wine would be forever embedded into your pricey piece of clothing.

You didn’t blame him, it was an unfortunate accident. The waiter was walking by with a tray filled with cheese when your co-worker had thrust his hand backwards, calling for a disaster. Which happened mere seconds later when the beverage sloshed all over your chest and the top of the sweetheart neckline of your corset. You sighed as you gave it one last try, perhaps if you put more passion into it then you might be able to make the stain fade a little bit. The fabric of the corset was a bright red and the dark stain was rather visible despite the glittery studs that covered it. You had told Seonghwa that the outfit was a bit too much for an office Christmas party, but he only told you to suck it up and wear it unless you didn’t want to be on theme. Which you were, thanks to your brother, except that seemingly everyone else had gone for more casual or silly outfits, and here were you…wearing a sexy sparkly—now ruined—corset, and some black wide-legged pants that hid the stilettos which matched the colour of your top. With a frustrated groan, you flopped into the chair placed in front of your brother’s desk and closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

You would’ve further ruined the fabric at this point if you kept on scrubbing the way you were, and that would be a waste of Seonghwa’s money…since he was the one to get you this outfit. He was rather pushy this year, it was suspicious, but you didn’t question it. Your brother had always been a bit weird, particular about the things he liked, and a perfectionist in everything he did…but at least he spoiled you well, so you couldn’t really complain. The cacophony of the ongoing party from beyond the door reminded you that you couldn’t hide out in your brother’s office anymore, so you took a deep breath and told yourself that everyone would understand how the stain got there without ridiculing you. Your co-worker already felt terrible for being so clumsy, and you weren’t even mad at him. The door which you had left ajar was suddenly flung open, and your eyes widened when you saw who had walked inside. Great, just what you needed…your work crush to see you in this state of despair when today was supposed to be filled with jolliness. You quickly stood and dusted off your pants out of habit, trying to keep yourself calm and collected…which was something you often failed to do in Kim Hongjoong’s presence.

He wore something similar, suspiciously, and for a millisecond you wondered if this was Seonghwa’s work, who wasn’t just your brother, but also Hongjoong’s best friend. When you say work crush…you mean the longest crush you’ve had on anyone since you’ve been hopelessly pinning on Hongjoong since like…high school. Embarrassing, but you were a few years younger, and Hongjoong was too cool to notice you or regard you as anyone else than his best friend’s younger sibling. Hongjoong’s cat-like eyes widened as the two of you stared at each other wordlessly, and you realized his blazer looked an awful lot like your corset. It was the same shade and had the same sparkly studs, the shoulders were puffed out, and it was cropped, stopping right above Hongjoong’s waist. He had always been stylish, and he loved going all out at events like this one. His long black pants reached below his ankles, and the huge black bow tied around his waist truly elevated the whole look. His satin white shirt was spotless, unlike your stained corset. You wished you had something to cover it with…you supposed perfectionism ran in the family, after all.

“Hi.” Hongjoong broke your wordless staring contest, and you gulped down your nerves, trying to smile at him. You’ve been working together for two years, for God’s sake, you couldn’t freeze anytime Hongjoong even as much as looked at you.

“Hi.” You greeted back lamely, and you were thankful that your voice wasn’t squeaky at least. Hongjoong’s eyes took a quick sweep of your body, and you fought against yourself to keep at bay the blush blooming over your cheeks.

“Is everything okay?” Hongjoong, the ever-considerate guy he was, asked with a concerned look on his face, “I saw you storm off and…I thought maybe something happened.”

How could you not have a crush on this man when he acted like this?

“Oh, I’m alright, don’t worry.” Except that you weren’t exactly, and you knew he could see it on your face, so, you sighed defeated, “Well, okay, Mingi spilt his wine on me and now my corset is stained…and I hate it because everyone can see it.”

You were pouting as you looked down at the darker spot on your corset, and maybe you became a bit sulkier when Hongjoong just chuckled. He looked adorable with his lips curling upward, fighting the urge to outwardly laugh in your face. That was nice of him, you were glad he was nice enough to not make fun of you…not that Hongjoong would make fun of anyone, he was the first one to shut down even the hint of bullying if he came across it.

“Sounds like it’s the end of the world,” Hongjoong teased you, and you rolled your eyes in exchange, “Did you bring a blazer?”

“No,” You shook your head, flopping back down on the chair, “Only a huge fur coat, and I can’t wear that in here…especially since it’s white and people like Mingi exist.”

That made Hongjoong laugh as he nodded, his eyebrows furrowing in thought, “Well, I also suppose you didn’t bring a backup outfit?”

“No, Hongjoong,” You sighed, “Not everyone is as well prepared as you are.”

He hummed knowingly, his office having a wardrobe dedicated to outfits Hongjoong brought in for emergency meetings or occasions. He was well prepared, and most importantly, always well dressed. He had been like that since high school, wearing the edgiest outfits he could find, painting his nails, and experimenting with his hairstyles. Something he hadn’t stopped doing ever since, hence his two-coloured hair at the moment. His middle part was perfect, the left side of his hair bleached blonde while the right side remained a raven black. It looked good on him, too good, and it brought back memories of when he had tried it out for the first time in his final year of college. Just remembering it made you almost blush again, the image of screaming about it into a pillow after running into Hongjoong was still too vivid in your mind.

“Allow me to help you out then, stay here.” Before you could question Hongjoong, he was already out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a racing heart. What could he possibly have in mind? You had always seen him as a creative person—I mean, he really was considering the fact he was in charge of the graphic design department—and he had never shied away from a little challenge. Except that, he wasn’t facing a challenge right now, and you wondered what he had in mind since it brought that excited glint in his eyes, it happened whenever he thought of something brilliant. Because honestly, all of Hongjoong’s ideas were brilliant. You couldn’t help but admire him for being always ahead of the deadlines and thinking up new innovative ways that made you the best on the market. He was a great asset to your brother’s company, everyone valued and respected Hongjoong for all the dedication and hard work he put into his craft.

You were startled out of your thoughts as Hongjoong returned, holding a satin shirt on a green hanger. He had a grin on his lips as you stood, watching him approach you, ultimately making your heart hammer in your chest.

“So, you can borrow this for the evening.” Hongjoong said with a smile, taking the shirt off the hanger as he came to stand in front of you, “It’ll cover up the stain, and won’t make you feel too warm either.”

“Oh, I…that’s so kind of you, but I can’t accept it—”

“Nonsense,” Hongjoong chuckled, brushing you off without hesitation, “Do you want me to help you wear it?”

That would’ve been really embarrassing, so you quickly shook your head and took the shirt from his hands, your fingers accidentally brushing. Your cheeks were burning, and you avoided looking Hongjoong in the eyes as you carefully wore his shirt, trying to keep your screaming thoughts at bay. This felt like a daydream taken straight out of your teenage years. The seventeen-year-old you would be fainting right now if they were to know this would happen years later, even if Hongjoong wasn’t your boyfriend. The fabric was soft and didn’t feel suffocating, and you tried to ignore Hongjoong’s expensive cologne that seemed to cling to it. It had a hint of sweetness in it, but it was rather masculine and woody otherwise. And despite your family being gifted by the gods of height, you didn’t inherit that gene, which made you smaller than even Hongjoong, who wasn’t the tallest of people. The sleeves of the shirt covered your fingers, only your sparkly red nails visible—which was another scheme pulled by Seonghwa. You rarely did your nails red, let alone sparkly.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You said quietly, trying not to chew on your bottom lip since it would ruin your lipgloss, making your teeth tinted. And then, as if your heart wasn’t about to malfunction already, Hongjoong stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. You froze and peeked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as a soft smile appeared on his lips. A few black strands fell into his eyes, and you could tell he had used a bit of dark eyeshadow to sharpen his eyes more, giving it depth. His skin was perfect and his pretty lips were red from the cherry lip balm he’s been using since forever.

“There, now it’s perfect,” Hongjoong muttered more to himself, still smoothing down the collar as he started helping you button up the shirt since you had forgotten you were supposed to do that in the first place. Your fingers trembled slightly from the adrenaline rush in your system, and you bit your bottom lip when your knuckles brushed against Hongjoong’s as your hands met while doing the buttons. Hongjoong huffed in amusement, then grabbed your arms to look at the sleeves. You watched him as you let him do as he wished, and he rolled up the sleeve twice so that it would fit you nicely. He looked gorgeous from up close, especially when he was in his element, doing what he liked the most. Sometimes you wondered why he hadn’t become a stylist, his vision was so beautiful, and you had seen the sketches he had made recently. You just knew his brand would be successful all around the world, his designs delicate and modest, but elegant and full of glamour. Now that the shirt was all done, all you had to do was put the hem inside your pants so that you didn’t look like you had just gotten out of bed and borrowed your boyfriend’s clothes.

You blushed even harder at the thought of Hongjoong being your boyfriend, and you were alarmed to find him already looking at you when you peeked at him. Hongjoong’s ears were redder than before, and he had a sheepish smile on his face. His cheeks were dusted a light pink too, and you wondered if his heart was racing as much as yours. You cleared your throat to thank him for his help when there was a loud knock on the open door, making you both jump. Hongjoong whirled around and awkwardly put some distance between you and himself as Seonghwa’s otherwise round eyes were now sharp and narrowed, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Would you look at that! The two who were missing from the party, fraternizing in my office…” Seonghwa’s tone had a hint of teasing in it as he raised an eyebrow, his eyes slipping from you to his best friend. Hongjoong laughed awkwardly and rubbed his nape, throwing you a glance before he looked back at Seonghwa.

“I was just—”

“Is that Hongjoong’s shirt?” Seonghwa didn’t let his best friend speak as he pointed at you, now both eyebrows raised in surprise. You nodded, ready to explain yourself, but Seonghwa clearly didn’t care, “Did I miss something? Either way, it looks lovely on you, dear, even if it’s a bit too…roomy?”

“Seonghwa—”

Clearly, when your brother had set his mind onto something, he just wouldn’t listen to anyone, “I’m all for offering my office up to those in need, but maybe you should use Hongjoong’s the next time you want to cosy up. In fact—I might even give you, dear, an office. You’ve earned it after the year we had.”

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, opening your mouth to speak up, but he raised his hand, “Come on now, I’m about to make my speech and you’ll have to swap your presents.”

Right, the presents…for the person you had randomly picked out of a small vase. And that person was…Hongjoong, as cliché as that sounds. You cleared your throat as Seonghwa turned his back to you and Hongjoong, who gave you a curt nod and followed after his best friend in order to give you privacy so you could fix the shirt. You took a deep breath and stuffed the fabric into your pants, glad that you had worn a belt since it cut the outfit in half nicely.

The company was packed with employees, everyone looking excited as Seonghwa made his way towards the fake podium he had giddily asked Hongjoong to make for him. He had a microphone and everything to make it more enjoyable for him, all placed in front of the massive Christmas tree that had been a hassle to get inside the office, but also to decorate. Your brother’s company wasn’t huge, and that was exactly why it worked so well. Everyone was eager to move forward and make something bigger than them, so the community was tight-knit and hard-working. You were on the sales team, not quite in the leader position yet, but you were getting there. You enjoyed what you did and that was all that mattered, plus, the paycheck was pretty nice. And anytime you didn’t like something, you could always bug the CEO until he finally gave in to you…those were the perks of involving your family with your business, much to Seonghwa’s dismay at times.

You took your place behind your tallest co-workers, who were huddled together and watching something on Yunho’s phone. The waiter walked towards you and handed you a glass of champagne to toast with once your brother was done with his speech, and you couldn’t help but grin when Hongjoong came to stand next to you. He returned your grin, and when you looked away, he continued to stare at you with adoration, thinking to himself how cute you looked wearing his shirt. Hongjoong quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on his best friend, who was standing on the podium made by him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this little party. I am more than elated to announce that we have come close to another end of year where I can confidently say our company’s been doing better than ever. I am proud and happy to have a team so dedicated as you guys, and I hope the next year holds even greater things for us. Maybe the next party will be held on a private island, at the company’s expense, of course.” People chuckled around you, everyone was well aware you weren’t doing that well yet, but that was the goal. Mingi noticed you stood behind him and gave you a pout, making you pat his shoulder as Yunho glanced between you and Hongjoong, then grinned, “We’ve had our ups and downs this year, perhaps have faced even more challenges than before, but with everyone’s help, we pushed through and made the biggest profit of the company so far. I truly am so proud of each one of you, because, without you, I wouldn’t be standing here, able to live the dreams I’ve had since I was a kid. Before I end my speech, I’d like to especially thank Kim Hongjoong for bringing in our biggest partner, and for having great ideas that pushed our company towards success. When we were teenagers, everything that we have today was just a far-fetched dream, and now…we have it, Hongjoong, we did it, brother. I think it’s time we celebrate as we should.”

Everyone cheered as you watched your brother get teary-eyed, looking at Hongjoong with deep respect and love on his face. Hongjoong raised his glass of champagne and tipped it in Seonghwa’s direction, his composure collected, but you could see he had gotten a bit teary-eyed too. You smiled fondly as you watched your brother run his fingers through his long hair, a habit when he was nervous, and then he raised his glass, prompting the others to do so as well.

“Let us celebrate now, but please don’t mess up the electricity wiring like last year, I still have no idea how that happened…” Everyone looked amused as Seonghwa shook his head, then tipped his champagne back, and you followed as you took an experimental sip. It was a bit bitter and too bubbly, but you took a larger gulp out of respect for Seonghwa, “And now, let us open the presents! I hope nobody forgot whose Secret Santa they were!”

Right, the dreaded moment had come. You handed your glass of champagne to Yunho when you noticed he was already finished with his, and he gave you a wink as he quickly downed your champagne too. Now that the moment everyone had been waiting for came, you all migrated towards the big round table that was littered with gifts inside wrapping paper and small winter-themed bags. Yours was a smaller package with a blue font and white snowflakes on it, placed right in the middle of the table. You waited until you made it closer to the table, then leaned over to grab it with sweaty hands. You were nervous, but you were more scared that Hongjoong would hate his present. You truly hoped he didn’t, but then again, even if he did, you’d never be able to tell…Hongjoong had a great poker face. You turned around and looked for him, only to find him already approaching you. Surely, he wasn’t…wait, you quickly looked towards your brother, who was already watching you with an amused smirk. God, this is why you didn’t like telling Seonghwa anything about your crushes…he had always meddled, even back in high school.

You wanted the earth to eat you up as Hongjoong smiled at you sweetly, looking a bit embarrassed as he came to stand in front of you, “So, uh, we meet again.”

God, he could be so awkward at times, you chuckled embarrassed, “Right, as if we weren’t standing next to each other a second ago.”

But you weren’t better either, Mingi and Yunho, who had also somehow picked each other, snorted as they passed by you and Hongjoong, having overheard your conversation. Gosh, this was so embarrassing, you wanted to flip Seonghwa off and then drag him to his office and lecture him. You were pretty sure this wasn’t done by accident, there was no way on earth both Hongjoong and you had picked each other randomly.

“So, I know you don’t like the whole holiday season that much, but uhm, Merry Christmas.” Hongjoong handed you his gift with both hands, his eyes twinkling with excitement, and suddenly you didn’t hate the thought of gift-giving and receiving that much. You took your gift and handed him his.

“Merry Christmas, Hongjoong, and thank you for the gift too.” It felt awkward standing like that there, facing each other like two strangers, so you took your courage in your hands and stepped forward to hug him. Hongjoong’s eyes widened once he realised your intention, but he opened his arms as you came to hold his torso, making sure you wouldn’t dirty his blazer with your makeup despite it being transfer-proof. You could feel your heart hammer against your chest, and you hoped Hongjoong couldn’t feel it as he embraced you, holding you close as suddenly slow music started playing through the speakers. You knew it was Seonghwa’s doing because you could practically feel his eyes on you, but you ignored your annoying brother and focused on Hongjoong’s warmth instead. But to your surprise, he started slowly swaying the two of you to the rhythm of the song, humming next to your ear. You were both still holding your gifts, and the distance between your bodies made it a little awkward, but you weren’t about to say anything. Hongjoong has never held you like this before, you felt like you were soaring through the sky right now as you tried not to inhale loudly, hoping his scent would never leave your nostrils.

“We might as well dance since we are already embracing…” Hongjoong muttered and you hummed, stepping closer so that you could hold each other better. Your face was beat red and your stomach was doing back flips, but you were smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You couldn’t be too sure that Hongjoong liked you back, there were small moments when he had tried getting closer or did something that was beyond a friendly gesture, but you didn’t want to face heartbreak in case this was just a one-sided crush…which it most probably was. You didn’t really think he’d finally notice you after all those years you had known each other, you also didn’t think you were much his type. He had always dated people who were like him, creative and basically in love with life, happy to be alive and ready to discover everything. You were more of the quiet type, content with living a comfortable life and never going out of your way to do too much. You liked your space and security, planning ahead and having a vision that would help you stay aligned with your purpose and wishes. Hongjoong wasn’t as organised and he went with the flow, unafraid and unapologetic. And despite the two of you being so different, you couldn’t help but find him the most interesting person you had ever come across.

            After an hour or so of dancing and enjoying your time with your co-workers, you were ready to take a breather. It was too cold outside and you were too overheated to go out, you couldn’t risk catching a cold right around the holidays, so you went back to the round table and took a seat, reaching for a clean cup to pour some peach juice for yourself. You didn’t get the chance to open your gift from Hongjoong yet, so, you grabbed it off the table again and looked through it, your eyes widening when you realised what Hongjoong had gotten for you. You had a bunny at home, a sweet little white thing called Star because it was supposed to be Seonghwa’s initially, but he had discovered he was allergic to her, so he had to give her away. Seonghwa and you had always loved bunnies, so your brother knew she was in safe hands with you. And Hongjoong, the always thoughtful person, had bought various treats for your little Star. But that wasn’t everything, a pink princess costume was packed neatly inside the bag as well, making you grin from ear to ear. Star would look lovely in that, Seonghwa will absolutely love it too once you send him pictures.

But that wasn’t all as you reached inside to grab the small jewellery box, your mouth felt a little bit dry. You paused and looked around, wanting to make sure no one was watching you, but secretly you were also looking for Hongjoong. He was on the dance floor, entertaining Yunho and Mingi who were spinning him around. Hongjoong’s cheeks were red and he kept laughing, the contagious sound reached your ears and made you smile as something warm spread through your chest. Gosh, sometimes you really wish you didn’t have a crush on the most adorable man in the whole world. Glancing back down at your last gift, you braced yourself and opened it up, only for your jaw to drop open. There, in the dainty box, sat a rose gold necklace with a diamond pendant. It wasn’t the fact that Hongjoong had gifted you a diamond necklace that made your heart race, but the fact that you’ve always wanted one in this style. Maybe some would consider you shallow, but you have always liked diamonds. They were gorgeous in the light, and if the stone wasn’t too big, it looked gorgeous. You gulped, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions because you had been mentioning the fact that you’d want to buy yourself a diamond necklace once you could afford it ever since you were just a little kid. To be fair, you had always thought Seonghwa would be the one to surprise you and gift you this, but coming from Hongjoong…you tried to gulp down the lump in your throat.

This wasn’t helping with your one-sided crush, because now all you wanted to do was run up to Hongjoong and kiss him while you cried. The fact that he had even paid enough attention to remember your biggest wish managed to knock you breathless, you needed a second to gather yourself. Your hands shook slightly as you raised it to your eyes, taking in the pendant, and admiring its beauty. It was perfect. The same size and shape you had always envisioned, it was modest and gorgeous. You released a shuddering breath just as you realised someone was approaching you, and your eyes were a little watery as you looked up. Seonghwa had a soft smile on his lips as he walked up to you, and then crouched down in front of you.

“Hey,” He greeted you softly, looking down at the necklace in your hands. He didn’t even seem surprised, he looked pleased as he hummed, looking back up at you, “You opened your presents, I see. I bet you love it, don’t you?”

“It’s a diamond necklace, Hwa,” You whispered, eyes widening slightly, “From Hongjoong. This is…crazy. I know I’ve been mentioning it for ages, but I didn’t think that he…”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at you as you trailed off, seemingly lost for words, “That he was listening? Hongjoong has always paid attention to you, dear.”

Really? Was that true? Seonghwa wouldn’t lie to you, you felt your heart race all of a sudden. Seonghwa reached out and took the necklace from your hands, walking around you once he stood up. He pulled your hair to the side and clipped the necklace in place, making you reach up to touch the pendant. It was the perfect length too, why was Hongjoong so perfect when he couldn’t even be yours? You sniffed and willed your tears to go away, pouting a little as Seonghwa walked around to come face-to-face with you again. He grinned and grabbed your hands, pulling you up.

“Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your pretty makeup,” He teased you with a wink and you groaned, bottling your feelings up for later, when you were alone and in the safety of your apartment, where only Star could witness your crying session, “I know it’s not technically Christmas yet and that we’ll see each other back home in less than three days for the annual feast, but I got you a present too.”

See, there was no denying that Seonghwa and you were siblings. You grinned and reached inside your pants pocket, grabbing the Spa Coupon you had gotten for him.

“You deserve to relax, you’ve done a lot for the company.” Seonghwa patted your head, messing up your hair a little bit in true brother fashion, “And you can’t use your phone while you’re there, dear, that’s not how you relax.”

Seonghwa handed over the small ticket, and you stared at it for a second before you burst out laughing. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, but then his face turned incredulous before he started laughing too once you handed him your gift for him. Seonghwa had bought you a Spa Coupon too, from the same place you had bought his too. You laughed as you waved your coupons at each other, already knowing you’d get a scolding from your mother for not being a bit more creative with your gifts.

“Wait, don’t tell me you got one for mom too…” Seonghwa trailed off, his eyes widening slightly.

“Let me guess, you got one for dad too?” You raised an eyebrow and Seonghwa nodded innocently, prompting you to shake your head as you both snickered.

“Well, seems like we’ll be spending some quality time as a family over the break.” Seonghwa grinned, pocketing his coupon, and then he placed his hands behind his back, looking somewhere behind you.

“Ugh, great, now mom won’t get off my back about me finding a boyfriend somehow finally.” You grimaced, not keen on going home only to listen to your mother’s nagging. She never stopped asking, never stopped trying to set you up on blind dates. It was annoying because she never did that for Seonghwa…at least you had a crush, he couldn’t even bother with that.

“Speaking of boyfriends…” Seonghwa wriggled his eyebrows and you groaned, ready to deny whatever he was about to say, but it wasn’t what you were expecting, “Did you notice you were sitting under a mistletoe?”

“What?” You muttered, looking up confused. Now how the hell did that get there? If you reckon correctly, it wasn’t there like half an hour ago, you had come to the table to grab a drink and it wasn’t there, so how—Seonghwa. The answer was always Seonghwa, “I swear to God, Hwa, you’re my brother. What are you plotting? I refuse to peck even as much as your cheek.”

“I won’t even get a hug?” Seonghwa fake pouted, his eyes glinting wickedly. Nothing good came when Seonghwa had that look in his eyes, you gulped nervously.

“No, now—”

“Fine.” Seonghwa sighed exaggeratedly, “Hate me all you want, but I’m the best brother in the world. If you won’t show me some love, I know exactly who else you could cheer up right now—Hongjoong, can you come over for a little bit?!”

Your eyes widened and you whacked Seonghwa in the chest, turning around frantically. Oh no, Hongjoong was already approaching with a skip in his step, unassuming of what he was walking up to. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was deliciously brushed back, his blazer gone and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“Yeah? You need something?” He called as he walked around the table and Seonghwa stepped aside, making your eyes widen.

“Sure, come here for a second,” Seonghwa said nonchalantly, and by the time you opened your mouth to tell Hongjoong not to fall for Seonghwa’s trap, it was too late. Seonghwa stepped aside and lightly pushed Hongjoong towards you, making both of you panic as you grabbed Hongjoong’s arm so he wouldn’t accidentally fall.

“What—”

“Attention, everyone!” Seonghwa called loudly, shouting over the music, and you were terrified. Hongjoong looked rather confused and looked at you for an answer that you couldn’t formulate at the moment, “We have our first couple under the mistletoe for the night! Now, kiss!”

Everyone was watching the two of you now, and you wanted to strangle Seonghwa as he smirked at you pleased, throwing him a wink when Hongjoong gave your brother a flabbergasted look. He slowly looked up, then back at you, and you started sweating.

“Uhm, we don’t have to, obviously. This tradition is silly, I don’t—”

But it was too late, the whole office was chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Hongjoong had turned red in the face, it went down even to his neck. He gulped and chuckled awkwardly, and you felt horrible. Of course, he wouldn’t want to kiss you, this was terrible and you felt humiliated. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and run off, Hongjoong cleared his throat.

“Well, this isn’t how I wished for our first kiss to happen, but…” He motioned around himself, at all the people staring at you expectantly, “May I kiss you?”

“You—I’m sorry, but—you want to kiss me?” You sputtered out, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“I’ve wanted to for ages.” Hongjoong chuckled and scratched the back of his head. He was blushing and so were you, your heart thudding in your chest as Hongjoong licked his lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, okay, yeah, kiss me, Hongjoong.” Damn Seonghwa and everyone else for cheering upon hearing your words, but maybe it was worth it as Hongjoong giggled while leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry, and you felt like pudding as your lips locked in an innocent peck that lasted for a second too long. You felt like a teenager all over again, and if seventeen years old you could catch a glimpse into the future and see this exact moment, she’d definitely pass out.

“So, do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“God, yes, Hongjoong, please.”

Yeah, seventeen-year-old you would not survive this.

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[anakinstwinklebunny]

SAM MONROE hadn't exactly have the best track record with decision-making. And now? Well, he was proving that point in the most impossible way imaginable.

“Sam,” you started, voice a little breathless but laced with some kind of warning

With chest still raising and falling rapidly and sweat clinging to his skin, he propped himself on one shaky arm to change position, whining about how wet everything is, how his dick hurt after the new position you suggested. You've been doing something you shouldn't really be doing, but again, here you were, catching your breath while your mind recalled the last moments, ignoring your boyfriend by your side

And then it hit you

“Hmm?” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded as he flopped down beside you, one arm lazily slung over his face.

Sam stilled for half a second, brows furrowing like he was mentally replaying the last few minutes. Then, he let out a nonchalant huff, lips twitching into that damn cocky smirk. “Yeah, of course I did. Right on time.” he dragged the last sentence with proudness

“You, uh… You pulled out, right?” Your tone had that edge of 'I already know the answer, but I need to hear you say it'

You stared at him, deadpan. “Sam. Be serious.”

“I am serious!” He pushed himself up on one elbow, gesturing with his free hand as if that would somehow make his argument more convincing. “I pulled out.. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” You sat up, glaring at him now.

Sam rolled his eyes, the smirk faltering just a little as he scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I felt like it was enough, alright? Don’t make it a whole thing.” he laid his head back down on his pillow

“A whole thing?” You practically gawked at him, your hands gesturing wildly in frustration “Sam, that’s not exactly how this works!”

He whined, covering his face with his hands. “You’re stressin’ me out now. It’s fine. You’re fine. We’re fine.”

You shot him a look that screamed nothing positive, with a lot of curse words “I swear, Sam, if you’ve--”

“Alright, alright!” he cut you off, sitting up with a dramatic sigh. Hands fell to his lap, and he looked at you with that blend of annoyance and affection only he could pull off. “Next time, I’ll--whatever, okay? Just… stop lookin’ at me like I just murdered a puppy or somethin’.”

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[probablyreadinsmut]

The Mrs Clause - Part Two

Jackson Joel Miller X Afab! Reader.

Read part one here

Here it is! Part two to this mini fic, I had wanted to get it done before Christmas but life and procrastination got in the way. Honestly I'm glad I waited and didn't rush it though. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and are enjoying the holidays and if you don't partake in the celebrations then I hope you're having a lovely week 💜

Warnings for part 2: Smut. MDNI.(For all my Joel Ho(e) Ho(e) Ho(e)s out there). Oral M+F receiving. Unprotected P in V (I expect y'all to do better, wrap it up like a present). Dirty talk. Joel is a quick draw. Squirting (if you squint). Praise. Folding you like a pretzel. Pussy and cock pronouns. Joel's a big boy. Fluff. Some love and appreciation for Joel's chompable ass. Mentions of loss. Joel is a sweetheart. Tommy can't sing for shit. Surprise at the end. Language (Swearing). Implied legal age gap, use your imaginations, reader existed before the apocalypse but there's no set age. No betas and I'm the worst at proofreading. I'm just here to practice writing and have fun.

Word Count: 5.3k

Credit for the cute little dividers goes to @strangergraphics 🎄

Kissing Joel was everything you'd dreamt it would be, feeling like you're floating, the entire world has gone silent, all you can hear is the slightly elevated thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears and the soft smack of his lips as they move with yours.

Neither of you have any idea how long you've been standing together like this, completely lost in each other. You can't think of anything but him and the way his hands feel on your back, gently caressing you through the velour Santa jacket he'd loaned you.

The way his beard scruff scrapes against your soft skin.

The way he smells, like pine and cinammon, mixed the sweet peppermint taste from all those candy canes he'd been snacking on over the course of the day.

The way his kiss is reverent but there's a tinge of something more behind it, a subtle heat that's threatening to escape from him.

The exhilarating combination of everything is making your head feel swimmy.

It's the squeels of kids outside the mess hall, engaging in an impromptu snowball fight, that finally snaps you both out of it, before you get too carried away. Honestly? It's probably a good thing, you felt like you were moments away from walking yourself backwards to one of the tables, letting him take you right here.

But you needed this reprieve. You didn't know if that's where he wanted this to go so quickly.

God knows that's what you wanted, but if he didn't and it spoiled the evening, you'd have been kicking yourself.

As you both pull back, lightly panting for breath, you both just stare at one another, letting out matching soft huffs of laughter.

"Well... That... I gotta say darlin'... That was probably top of my wish list for gifts this year." He says with a stupid goofy grin, to which you roll your eyes in amusement. "No no, really! Well... That and a well aged bottle of whiskey"

You shake your head with a small snort of laughter "Oh what an honour it is, hope you enjoyed it, 'cause you aren't getting another one"

He sticks his bottom lip out in a mocking pout. "Really? But I've been such a good boy this year" His hands are on your hips now, drawing small circles with his fingers over your clothes.

It's a lethal combination, he knows what he's doing. He's being anything but a good boy right now.

It's absolutely working, because the next words come tumbling out of your mouth in a flustered blurt. "Come back to my place?"

He knows he'd be a stupid man to say no to that.

Your heart is in your throat as you step over the threshold together. Joel shakes the fresh snow off himself almost like how a dog shakes themselves dry. He's so unintentionally funny sometimes, it actually calms your nerves a little.

Holding back a giggle, you head into the main living space, slipping off your heels with a small groan of relief, there was a reason you never wore these fucking things. Whoever designed them hated feet.

Meanwhile, he's taken the opportunity to do a little snooping, never having been in your house before, natural curiosity takes over.

A low whistle leaves him when he spots your record collection, it's tiny but it's there. "Didn't take ya for a Fleetwood fan" He grins as he raises the album up. "They're one of my favourites too, actually saw Stevie live back in the day"

"Someone's bragging, lucky bastard. I'm only a little jealous about that." your feigned non-chalonce and playful pout draws a chuckle from him, the sound of which has your heart skipping a beat.

Taking off the Santa jacket to hang it over the back of your couch, retrieving the carving from the pocket, you wander over to the mantleplace, setting it down to take pride of place in the centre, nestled between the one treasured photograph you have of your family and the candle you light when you're missing them. Lana is back where she belongs.

It's then that the gentle opening riffs of Landslide begin to play and you turn to see Joel watching you, with this soft smile and gooey eyes that make all your fears melt away. This bastard is a romantic. You hadn't expected that.

It a few short strides he's crossed the room, stopping in front of you. "May I have this dance?" He grins, outstretching his hand like the southern gentleman in him never left.

You don't hesitate to slip your hand into his and he doesn't hesitate to pull you closer, slipping his large hands around to rest flat against your lower back, your arms slide around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder as you begin to slowly sway together in the middle of your living room.

A small contented hum leaves him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, your hearts beating in a steady, matching rhythm. This - you realise, is what's mean missing from your life. Joel Miller. The secret romantic, the secret big softie. You were crushing on him even before, when you knew him as the stern and authoritative grump that you'd been partnered up with for patrols, but now in his arms like this? Now you felt like you were falling.

And you couldn't stop it even if you tried.

"Y'know..." he starts, his voice a low murmur "I can't remember the last time I danced with someone like this... Definitely not since before anyway... Probably at my high school prom actually"

You chuckle lightly, shifting to wrap your arms around him just a little tighter, not wanting this moment to end. Closing your eyes you try to picture young Joel all dressed up in a tux, swaying softly with a faceless date, you could imagine yourself at that age as his date.

You'd never had a prom, 18 year old you was too busy growing up in this new world, learning how to live without her family. Still it was nice to fantasize. But the reality was right here with you now, pretty sure he was the man of four dreams, as cliché as that sounded in your head. It didn't make it any less true.

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you meet his soft gaze, that same feeling you had earlier when the two of you were about to kiss under the mistletoe begins to swell within you, like a drumroll leading up to a big finish.

"I like you Joel... A hell of a lot actually. Probably too much." it's an admission that's been months in the making, always on the tip of your tongue when you're out on patrol together or when you find him at the Tipsy Bison drinking alone. You'd always been too chickenshit to admit it though, he seemed like he enjoyed being alone but there was always a part of you that thought perhaps he did it as a defence mechanism.

Keep your circle small, less chance of getting hurt. You could respect that. Everyone had lost something in this world, he was no exception to the rule.

"I like you too darlin'. It's... Fuckin' terrifying actually. Last person I had any kind of feelin's for she..." He cuts himself off, throat bobbing as he takes a moment to think about Tess, it wasn't conventional love, he'd never said it to her, she'd never said it to him but he knew deep down what it was to both of them. "...Well, I don't think I need to say more about that. You know."

And you do, you can see it in his eyes, the pain as he's thinking about a lost love. This world had taken so much from everyone.

"I do.. S-so I get it, if you don't want this to be anything more than just tonight or... or if you want to stop right now and go home." As much as it pains you to say, the last thing you'd want is for him to feel pressured to let you into his life, to become one more person inside that small circle of his, but what you don't know is that you're already in it.

He just stares blankly at you for a moment like that's the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "What? No. No, no. Don't get me wrong, like I said I'm fuckin' terrified but-" He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the gentleness of his touch a sweet opposite to the rough persona he gives off "-but, I do want this. Make no mistake about that. I'm all in darlin'"

From there it starts slow, kissing unhurriedly in the living room, savouring each other. Eventually you'd begun to undress each other on the stairs, laughing together when Joel tripped up a step as he attempted to chase you up them, his tshirt discarded with reckless abandon over the bannister.

It didn't take long for things to heat up once he'd got you into your bedroom, kissing and nipping at your neck as he helped you out of your skirt while you tugged down those ridiculous Santa pants, though you were still questioning how those made you feel.

Soon enough you're both on your bed, naked and tangled up together in a heated frenzy of kisses, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating your bodies through the crack in the curtains.

It had been a while for you, not since the last QZ you were in before Jackson and if the warmth of pre cum oozing onto your thigh is anything to go by, it's been a while for him too.

"Okay--" he pulls back slightly, resting his forearms either side of your head, his breathing ragged with desire as he gazes down at you "-If we don't slow down a 'lil I'm gonna blow my load before we've even started darlin' that's the gods honest truth"

A soft giggle leaves you, lazily raking your nails up and down his bare back, feeling the way he shivers under your touch. "As hot as that is." It really is, the fact that he's so worked up just from kissing and some heavy petting, makes you feel like some kind of goddess right now. That you could get a man like Joel Miller, ruthless-prickly-antisocial to just about everyone else in this town-Joel Miller, well that has you positively weak at the knees. "I really would like you to fuck me first before that happens"

A low groan leaves him at your words and his brain just about short circuits, he's heard you swear plenty of times out on patrol but what you just said was legitimately the best Christmas gift he could ask for.

"Ohhhh darlin'" He drawls in that smooth timbre that has your pussy clenching around nothing "I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep talking like that, I'm probably not gonna last long as it is." He lowers down to press slow, warm open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his time now "But I intend. To make sure. That you. Enjoy yourself first." it's murmured against your skin between kisses, his breath hot against your collarbone as you register the featherlight skim of his fingers on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, rubbing in languide circles as he coaxes it to peak.

He takes his time on your breasts when he finally does get to them with his lips, sucking one into his mouth, working it over with his tongue, the bastard even has the audacity to look up at you through those dark lashes, grinning with your nipple in his mouth. It's sinful how good he looks like this. A complete 180 from the soft man who was playing Santa just a few hours ago.

Now he's lavishing your tits with such expertise that has you sure that he's definitely on the naughty list.

Every little gasp that falls from your lips and writhe under him has him reading you like a book, quickly learning your cues as if he were memorizing directions. Mentally mapping your body out.

Once he's sure you're a mess for him, he pulls off your breast with a wet pop, dragging his lips down your abdomen, his stubble tickling at the sensitive flesh there, a breathy chuckle leaving you. You're ticklish. Another little fact about you that he'll happily store away for safe keeping.

As his lips move past your hips, burying his face in the wirey curls of your mound, inches away from your aching cunt, your legs part on instinct, his arms moving to hook underneath your thighs, holding you open for him.

"Fuuuuuuck sweetheart, look at this pretty little pussy. This mess all for me huh?" His breath fans across your pussy as he speaks, you're resting on your forearms looking down your body at him, appreciating the curve of his ass behind him, very biteable, yum.

The dirty talk doesn't even surprise you, just by the way he carries himself in his day to day life you already had a hunch he'd be like this, all tender and sweet when he wants to be, but as filthy as they come between the sheets.

"C'mon babygirl, use your words, wanna hear you say who this..." He swipes his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal before he brings it to his lips, tongue darting out to taste you on his fingers "...Sweet little cunt belongs to, holy fuck you taste so good"

His reaction has your wetness pooling beneath you, you're absolutely soaked right now and there's no hiding it from him. "You Joel. I'm yours, please..."

"Don't need to ask me twice darlin'" With that he ducks his head down, licking a slow stripe up from your entrance to your clit, an obscenely hot growl leaving him as your essence hits his tastebuds at full force.

You mewl and arch beneath him, his big hands gripping your thighs to keep you open. He starts slow at first, swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue in practiced patterns, just as you think he's sticking to a rhythm of left to right, he switches it up and goes in circles.

It's threatening to drive you to insanity. Edging you closer to release before he pulls it back, drawing this out longer, you realise quick enough. You're not usually this quick to approach climax but that's because you're on your own. Now however, he has complete control over you and he knows it.

The moan you let out when his tongue breeches you is obscene, you feel the mattress rock a little, lifting your head just enough to see him rutting into it. "Careful... You'll- oh fuck... Make yourself cum" That's all you can manage to get out before you throw your head back with a gasp, your hands flying into his hair holding him firm against you. He's let go of one of your thighs, bringing his thumb to your clit, circling it with a delicious pressure that makes all your self given orgasms pale in comparison.

A deep rumble of laughter bubbles up from his throat as he feels your velvety walls begin to spasm around his tongue. He'll stop teasing you now, he wants nothing more than to taste that sweet honey of yours, that and his dick is throbbing so hard it's verging on painful, all those little noises you've been making are addictive.

His hips still against the mattress as he focuses all his energy on you now, pressing just that little bit firmer against your clit as his tongue curls and fucks your tight heat. You feel the mixture of his saliva and your juices making a mess under you, trickling down your ass. You know his beard will be coated too.

"J-joel- oh... F-fuck. Mmm. Gonna- oh god!!"

Thighs trembling either side of his head, if he didn't have you spread open with his big hand on your thigh, you're sure you'd be clamping them around him by now, threatening to suffocate him as your release wracks through you. As it is, you're holding him steady against your pussy and he's more than happy to work you through it, groaning out as he laps up every last drop.

As the trembles begin to subside, he starts his way back up your body, kissing every curve and valley along the way until his looming over you once more, grinning down at you with pride, his chin glistening with your glossy fluids.

"Bet you're- so fucking pleased with yourself huh?" The breathless tone has his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

"Damn right I'm proud of myself. Got her nice and wet f'me, prolly gonna be able to slide right in." He coos as he reaches down between you, teasing his cock through your folds, up and down, over your swollen clit and back again to nudge at your entrance, over and over again. "I'm warnin' you darlin', I really ain't gonna last long. 'Specially if you're gonna be makin' all those noises f'me"

"Joel. Do you think I care? You just gave me the best head of my life. What I need right now..." You pause as you slide further down the pillows to lay flat against the mattress, knees bent, wide open as he kneels between them "...Is your fat cock inside me. Got it?"

A sly smirk stretches across his lips, hearing you talk dirty is quickly becoming one of his favourite things. "Yes ma'am, I hear ya loud and clear".

With that he wastes no more time, notching himself at your entrance, slowly sinking into you. Both of you groan in unison and that's just from the first couple of inches. Joel's a big man. You don't need to see his cock to know that, not when you can feel the sweet sting and stretch, even if he had made you soaked enough that he could just thrust into you with one powerful jerk of his hips but he knows he'd risk cumming too fast and he doesn't want to hurt you. Fully aware that his size can be a challenge.

"Fuck darlin'... Look at you... Takin' me so good. That's not even all of me. Think you can take more?"

You nod dumbly and he takes this as his cue to kick things up a notch, grabbing your calves as he pushes your knees back until they're against your chest, practically folding you in half. The new angle allows him to feed the rest of his cock into you, hitting deep when he's fully sheathed.

His plush bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as his gaze is fixed between you, watching as he begins to move. Pulling back until he's almost all the way out before he plunges deep back in again. The slow drag of his cock over your g-spot has you gasping already. Over and over until he starts to pick up the pace.

Leaning down, your legs either side of his shoulders as his hands are planted firmly either side of you. You know you're both going to be feeling this tomorrow but right now you don't fucking care, this feels too good, he feels too good.

"Joel!" You whimper and sob under him, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this, the way his teeth are gritted together, the knot of his brow as he's focusing on not cumming yet. He's not being rough by any means but the slap of flesh on flesh is constant, fast, deep and hard. It's as if he knew that's how you liked it.

"I know sugar. Not yet. Need ya t'cum again f'me first. I know y'can. Can... Ohhh christ... Feel ya... Grippin' me like a fuckin' vice! Need ya t'cum f'me again." He's barely holding himself together, the way his voice is strained. He angles his hips a little more to the point where he knows that with every thrust you'll be feeling a grind against your poor sensitive clit. He knows it'll get you there faster.

You're so stretched out and folded right now that you feel like all the air in your lungs is being knocked out of you with every lunge of his hips. Your breaths coming out in short sharp gasps as your fingers blindly claw at the sheets, feeling so full of him to the point where it's almost overwhelming.

Every noise you're making drives him just that little bit closer but he wants nothing more than to feel you shatter around his cock first. He needs it and he gets it. With a strangled cry of his name your second orgasm hits you, saturating his cock with your release to the point where it's dripping down his thighs.

"Fuck... Fuck... Fuck."

He fucks you through it, just barely restraining himself from cumming inside you, as soon as the flutters stop, he pulls out, jerking his cock as few times until he's spilling out onto your stomach, coating your skin with his warm, sticking spend, groaning lowly as he does so.

When the tremors of post coital bliss begin to subside, that's when the leg cramp hits, he'd let go of one of your calves before but the other is still firmly in his grip, your knee is still pressing against your chest.

"Joel. Ah. Leg cramp, leg cramp" You tap his arm to get his attention, and he scrambles to let you go, carefully helping your knee to straighten back out.

"Sorry about that, Darlin' you okay?" He asks with a tender stroke of his thumb across your leg, finding the cramp he helps to massage it away.

"Yeah I'm okay" You huff out a little laugh "Not sure I'm built for positions like that for an extended period of time though, don't get me wrong, that was fucking amazing and we will be doing that again"

He let's go of your leg when he feels the tension ease, coming to lean down over you, giving you the gentlest, sweetest kiss ever before he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "Damn right we will sweetheart. Right now though? Need to get ya all cleaned up. Stay put."

He climbs out of bed, naked as the day he was born and you can't help but admire his back profile, broad shoulders flexing in the moonlight, dimples in his lower bsck and that ass. The one you'd been admiring in his jeans every time you'd been out on patrol together. It's even better in the flesh.

"You say that as if I have the energy to move right now anyway!" You call out and he grins over his shoulder at you, knowing he did that to you. Even at 57 years old, he can still give the younger guys a run for their money.

The rest of that night is spent sleeplessly, you're either talking and joking or you're back to exploring each other's bodies, finding what makes each other tick. It surprises you, the stamina that he does have but you're damn happy about it, most men would have fallen asleep and called it a night after round one. Not Joel Miller though.

By the time either of you actually bother to look at the clock it's nearly 4am. You'd both been so swept up in everything that you hadn't even realised how much the time had gotten away from you.

Both of you had collapsed into a sated, blissful heap together after you'd decided you just had to ride him. Your bodies are entangled in a sweaty, sticky sheen but neither of you cares right now.

"Best. Christmas. Ever" He gets out as he plants soft little kisses to your cheek, you can feel his heart thundering in his chest, just like yours is.

"Can say that again. Guess Christmas came early huh? Among other things." That last remark earns you a playful jab to your side, ellicitng a squeel from you.

"You tease but I didn't hear you complainin', in fact I remember you were all too happy not to waste a drop" You'd gone down on him soon after your first round the second he was able to get hard again, he'd been so sensitive from his first release that all it took was a few minutes before he was cumming down your throat.

"You got me there, Miller." You grin as you shift onto your front, laying at his side with your feet gently kicking back and forth in the air, admiring his handsome features. He smiles back at you, taking in your beautiful face bathed in the moonlight, fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. "Joel?"

"Yes darlin'?"

"Can I ask you something? It's... It's about something I noticed at the grotto."

His fingers still for a moment, tilting his head in curiosity about what you're going to ask. "Shoot. Ask away"

"I... Well you were so good with the kids today. It was really sweet but- there was this one little girl? I noticed you looked kind of sad?"

The look on his face makes you regret asking almost instantly, you recognise the pain there. That same pain he'd had earlier when briefly touching on someone else he'd lost, the same pain that you recognise reflecting back at you in the mirror sometimes.

"Its okay if you don't want to-"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head shallowly as he takes a moment to collect himself, opening them back up to look at you with a small sad smile. "No... No, S'okay. I can talk about it. There was a time when I couldn't but... I can now. And I want to tell you everything. I mean everything. Is that okay with you, sweetheart?"

You slide your hand across his chest to rest over his heart, feeling the comforting steady thrum of it beneath your fingertips. "Whatever you're willing to share Joel, then I'm happy to listen."

He trusts you. He really fucking likes you. Even before tonight he'd felt like he was falling for you but now he's sure he is.

And so he does. He tells you everything.

All of it. Sparing no details about Ellie and the fireflies, about her immunity and what happened in Salt Lake City.

About what he and Tommy used to do after the world collapsed.

About Tess and the complicated relationship they shared.

And about Sarah. His babygirl that he'd lost on day one.

It all then makes sense to you why he is the way that he is with Ellie and why he keeps his circle so small.

One year later

'Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away.'

Whoever had convinced Tommy to get up on stage and sing Wham either needed a slap or they needed to be bought a drink, you couldn't decide.

It's Christmas Eve, this year Tommy and Maria had decided to host Karaoke night for the community, almost everyone was here, sitting around at the bar or at tables wincing every time Tommy tried to hit a high note.

You'd lost count how many times Joel had mumbled 'I fuckin' hate karaoke' under his breath beside you, looking like he wanted someone to put a bullet in him.

"So that's a no to getting up on stage with me hm?" You tease as you sip your drink through the little straw.

"Firm no."

"Oh c'mon not even Elton John and Kiki Dee!?" He shoots you a look that you know all too well by now, one that says, 'If you keep teasin' I'm going to ruin you the second we get home'. The heated glare has you weak at the knees, half tempted to keep prodding the bull but you don't get a chance.

Ellie and Dina come running over to your table to plop themselves in front of the two of you, all grins and wide excited eyes.

"What's got the two of you so worked up?" You ask with a suspicious chuckle.

Ellie twists her lips coyly "Nothing! Hey Joel you know that thing? It's ready."

"Oh that's cryptic. What thing? What's she talking about?" You turn to Joel with confusion etched on your face.

"Subtle Ellie, real subtle. Didn't I tell ya to work on that?"

It's then that Tommy finishes his song, finally and takes the mic in his hand, tapping it a few times to get everyone's attention, the feedback making some of the patrons groan.

"Alrighty folks, need y'all to get yer coats on now cos we've got one more special even planned for tonight, other than my wonderful singing that is."

The curious mumbles rise from the crowd, Joel is quick to pull you to stand, urging you to get your jacket on as the girls both dash back outside into the snow.

Everyone files out slowly, Joel keeps his hand firmly in yours as he pushes through the crowd with murmered sorrys and 'scuse me's. You have no idea what's going on right now or why Ellie and Dina smiling ear to ear just a few feet ahead.

With the crowd gathered, you and Joel at the very front, you feel his hand shaking in yours.

"Baby is everything okay, what's going o-"

Before you can even get your words out there's a small squeel and a fizz before a rocket goes flying into the air, your eyes following the noise, lighting up when you see the burst of colours against the night sky.

Fireworks in vivid shades of red, blues and greens in the distance, beyond the walls of Jackson.

Momentarily panicking that the noise might attract unwanted attention to the town, but it's over as quick as it began because out of the corner of your eye you see him, sinking down onto one knee, letting out a small groan that reveals his bones are older than he likes to pretend he is.

You gawp down at him with wide, unblinking eyes The whole town is now watching the two of you "Joel. What are you doing?"

"Whats it look like I'm doin'? And if you say no you'll be makin' me look like an ass in front of the entire town, you have any idea how long it took to get this fireworks thing rigged up far enough away so it doesn't cause a fuss?" He half chuckles as he digs a small box out of his pocket, saying your name slowly as he opens it to reveal a simple silver band with tiny little emeralds set into it.

The smallest of gasps leaves you, realising hes about to propose in front of the whole fucking town.

And then he says the words you've been longing to hear. "Will you marry me?"

Without missing a beat you give him his answer "Are you fucking kidding me!? Yes!" You sink to your knees in the snow, throwing your arms around him almost catching him off balance with an oof.

His free arm snakes around your waist holding you close to him as he buries his face in your neck.

You hear the whistles and cheers from the crowd but right now it all may as well be background noise because all you hear is his whispered words as he slips the ring onto your finger, it fits like a glove much to his joy. "I love you so fuckin' much, Merry Christmas baby."

Your eyes are glittering with unshed happy tears as you respond "Merry Christmas Joel."

You're going to spend the rest of your life with this man. This Christmas and every Christmas thereafter.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @cheekychaos28 @joelmillerisapunk @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @baronessvonglitter @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @kirsteng42

@ashleyfilm @redollface @supmlfevs @laprofesoratinacita

Thank you to everyone who interacts, reblogs, comments and reads, it means the world to me 💜

[jaehunnyy]

trust you with my heart | smg

Pairing: vampire!Mingi x witch!reader

Genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, fantasy!au, fluff, a bit of angst if you squint?

Wordcount: 4.1k

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: kissing, few swear words, both of them have a sucky past, grammar mistakes

a/n: this is my work for @cromernet's secret santa event, and it's forrrrr drumrolls @bvidzsoo!! my dear Ariadne, this was something new to me and i tried my best so i hope you won't be too disappointed of it, happy holidays! 💕

Networks: @cromernet, @illusionnet, @blankjournal

“Soon, there won’t be any Aurora University to celebrate or any students to attend if we don’t do this! We have to take the risk and send them there.” 

You gasped at your professor’s words, not even minding that you could be expelled if anyone caught you eavesdropping—even when you felt a cold hand around your neck and another pressed on your lips, preventing you from screaming in fear. 

“When did Y/N become that bold? Eavesdropping—at the dean’s office? This better be good!” 

You closed your eyes in frustration as you realized who caught you there—Song Mingi. You have fought for the student of the year title every year since you entered Aurora University. You wanted to say something in return, but you heard your professors talk again, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation as you thought about the place that was your home for the last few years—not only did it provide a safe space for your supernatural powers, but you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve become of you if it wasn’t for their support and understanding throughout learning how to control them.

“Let me go,” you said, words muffled by his hand still on your mouth: “Mingi!” you said one last time, stepping with your heel right on his foot and freeing yourself from his grip as he let out a painful sound. “Don’t you dare say a single word!” you threatened, looking at him through sharp eyes. 

He clenched his fists so hard, that you were sure the half-moons his nails dug into his skin would be visible a few minutes after. Mingi opened his mouth to give you a remark before a strong voice interrupted your antics: “I have to go search for them—or maybe not. Mingi, Y/N, we were just looking for you!” your elf professor exclaimed, pushing the two of you into the dean’s office. You were doomed. 

“We hope this nice time of the day finds you well, our dear students—actually, what were the two of you doing here?“ the elf raised his eyebrow, looking at you. 

“We don’t have time to lose! Tell them, or I will!” the dean, a fairly volcanic werewolf exclaimed. 

The elf scrunched his nose at the noise, giving Y/N and Mingi a smile before starting: 

“As you might already know, our University is in danger due to The Nameless Protector’s wishes to withhold some funds from our university. You two are our best shot at convincing them this university is worth saving and investing in, so we want to talk to you about scheduling a meeting with them and trying to change their mind. We will provide everything you need, just—please, try your best and be safe.” 

You looked at Mingi, just to be met with a dumbfounded look, despite your shocked one. "I don’t think he’s capable of understanding this", you mentally giggled, before becoming serious and weighing the gravity of the situation. Your lips trembled with the ache of your words, this was too big of a responsibility, you couldn’t, you won’t— 

“We’re delighted to take part in this adventure together, Mister Elfy. Thank you for choosing us.” Mingi smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. 

You forced a lopsided smile, putting your arm around Mingi’s waist and pinching his skin with your nails, making him hiss, your poor professors smiling awkwardly in your direction, not quite sure whether the two of you would survive each other before facing other adventures.  

You were convinced this could only happen to you.

As time passed and the needed preparations were done, you found yourself sitting on the train, facing the cocky vampire that didn’t even bother to check on you. Book in his hands, his eyes were following the letters scattered on the pages, lips slowly moving as his reading came out in a whisper. You wished you could distract yourself like he did, but the thought of facing them terrified you to the core. The Nameless Protector was known to be a ruthless person. There weren’t a lot of people who met them, other than their Right Hand, and you weren’t even sure if it was more than a tale your grandma used to tell you as a good night story; what if they ate witches or something? 

“Are you okay? Not that I care, but you look paler than me, and this is quite concerning considering that last time I checked, I was the only vampire on this train.” Mingi’s raspy voice came to your ears, making you scoff. 

“I’m going to the restroom.” 

Or so you wished because as soon as you stood up, a sudden brake made you lose your balance, landing right into Mingi’s lap. You were again convinced that this could only happen to you. 

Still dazed by the sudden encounter, you slowly raised your face to meet the vampire’s, his sharp eyes piercing through your soul.  You were so close that you were sure if vampires needed to breathe, you would have felt his warm breath on your lips. You were convinced he could also feel the tension building between the two of you, and his lips suddenly looked so good that—

“Uhm, tickets, please.” The train conductor faked a cough and you realized the position you were in, sighing for the nth time that day. 

The trip took around two days, and you couldn't wait to finally bask in some fluffy blankets, in a comfortable bed—only for your dreams to be crushed, once again. You entered the spacious room, only to be met with a king-sized bed. And you would normally be so happy about it, if only Mingi didn’t follow right behind, having to share the room with you. A room with one bed. 

“I don't think vampires need sleep, so I will take the bed, thank you,” you said, hurrying to the bed, only to feel his ice touch on your wrist. 

“Not so fast, Broomie,” he said, trying a bit too hard not to laugh at his own nickname, “I don't know what expects us out there, so I need my rest too.”

“You can rest as well on the floor; oh, and it's all thanks to that nickname, by the way.” You said in an annoyed tone, escaping from his hold and getting into the bed.  

You swore you saw him pouting, and you couldn't help the little flutter of your heart. You felt bad for him, but he deserved it; in the end, you were just two academic rivals doomed to convince some sort of ruler no one ever saw to keep on funding your university—quite easy, right? 

The next morning, you started to stir awake, feeling quite cold, yet engulfed by an unfamiliar warmth. You slowly opened your eyes, only to be met with Mingi's sleeping figure next to you, one arm lazily thrown around your waist. You tried your best not to shriek, wondering how the hell did he even think of getting into the bed while you were asleep. Moving your hand towards him, you were ready to shake him until he woke up—only to realize you couldn't. He looked so peaceful, his long lashes resting gracefully on his cheeks and his hair was scattered all over his face. You have always wondered if the unspoken tension between you two had a deeper meaning, but, you pushed it aside with all the teasing and pressure between the two of you.

He opened his eyes soon after, the spark of a crimson shadow present in them. His mouth was itching to say something, but for some reason, he felt like it would ruin the moment. It was the first time you two co-existed in other proximities, with no one to judge and compare the two of you. You looked so vulnerable, with your messy hair all over the pillow, and he was sure he didn't look any better—yet, for once, he didn't care. 

“Why did you think it would be a good idea to sleep here? I thought we had a deal.” You broke the silence, recomposing yourself. 

“You seemed scared to sleep alone.” He simply smiled, getting up and ruffling his hair in an attempt to make it look better. You rolled your eyes at his joke, but apparently everything had a new beginning, so you let it slide.

After the two of you prepared for the day, you realized you should probably eat something before exploring the surroundings. 

"Are you coming for breakfast?” 

Mingi looked at you, a drink in his hand—one you didn't want to know details about; it kinda confirmed that he wasn't coming, though. 

“I could keep you company if you want.” 

You were surprised he was willing to come with you, maybe he had a fever? You just shrugged and prevented yourself from saying anything. The two of you got downstairs, admiring the beautiful scenery the hotel provided. The windows were big and clear, making it possible for the whole city to be seen out of them. You watched in awe, not noticing when the vampire disappeared. 

“Yunho!” you heard Mingi's voice and looked in the direction of the sound, seeing him hug an unknown guy. His blonde locks stood out next to the blue-haired man he was talking to, and once again—you found yourself starstruck by his beauty. His plump lips were moving with every word he said, stretching into soft smiles whenever the other guy was saying something, and you were sure that there was a side of him you didn't know. He seemed so soft and gentle—something you didn’t see before.

“Y/N, come meet Yunho!” he shouted, calling you over. “This is my old friend, we lived together for a while.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N! I'm working here so don't hesitate to call if you ever need something! You may sit at that table, I'll bring you your food immediately.” 

You nodded softly, giving him a small smile. 

“Oh, and I suggest you two take a walk after sunset, you won't regret it.” 

“Do you wanna take a walk?” you asked, hoping he would hear your voice, too concentrated on the words he was currently reading. 

He raised his head softly, adjusting the glasses that hung lazily on his nose. 

“Oh, isn't it The Wicked Witch of the West? Asking me for a walk?” he smirked, satisfied with your annoyed reaction. 

“You know what, you can keep on reading, I don't want you to come anymore.” 

He smiled, grabbing your hand softly. "You can't take it back now; let's go.” 

Mingi could say he was intrigued. Your presence, the way you talked—he wanted to see behind your straight A's, leaving all the pressure on your shoulders aside. Truth is—he didn't know how to get close to you, he never did. Initially, his remarks were supposed to be a way for you to let loose around each other; but it turned out to be the opposite, creating a wall of uncomfortable tension between you—and he thought that maybe, it was for the best. But you were alone now, and he hoped he could change that. 

“Do you eat kids?” 

You almost choked, stopping in your tracks and giving him a disgusted look. 

“I—what?” 

“My grandma used to read me a story about a witch living in a house made of candy and—” 

“You're delusional. No, I don't eat kids.” 

He sighed dramatically, as if he just freed himself from a horrible danger. He was sure he messed up again, but he also hoped you already got used to his antics by now and you found his question funny.

“What made you say yes to this adventure?” he asked again, your hands brushing at how close the two of you were. 

“For your information, it was never me who agreed to this, it was you, and—” 

He giggled. For the first time, you saw him giggle with all his heart, and it made you smile too. You needed to get things off your chest, so you decided opening up a bit wouldn’t hurt. 

“I wanted validation from my family. I wanted to prove myself to them, show them that I won't disappoint our coven, that I can be independent—but they weren't satisfied, I was never enough.” 

You saw a familiar glint in his eyes, a silent way to tell that he understands you, that he knows the struggle. Instinctively, his hand slowly found yours, your fingers interlocking almost as if they were made for each other. 

“My family never supported me. They never wanted me to study at Aurora, they never acknowledged me—I was always the weak one until I dared to run away. That’s how I met Yunho. I don't really have anything to prove,” he chuckled dryly, “But I still hope I will get closure from that.” 

“Damn, look at us trauma bonding, who knew?” you asked in hope to light the mood up for a bit, wrapping your hands around his waist slowly. 

You had no idea who needed this hug more, but when he wrapped his hands around you as well, you decided to enjoy the comfort, with no overthinking to be done. This was the only way you two could see the real you, stripped from all the negativity and expectations, surrounded by the desire to be validated and loved. 

The rest of the walk went smoothly, with you two finally starting to enjoy each other’s company. 

A few more days passed, with you two opening up more, realizing just how similar you were. Now, you were walking around a big castle—the castle where the ruler could change your destiny for good or bad. You and Mingi thought it would be a good idea to see it beforehand, so you wouldn't be too intimidated by the thought of being here for the first time. While you were taking in the new scenery, a soft voice called you: “Mingi, Y/N! You are early.” 

You turned your heads in unison, looking at the quite short man in front of you. His black wolf cut suited his well-sculpted jaw perfectly, and his clothes screamed such luxury that you couldn't help but think you were standing in front of The Nameless Protector, ready to faint right there (hopefully in Mingi's arms). 

“Follow me.”

You looked at Mingi, who had a look as confused as yours. Shrugging, you composed yourselves and followed the man into a room, earning a playful smirk from him. 

“I heard you needed to talk to me. Go on,” he said, though he looked like he was restraining himself from laughing. 

Something was off. 

“Excuse us for a bit,” Mingi said while dragging you aside. “Don’t you think he looks… quite unserious for such a mysterious person?” Mingi asked, looking firstly at you, then at the grand (supposedly) Nameless Protector, his look skeptical. “Like, do you think it was that easy? It seems a bit suspicious to me.”

“You’re right, he looks kinda silly. Let me do the talking,” you said in a determinate tone. 

Your steps led you in the direction of the guy, whose name was apparently Wooyoung, and all Mingi could think of was a massive "This cannot be good.” He gripped his hair, massaging his temples softly—regretting right after, and he swore he would never look away from you again—cause you were holding the poor man by his collar, slamming him on the closest wall. 

“You are not The Nameless Protector, are you? Tell us the truth!” You shouted.

“Y/N, what are you doing? You are ruining everything, stop!” 

“I won’t stop until I find the truth,” you ripped your attention from the shorter guy, turning to face Mingi: “Do you trust me with this?” 

“Yes, I trust you. With everything.” 

“You little gremlin, tell me the tru—what?” 

Pause. Mingi trusts you. The words kept replaying in your mind, surrounded by the butterflies you tried to avoid for so long. The shock you felt made you loosen your grip on Wooyoung’s collar, making him run away from you, fury spread all over his face. 

“How dare you act like that when I wanted to give you a chance and change my mind? You are ungrateful.”

Mingi looked at you, lips parted and face even paler, if that was even possible. Wooyoung kept a serious face for a while,  before bursting into laughter.

“Y’all thought it was me? Hah, you know, you are quite dumb for straight-A students.”  

The vampire clenched his fists and approached the guy, who was now trapped between you and him. 

“I knew you were too easy to find! You liar!” you shouted again, terrifying the guy who raised his hands in defeat. 

“I was paid to do this, please, don’t beat me!” 

Mingi’s eyes grew bigger and he wasn’t sure he heard that right. 

“You are so close to succeeding at this task, guys. Good luck!” Wooyoung said, then snapped his fingers and disappeared. 

What the fuck? Who was this person and how did he even know all of this? Little did you know, though, that somewhere in that castle, The Nameless Protector was watching you proudly.

You and Mingi were on a late-night walk, again. Tomorrow was finally the big day, and you were quite scared, so he wanted to ease your mind a bit. You weren't scared by the ruler per se, you were actually more scared about what would happen after, will you and Mingi go back to normal, or will something more bloom between the two of you? 

“Let's sit there!” he exclaimed excitedly, pointing to a wooden bench. 

He signaled for you to sit first, only for him to lay his head in your lap, inhaling deeply. The cold air hit your face slowly, and he swore you looked even more ethereal, with your hair moving around with the wind. 

“I never thanked you for that night; it was the first time I felt like someone understood me,” he began, playing with your fingers to keep himself occupied.

“You don't have to—” 

"Shhh, let me do the talking,” he smiled: “This little journey of ours made me realize that I never hated you, God, it's actually the other way round.” 

You could feel your heart beating louder, eyes glowing in anticipation. 

“I was so blinded by—by all these labels and all these false expectations everyone had on us, that I never really thought about what I feel,” he paused, standing up from your lap to face you properly: “But now I do. I know that for everything I want to achieve, I want to do it with you by my side. I am in love with you.” 

A familiar sting in your eyes made you notice that you were on the verge of crying because of the words of the man in front of you. If only he knew how much you regretted every bad word you said to him, every name you called him, only to realize that you would find solace in his arms; his cold touch that you grew to adore, his pale skin that you couldn’t stare enough at, his crimson eyes whenever he woke up. 

You grabbed his face softly, and you swore you could see a bit of a blush in his cheeks. Mingi felt proud; he felt like this was now his biggest achievement. He was blinded by the need to prove something—so much that he didn't pay attention to your dedication, the beautiful smile you always wore as an accessory when you were being praised, the tears and sulking whenever your spells didn't work. But he was ready to do so now. He was ready to be the one who made you smile, ready to support you with everything, without having to demonstrate anything to anyone. Just the two of you against the world. 

“I've been wanting to do this since we were on that train.” 

You both giggled, your noses touching and rubbing together, making the giggles turn into louder chuckles—a pure sound of the joy you both felt. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips on his, sealing your unspoken love with a sweet, longing kiss. He tilted your head and deepened the kiss, the hand on your back pulling you closer, and you thought you could melt right there, not getting enough of his rose petals-like lips. The two of you could feel the bond between you growing even stronger, crafted with the feelings and trust you built for each other. 

The last day of your journey finally came, and there you were again, hand in hand in front of the now familiar castle, hoping this time, your meeting would have a better outcome. 

“Together?” you asked, pressing a soft peck on his pale cheek. 

“Together,” he said, kissing your forehead. 

His lips remained on your skin for a while, before he shot you a confident smile and you two started walking towards the big door—though you felt like nothing could have prepared you for what was behind it. There they stood, on a big, black chair. The Nameless Protector and his Right Hand. Though you couldn't imagine it, it was so easy to tell them apart. The more imposing one was quite short and rather innocent-looking, yet he exuded a noble confidence—one that you were sure only a leader could bear. His silky half-black, half-white hair adorned his well-sculpted face, and you took your time to take in his soft features. His sharp nose stood out, making him look like some kind of a model, and you were sure the industry was happy he didn't choose that path. His rosy lips complimented his face beautifully, like the cherry on top, and his aura was something so unique you couldn't find words to describe it. He screamed gentleness, yet also authority—a true ruler who only looked forward, head held high, demanding respect and attention (and you were sure that, with that intimidating aura, he had it all). You saw him scrutinizing the two of you, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. By this, you could say this was nothing but a Fae's demeanor. The other man, his Right Hand, on the other side, gave off more royal vibes. Despite being a bit taller, it was clear who really held the power. His round face made him look like a prince who was ready to rule the empire once the right time came, black boba eyes on full display. His white hair was falling gracefully on his face, fitting right in with his plump lips and soft nose. He also exuded a strong, powerful aura, but it was clear that the line between sweet and ruthless wasn’t blurry for him. He was definitely a fairy.

“You finally made it, congratulations, Mingi and Y/N!” 

The Nameless Protector exclaimed softly, giving the two of you a round of applause, accompanied by his reliable man. 

“I see the two of you have passed the test,” the fairy pointed out the way you were still holding each other's hands, his pearly white teeth showing through a sincere smile. 

You looked at Mingi, wondering if he had the same idea as you did. Was this all a test? 

“Yes, my dear. It was a test.”

Damn, you didn't voice your thoughts out loud, did you? 

“It is no lie that I wanted to stop investing so much in your university, so I asked your professors to send their most trusted students to me. I've heard about the constant rivalry between the two of you, so it intrigued me. I wanted to see how far you would go to protect your safe place, how much of each other you could stand to prove your points, how long until you notice you two are made to fight next to each other.” The Fae said softly. 

“Oh, and you also dealt with Wooyoung, so that was kind of a bonus.” The fairy giggled, making you and Mingi more relaxed as your laughter filled the room. 

“So… it was all a plan? Will you keep investing in our university?” you asked, hope audible in your voice. 

“Yes, it was a plan that succeeded, like always,” he flexed, chuckling at his own joke: “And yes. You have convinced me that your university is worth investing in. Furthermore, where would be the fun in ruling, if you two were the last students I could mess with?” 

You and Mingi completely let loose and started laughing, being interrupted by a fake cough. Oh, you ruined it all, didn't you? 

“Excuse me, sweeties, but wouldn’t you like to be part of my council?” 

[friedtyrantbasement]

Tough conversations and good distractions

M reader

Cast: Yizhuo, Aeri, Yooyeon (not mentioned often)

Tags: smut, top reader, cheating, angst, marrital issues, drama, multi part series

WC: 3.8k

This felt like a repeat of how your parents argued. Your tie feels tight around your neck, this is what you never wanted to feel at any point in your adult life.

Your marriage was going through a rough patch for a while. Like, a seriously long while.

Yizhuo and yourself had been together for almost a year now, and at the beginning of your marriage you felt like nothing could go wrong. Of course, the honeymoon period didn't last long.

It's not like you try your best to fix it either in all honesty. You work in a fast-paced corporate job and the last thing you need to come home to is your wife asking you incessantly about who you've been conversing with and other questions you feel like you answered a million times.

You don't like to lie but distractions were needed to help keep you in your right mind.

“Baby, for the last time. The only one I have my eyes on is you. I swear it.” You learned to give that speech almost every time she felt insecure. It was getting over used, you might need to paraphrase it soon.

On top of Yizhuo’s knack for insecure behaviour, you have to deal with her family's high expectations. You're the vice president of your older brother's company but that wasn't enough for your in-laws. They wanted you to start your own company, be risky but that just wasn't who you were. You're a laid back guy who enjoys doing his job and one hell of a good one at that and getting paid without making any huge decisions that could affect other people at large.

“God, I just don't understand why you can't talk to me! You act like I'm not here for you when I tell you that you can always talk to me.” You want to roll your eyes at her words. Yizhuo would look impeccable if it weren't for the fact that you thought she had gone deaf in one ear.

“No sweetheart, I said that I simply have nothing to talk about, not that I can't talk with you.” You say gripping the dinner table you're currently leaning back on as your wife sits on the couch away from you. Yizhuo had been pressing you for answers on why you were so quiet these days but you just weren't up for it.

She licks her lips, her tongue sliding over her plump bottom lip and squeezing her eyes tightly as she blinks, as if she was calming herself down.

“I just have been…. Hearing things.” She starts.

“What things, Yizhuo?” You say her name, which makes her shift in her seat. Now she's rubbing her hands as if she's going to hear heartbreaking news.

“I've heard… that you've been seeing another woman. Specifically, that new girl on your work team.” Oh lord. You want to rip your hair out. ‘Is she seriously accusing me of sleeping with a university intern that I haven't even met?’ Your thoughts laugh at the situation, it's hilarious at this point.

The person she should worry about is the one closest to her.

“Oh really? And who told you that? Your little spy Aeri? She barely knows left from right and how many times has she been wrong about shit like this? Huh? Drop it, Yizhuo. I'm serious.”

You were dead serious, tired and not in the mood to be playing bullshit with your wife this early in the morning right before work. “Fine! But I still don't get why you just can't say ‘No honey, I'm not cheating’. Why can't you just say that to me?” Yizhuo says, throwing her hands up in defeat as she gets up to head to your shared bedroom.

A sigh leaves your mouth. This has gotten ridiculous. “You know what? I don't think that no matter what I say or do you're ever going to believe me. That's why, Yizhuo. So I'm going to work now and I would recommend you to drop this nonsense before I get home.”

You don't even let her say something back. You grab your work bag, car keys and you're gone with the wind. Now you're in the worst possible mood ever, sorry to all of your coworkers today.

—

“What's up with the VP today? He's crashing out over a few small mistakes.” One of your coworkers whispered in the break room. “Isn't he married to that fine woman? What issues could he have?” Another one said, edged with slight envy.

“Probably just some troubles in paradise. It's their one year mark soon. Everything goes to shit after that, I would know.” A supervisor says, his voice quieting with the last part of his dialogue. As if it was scripted, the workers collectively release a sigh, remembering the way they used to formerly be with their partners.

Of course, there was always someone keeping an ear out for a good conversation—minus the collective sigh at the end—especially when it has to do with someone she's been keeping an eye out for.

You are half near losing your mind. The argument from this morning and now your team was making numerous mistakes regardless of how small they were. ‘Fuck, I need to smoke’ You think getting out of your chair that you'd been glued to for the past four hours. Besides, the air and the person waiting for you will clear your head.

You press the elevator button a few times and that small action makes you wonder just when you have become such an impatient person. You used to love a good wait time especially when you were about to do something you had promised yourself you would never do again. Fortunately, the elevator opens, inviting you to enter it and whisk yourself away from the stress of your life.

“Hold it, please!” You hear a feminine voice call out, her heels making a light jog towards the elevator which you hold your arm out, keeping it open. “Thank you so much. I wasn't ready to wait another 10 minutes for the elevators.” The black haired girl breathes out and you chuckle nodding your head at her.

“I hear it. I still can't believe they only have two elevators for a fifteen floor building.” You say, getting a better look at the woman who's in a neat pencil skirt and a button up shirt. “What's your name? Haven't seen you before.” You mention extending your hand to the woman.

She takes your hand shaking it. “The names Yooyeon. Don't bother introducing yourself, I think we'll end up seeing each other more often.” Just then the elevator opens cueing her leave. Yooyeon waves as she steps off the elevator. You watch her walk away. Your eyes are unnecessarily narrowing down on her ass as the elevator closes.

You breathe out a sigh, it has been a while since you had an easy going conversation with someone. You think for a split second just as you enter the rooftop. “Well well well, look who we have here.” You hear a sensual voice purr.

“Oh my, is that my wife's makeshift CIA investigator? Goodness, what do I owe the pleasure, Aeri.” You say sarcastically walking beside the woman, pulling out a cigarette to which Aeri lights it up for you. The woman dangerously close, you can smell her Chanel perfume as her eyelashes bat at you.

“Oh dear, have I ruffled your feathers on such a pleasant morning, sir?” She says, coyly placing her hand on the lapel of your suit. You remove her hand and breathe out your smoke onto her face. “Do you find yourself happy confusing my wife?” She fans the smoke away from her and smiles at you, if it were anyone else they would have misunderstood her smile as a genuine one.

“I enjoy it just as much as you like filling me up.” Her words make you clench your jaw. Your hand that does not have a cigarette lodged between two fingers grips her face. “Watch that mouth. You're much more careless than I thought.” Aeri only grips your blazer and throws your hand away from her face.

You breathe in smoke again, holding it in and then you blow it out. You know what's going to happen after this. You know you can't trust yourself with this woman, and she knows that just as well as you do. So you step out your cigarette and press your lips against hers. Aeri meets you with fervor and passion.

“You know you can't get enough.” She whispers haughtily, confident in herself. Unfortunately, you know she's right and so you burst out laughing to her confusion. Aeri almost gets the chance to ask you what's wrong with you but you kiss her again. Your tongue running over her lips, sucking on her bottom lip, and just like that Aeri feels like she's the only one in the world. Pressing chaste kisses all over her lips and then you slide your tongue into her mouth. You hear her release a moan, a pretty one at that. It rings in your ear, letting you grip the back of her neck pushing her as close as you possibly could.

It's an addiction, one that feels so good, one that you doubt you could stop. So you don't. You're driving Aeri to one of her father's numerous hotels to check in to so you can take your fingers out of her cunt and stick something else in.

“Fuck- drive faster, you piece of shit.” The name calling makes you scoff. “Didn't I tell you to watch your fucking mouth earlier?” You curl the pads of your fingers to hit her spot. Aeri's back arches, the back of her hand falling lightly over her mouth as she tears up. Finally, you achieve your desired silence minus the moans and ‘Fuck’ and ‘Mm right there’ ‘s coming from Aeri's mouth.

Unfortunately, you reach your destination all too quickly. You slide your fingers out of her sopping folds and she shoots you a glare but nevertheless gets out of the car, walking a few paces ahead of you. The receptionist is used to the two of you and your monthly rendezvous with the Chairman's daughter.

“Don't take so long, you know what we're here for and I’d rather not spend more time with you than I'd like to.” Aeri says, as you zip her black short dress down. You roll your eyes and push her onto the bed without much regard for her. You throw off your blazer and pull your tie off only to unbutton the first button. You crawl closer to her, you bury your face into her neck, pressing a hot kiss against her pale skin.

By the time you're done making love with her neck, your belt has been unbuckled and your pants are off. Aeri's fingers pull the waistband of your boxers down with some help of yourself. “Come on, put it in.” She whines into your ear, you aim your length at her entrance but don't do as the vixen wants.

“So fucking whiny for it, why don't you beg? Act a little cute for me, won't you? It's been so hard calming my wife down because of your evil whispers.” Aeri stiffens at the mention of Yizhuo. You can see her eyes flicker, you wonder if that's if she feels bad or if she doesn't like how much you're talking.

But the thought of reality doesn't last long before you feel Aeri press her dainty and magically gorgeous hand on your chest pushing you down onto your back. Aeri unbuttons the rest of your blouse at a torturously slow speed, which you would never admit turned you on a bit. She presses hot kisses down your torso starting at your jaw, so near to your lips and further down she went.

As a natural occurrence would have it she landed just where your lower stomach is. Her tongue flat against your stomach, giving it small kisses and kitten licks. You just wish she'd go a bit lower so you hold a hand to the back of her head and try to escort her way to your hard, pre cum leaking cock.

“You want me to suck on him? Act a little cute for me, won't you?” Referring to your cock as ‘him’ and the sarcastic repetition of your words. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before you feel the need to kiss her again. So you do as you desire but not before you get what you want.

You wrap a hand around your cock and push it closer to her lips. Aeri looks up at you and you tilt your head slightly with a pout on your lips, as your back rests against her head board. She gives in to your little show and wraps her lips around your tip, her tongue makes small circles around the head before letting more of your length slide into her mouth. You suck in a deep breath as you feel Aeri apply suction.

Your hand naturally returns to the back of her neck politely urging her to take more of your shaft. Aeri knows the desperation that you're displaying and she enjoys it but more than anything she enjoys seeing you crumble, that mask of being the all responsible, perfect family man and vice president just falls off under her touch.

Though this is something that she knows will never last forever, she gives in taking you into the back of her throat. She takes your cock whole, letting it hit the back of her throat and she lets her mouth head back to the tip. Aeri repeats this over and over. No regard for the way she’ll probably gag at having you so deep.

As if she wants to consume you whole, monopolise you, own you, the greed that she feels is most likely consuming herself but she delusions herself into thinking that she is not affected by the way your eyes are stuck onto hers.

Aeri can feel your hips twitch, as if you’re warning her unconsciously of your orgasm. Her tongue slides over your member, carefully paying attention to it in the most romantic way possible. The poised woman removes your cock from her warm mouth allowing your white hot to land on her face in untimed spurts. Your hand grabs some tissues on the bedside table of the bed to pass to your accomplice. To which she takes and carefully dabs her face, erasing any residue left.

Now you think for a moment, ‘She looks pretty.’ but you don't allow yourself to think any further, after all Aeri would tie a noose around your neck if she knew you had such thoughts, soft thoughts. You lay the woman down on her back, the rest of work would be on your part so you slide on a condom looking down at the woman under you.

“A man with no arms could move faster than you, don’t waste my time.” Aeri spits at you and you scoff at her words, lowering yourself and pressing your cock head against her wet entrance. Her back arches and her arms wrap around your neck as your cock enters her, filling every space in her cunt.

“Fuck, it’s been so long.” You groan as you bury your head into the crook of her neck, your hand slides under the back of her thigh caressing her softly as you fuck her. Aeri’s small swears and loud moans fill the hotel room along with your groans. Your hips rock back into her pelvis, and you can feel Aeri's small movements in an attempt to match your thrusts. You're stretching her out in ways she could never imagine. The tightness of her sopping pussy has you groaning out in awe.

Your eyes are stuck on the way Aeri's breasts move every time you fuck her. You throw her legs over your shoulders and get as close as humanly possible, your face perched between the woman's perfect boobs. Your mouth latches onto one of her nipples, sucking it, licking it, and giving it all your attention and focus. Aeri yelps and mewls, her luxurious sounds of pleasure leaking out of her pretty lips only encourages you to continue working her breasts. But you never forget to hit the deepest part of her pussy, you find yourself unable to stop giving the most concentrated strokes known to mankind.

“Go- god, keep going, you- fuck so perfect for me.” Aeri says as her hands manage to touch your face and bring you to focus on her face, that's contorted in the ecstasy that you bring her. Both of your lips find one another with some struggle of space, yet your tongue slides into her perfectly curated mouth and you spend time working her mouth. “You're the one who's so fucking perfect.” You praise her and you can tell she enjoys the words of affirmation after all, her cunt is tightening around you.

As if you would die if you did not seek pleasure from Aeri you continue to chase your high. Despite hers being long reached, Aeri can only let out gasps and whines asking you to give her a break. “I'll give you a break when you deserve one. I haven't even cum yet.” Your hips jerk again into her and her head falls back. The sounds of her moaning are rivaled by the sounds of your balls slapping harshly against her skin, additionally the wet sounds coming from her pussy. “You're acting like you don't enjoy this, you hear that? Those sounds are all yours. Don't get so fucking arrogant, you whore.” you spit out cruelly, and she responds with a sobbed out apology.

A small smile paints your lips, the feeling of pride swelling in your chest. Who else but you could bring the Chairman's daughter down a notch other than you? If the world was your oyster this is what you would be doing for the rest of your life. “That's what I thought. Don't forget your fucking place. And tell me where your place is?” You egg her on, you know Aeri knows the answer to this question. Her eyes look away from yours and she can only bite her lip. So you stop thrusting for a moment, which causes a whiny mewl to leave Aeri's lips.

“My place is..” she takes her time pronouncing the words. It only increases your satisfaction of watching the proud woman suddenly melt into a girl who only has her eyes on you. “...below you.” A smile slaps onto your face, your hand lands on her hair, caressing her so softly. You know she's waiting for her reward and it's your job to give her what she wants.

You bottom out in Aeri's cunt, filling her up, a cuss falls out of her mouth. Your hand goes under her thighs and pushes her knees beside her head. Your fucking her rough and murderously fast, she's practically screaming. Your cock is hitting a perfect spot, your teeth are gritting together. “This is what good girls get when they act good.” You say, your voice low and deep as Aeri reaches yet another earth shattering orgasm. Yours is on the way soon, with the way your balls are tightening. You slide out of her, you take off your condom, then you push yourself back in.

“No- wait, you can't. That's too-” Your hand falls over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, I'm not cumming inside of you, dumb whore. I'm just feeling your insides a bit.” And to your expectations, it felt so good, you should've done this from the start. You're orgasming soon though so you slide out your cock again and let yourself finish on her tits and face.

Both of you are panting, completely out of breath. “What's with you today?” Aeri says, obviously annoyed with you, but you couldn't bother to care. “My wife and I have an interview to get to. I'll shower first.” You ignore her question and take a quick peek at your watch that is currently the only piece of clothing you have along with your ring. “Well, since you didn't read the list of interviewees. My father and I are also getting interviewed. We have no time.” You know what Aeri means and you smile.

She rolls her eyes and grabs you by the elbow and leads you to the washroom. Suddenly you feel like you have an extra 20 minutes to spare. So long as you get another blow from her. “Let's get each other clean, Uchinaga.”

—

“Do you know how much we're running late?!” You hear Yizhuo say from the second floor of your mansion. “Honey, we're fine. It's a 25 minute drive.” You were thankful that your limo at least had champagne in there to keep you company as your wife freaks out over the time.

Your eyes catch Yizhuo peeking down at you from the ledge of the stairs. Her face coloured in seriousness with her full lips pursed into an unhappy one. You lock eye contact with her and pull out one of your award winning smiles, the one that you'd use during the interview.

“Get off your phone, and tell the chauffeur to pull around.” Yizhuo's voice is elegant and perfect, and you know she means it. “Now, please.” Though it doesn't sound like Yizhuo is asking, rather she's demanding, and of course you comply. You go outside to see your chauffeur, an older gentleman with grey hair and a heartwarming aura.

“Pull around the limo, the one with alcohol. Thank you, Greg.” He nods at your words with a polite smile on his face, and he's off to get the car. You turn around to go grab your blazer and Yizhuo's fur coat off the couch.

“Sweetheart, thank you for getting my coat. You're perfect.” Yizhuo says, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek as you open the door outside for her. “Anything for you, my beloved.” You say, holding the coat open for her to slip on easily, which she does. You throw on your black coat easily. Yizhuo's coat is black fur, befitting of her white cocktail dress.

“You look gorgeous, I'm almost hurt that someone else will see you looking this good.” You compliment, earning a smile and an elegant giggle from your wife. “And all of this will be yours when we get home. As long as you're on your best behaviour.” She says coyly, and you could practically feel your cock hardening under your pants.

You couldn't wait to get this over with, get home and collect your prize. Whether you would live up to deserve it… well we'll find out.

[jeonginslefthand]

More please ♡🩸

Pairing: Vampire!BangChan x Reader Genre: Suggestive (18+. minors/ageless blogs do not interact <3)/Thriller Word count: 2.0k+ Summary: You caught Chan in the middle of his midnight activities, marking the start of an unexpected relationship.  Warnings: Kidnapping mentioned, force feeding, grinding, biting, blood (lots of it), small mentions of depression A/N: Railway MV has made me feral and I had an idea. Also hope writing this will cure my writer's block for the San series cause I'm struggling rn. This is more of a drabble and [mostly] proofread. Hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Stray kids masterlist

~~~

“I need more~”

It hurts when Chan bites into your neck. You expected some pain, but not a pain like this. It stings and there’s an ache you can’t begin to describe. But it feels somewhat arousing. Chan on top breathing heavily as he is sucking the life out of you makes you feel something in your core. You forget for a moment that his teeth are sunk in your veins as the agonizing pain turns into pleasure. 

It’s hard to say how you got here in the first place. You and Chan had been acquainted since he moved to your neighborhood a few years ago. Nothing he did ever tipped you off that he could be hiding this secret. And Chan had been careful to keep this secret too. Surviving off animal blood, only feasting on human flesh when he needs to. He was sure he would never get caught. Until last night when you decided to take the shortcut path on your nightly walk and stumbled upon the area where Chan does his bidding. You were frozen in fear unsure what to do as Chan looked at you. So he did what any vampire in hiding would. He took you back to his hideout away from the world until he could figure out his next move. 

And here you are, under him as he’s making up for his interrupted midnight snack. By now he feels he sufficiently made up for the interruption and slowly removes his teeth from your neck. You feel that stinging pain again and feel a bit faintish. You see out the corner of your eye blood dripping from the two fresh holes. Gross yet arousing at the same time. Chan notices and licks up the excess blood as if he wants to savor your taste. You feel another jolt of pain, but Chan massaging the area with his tongue helps to ease the pain and turns it into more pleasure. 

“Your blood tastes so sweet~” Chan growls as he licks the remaining blood and pulls away from you. “I swear I could drink this forever.” 

It sure felt like he was going on forever. You even forgot that he did kidnap you and that the bodies of his previous victims surrounded you. Coming back to reality the fear returns to you wondering if that is your fate. 

“C-Chan… I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. A-and you can have all the blood you want just please let me go.” You mutter out on the verge of tears. 

“Oh I will have all the blood I want, 'cause you’re not leaving here,” Chan responds smiling, baring his sharp teeth now covered in blood. You flinch for a moment thinking he’s going back in for seconds. Chan notices and chuckles in response. 

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t hurt you more than I need to. It would be a shame if you died on me.”

~~~

Despite the situation, Chan is pretty gentle with you. Aside from the blood-sucking sessions, he makes sure you’re well taken care of. You find out that the place you’ve been taken to was a castle, somewhere far off in the mountains. You slowly fall in love with the gothic architecture exploring a new room each day. You even have your room, decorated head to toe in the dark gothic aesthetic with a soft queen-sized bed made just for you. 

Chan cooks for you every night. At first, you refused to eat the meals, still in fear of what he could do and barely working up an appetite. After a few days of the act, Chan got annoyed and one day took matters into his own hands. 

“Come on sweetie, if you don’t eat your blood won’t pump properly and you’ll be weak.” Chan calmly says as he forces a piece of chicken into your mouth. You try your hardest to resist but his vampire strength overpowers you. Tears well up in your eyes and fall on your plate. You want to spit the chicken out but you can’t bring yourself to it as Chan stares at you intensely, wiping the tears away from your cheek. 

“Aww don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay. The chicken tastes good right?” Chan coos and you nod in response. 

“Good. Then swallow~” Chan commands.

You hesitate for a moment but reluctantly swallow. The chicken wasn’t bad, but you still feel a lump in your throat. You want your body to reject the food so badly but you also hadn’t eaten for days and knew that eventually you would have to give in. 

Chan feeds you the rest of the chicken and side dishes. This was the only way you were going to eat for that night, still in fear that he could do much worse. After that day you stopped refusing to eat knowing that Chan wouldn’t hesitate to force-feed you again. You two started having somewhat normal dinners. Chan would talk about his day and sometimes the drama going on at his day job and you would talk about the room you explored that day and your thoughts. Sometimes he would talk about his past life, his experiences, and what it was like being the way he is. These deeper talks made you more intrigued about him. He was slowly peeling back layers revealing his true nature, showing there was some humanity left in those eyes. 

~~~ 

Of course, Chan would still get a taste of your blood now and then. Biting in the same spot, careful not to take too much that you faint, but enough to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. You got used to the pain and a part of you almost looked forward to these sessions. The pure ecstasy you felt with Chan on top and pressed against you as you were helpless under him, you almost didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more from him. 

One time you decided to make a bold request to Chan at dinner.

“I want you to suck my blood tonight,” you stated clearly. Chan nearly chokes on his food shocked that you’re taking the initiative this time. 

“Y/N, I appreciate the offer and you know I would love that. But I’m fine it’s only been a week.” Chan responds.  

“But I want you to! I need that feeling of you sinking your teeth into me. It’s addicting and I want more of it!” 

Chan gets up and walks over to your seat and leans towards you. 

“I have a better idea sweetie~,” Chan says. 

“And what is that?” you respond, desperate for him to do something. Anything.

Chan leans in closer and presses his lips into yours. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate kissing him back. The same feeling of desire is felt between both of you, but more intense than when Chan is stealing your blood. Eventually, you stand up and push him on the table (well, more like he lets you) kissing him deeper and with a passion you’ve never felt. The air feels warm around you, savoring Chan’s taste while your mind’s on cloud 9. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about this. Wondering what his lips would feel like in other areas of your body besides the sensitive vein of your neck. 

The burning desire in your core doesn’t settle down and you instinctively grind on Chan’s thigh to get some kind of relief. Chan doesn’t notice drunk on his desire for you, but eventually, he pulls away and places his hands on your hips. 

“Feeling a bit needy today I see~” Chan teases. 

“Oh you have no idea,” you say shakily, catching your breath.

Chan starts to respond with a witty joke but you sink back into his lips before he responds. You kiss him harder than the first time and the desire builds up in your core harder. The room feels it’s on fire as you and Chan feel each other’s hot breaths and as you continue to grind his thigh. Chan gets so lost in your soft moans that he doesn’t notice his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He presses on your lips harder and his fangs accidentally sink into your lip as you yelp in pain. Shocked by your scream, Chan quickly pulls away from you, but also accidentally knocks over a plate in the process remember that the two of you were making out on the dinner table. 

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry!” Chan says concerned, caressing your lip. The blood quickly drips down from your mouth covering the lower half of your face. 

“Chan I’m fine! It didn’t hurt but it was shocking. Maybe… warn me next time,” you respond with a witty tone. 

“Funny. But still, don’t want you to lose too much blood.” Chan leans towards your lips again and starts licking up the blood starting from your chin and ending with your bottom lip. He passionately licks every last drop like it’s the last he’ll ever get your blood. 

“Say… why don’t we continue this somewhere else,” Chan suggests as he pulls away from you. You look at him hazy with lust and out of the corner of your eye notice a certain desire growing in his pants.

“I think that’s a great idea love~”     

~~~

After that erotic night, it felt like time slowed down living with Chan. You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here. Maybe a couple of months? A little under a year? In your mind, you knew you had to go back to your old life, back to your friends and family. They have probably been looking for you. But in your heart, you didn’t care. Nothing in your life mattered anymore except Chan and his twisted love for you. You would give anything to be with him, to stay with him forever. 

One night as the two of you cuddled in bed, you suddenly brought up another proposition. 

“Channie, do you think you can… turn me into a vampire?” you ask suddenly. 

“W-what?!” Chan says, taken aback. 

“I-It’s just an idea. I’ve seen it done a lot in vampire shows. But knowing what I know about you now I don’t know how accurate that is. And I realize that you’re the only one I want to be with for a long time and it would suck dying knowing you would still live on forever…” 

Chan is silent processing your request. You give him some time and then follow up with your statement.

“It’s okay if you can’t and I’m probably overthinking this. That’s so far ahead of us and I’m happy spending whatever time we have. I just love you so much and—”

“No no, I can turn you. It’s possible but… are you sure you want this?” Chan says cutting you off. “It’s a dangerous path to take. The constant bloodlust is not easy to control. And there are many days that there will be a numbing feeling you can’t get rid of. Constantly feeling empty and at some point feeling like life isn’t worth it is not something I want for you.”

“I don’t care if I spend the rest of my days hating the world. As long as I’m with you I won’t feel empty. Doesn’t matter if that’s 10 years or the next 1000 years, life with you will always have meaning!” 

Another moment of silence passes and Chan pulls you into his chest. He starts stroking your hair as he responds.

“There’s no talking you out of this is there?” Chan sighs. 

You giggle into his chest. “I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I can!~” 

Chan kisses your forehead. “Then, enjoy your last night being human love~”

You fall asleep into Chan’s arm as he drifts off to sleep. Who knew what the next years would look like for the two of you? You dream of all the potential adventures you two would go on, the lives you would live. It would be chaotic and messy, but that didn’t matter to you. In the end, you can call the man you once feared yours and you were his. And you couldn’t want anything more.

~~~

If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!

[bueckersg1rl]

i forgot i wrote this when i was DEEP into my pazzi phase so enjoy i guess 😭😭

this is unedited and my first and last time writing this shit is not for the weakk

how many drinks? (paige bueckers x azzi fudd)

warnings: underage drinking, suggestive, angsty? idk what to tag lol im not a writer

“paigeee” azzi whined, tired of the constant badgering from her best friend.

“bro come on azzi! it’s only one night and you literally never go out” paige quickly retaliated, pacing around the younger girl’s room.

“not when we have finals next week! you, out of all people should know how much work i need to catch up on. plus, my dad’s literally going to kill me!” azzi complained, fidgeting with the silver ring occupying her middle finger. with a smirk creeping up on paige’s face, azzi could already predict the words that were about to come out of the blonde's mouth.

“we can always sneak out..” she giggled, finally coming to a halt infront of azzi, lips slightly pouting as she put on a frown.

“please?” she gazed into azzi’s eyes, lips tugging into a smirk when azzi started to tilt her head back, eyes darting into every direction but paiges.

“madison im going to kill you one day i swear to God” azzi groaned, sitting further up her bed.

“so.. is that a yes?” paige squealed, unable to contain her excitement anymore. with a sigh, azzi rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at the older girl, before finally sighing with a yes.

“bro azzi youre the best! you know theres gonna be a dj right? and so, so much vodka!!” paige trailed on, while azzi simply fell back into the comfort of her bed listening to her best friend talk.

******

two hours had passed, and the pair couldn’t contain their excitement anymore. azzi was dressed in a tank top and a cute black miniskirt, the hem of the skirt settling just below her ass. paige, who wasn’t that concerned of what she was wearing had a flannel shirt and a pair of skinny jeans on. however, azzis outfit had definitely caught her attention. the way her tank top hugged her curves perfectly and the skirt that wrapped around her ass, it was impossible for paige to take her eyes off azzi, but she wasnt meant to feel like that about her bestfriend. mumbling something under her breath, she was quickly refocused on their plans of sneaking out of the fudd residence. azzi dashed down the corridor to triple check her parents were asleep, before signalling to paige that they were ready to leave. carefully, paige opened the window and started to climb out, shortly followed by azzi. the cool air hit their faces, the warmth and comfort of azzis room washing away. paige quickly got the address of the party up on her phone, only a short 10 minute walk. skipping and giggling their way to the party, they quickly arrived, buzzed off nervousness and excitement. azzi nervously glanced at paige,

“are you sure we can be here? what if the cops pull up? what if we get banned from basketball?”

“chill out azzi. you know i wouldnt put you in that sorta situation.”

"and if you do, i am literally going to kill you.” azzi bit back, tagging behind paige as they walked into the house.

*******

“look azzi! they’re playing 7 minutes in heaven! let’s go pleaseee” paige slurred, after four too many shots of straight vodka.

“are you serious? paige i haven’t had my first kiss yet and it sure as hell isn’t gonna be at this party.”

“you can always just say no… and plus, if not now, then when?”

“can you at least lemme get more wasted first?”

“yeah yeah whatever!” paige dismissed, grabbing azzis arm as azzi swiftly downed a shot and chaser and pulled her towards the crowd. the pair sat down in the circle, paige’s arm wrapped tightly around azzis shoulder. the game began, and one by one couples would disappear into the closet and reemerge, hair messed up and cheeks flushed. after 5 rounds, it was finally azzis turn. as she spun the bottle, she silently wished the bottle would break. she shut her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for the outcome. all of a sudden, a series of cheers and whistles erupted, as she felt paige’s arm that was wrapped around her shoulder grip onto her hand, leading her towards the closet. pushing themselves into the closet, azzi spoke up first.

"hi paige!" she giggled, playing with her fingers that were still firmly wrapped around her own hand.

"hi azzi," paige whispered, "you know you look really good tonight."

"only tonight?" azzi teased, stepping in front of paige so they were meeting eye to eye.

"you know you look good everyday azzi, dont play."

paiges eyes were slightly glazed, darting from azzis eyes and lips, indecisive between the two. azzi leaned in, closing any remaining gap between them. paige immediately cupped her hand on azzi’s flushed cheek, feeling the heat radiating into her hand. she couldn’t help but pull away and breaking into a smile, taking in what just unfolded before her.

“did i do something wrong? oh fuck i totally misread this didn’t i paige im so sor-“

before she knew it, paige’s lips were attached again, this time with more force and emotion. the older girl’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer. azzi, unsure of where to place her hands, figured around the waist was the safest option, but as her cold fingertips came in contact with paige’s warm body, a spark ignited in both of them, fervently making out, hands exploring each other’s bodies. after what felt like a minute, a series of knocks pounded at the door. the slight giggles sneaking into the closet cut through the tension, with voices of girls outside the door squealing,

“7 minutes is up get outttt lovebirds!"

almost instantly, paige shoved azzi off her, hurriedly running her hands through her hair and straightening out her top.

“bro fuck what did we just do? oh my god bro this wasn't supposed to happen” azzi, still in shock of what just happened, mindlessly gaped at paige until she could form coherent words. the brunette was able to muster out a single word, fuelling paiges panic.

“what?”

paige started cursing again, to herself, to azzi, who knew? she pushed past the younger girl, out the door, and back into the party. azzi however, was still managing to collect her feelings.

"what the actual fuck just happened?" she asked herself, fixing her miniskirt which had ridden up to her hips. after a few minutes, azzi pushed the door open, to be met with some of paiges friends that she met earlier.

"azzi! oh my godd girll you look soooo good" one giggled, the other trying to balance on her two feet. azzi gave a polite smile, asking if both were okay, before she pushed through the crowd to find paige again. when she finally saw a glimpse of her blonde hair, azzis jaw dropped to the floor, her eyes in a trance at the unbelievable audacity paige had. there she had been, making out with azzi 10 minutes ago, but now sliding her toned arms across another brunette's shoulders, the girl giggling at whatever paige was saying. paige looked up, directly into azzis long-lashed, beautiful brown eyes, but before she could even blink, azzi was gone.

[frostara]

Challenges

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: It takes some time to get to know each other, and lots of words to understand.

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: characters miscommunicate at first, but overall fluff, Cregan is 17, Astrid is 15

Notes: Hi! This could be read as chapter 2 for this work, but does pretty well on its own. All thanks to one person who asked for a second part - I hope you'll like it </3 I wanted to describe Cregan and Astrid the way they are - youthful people, with their own beliefs that are sometimes wrong (Astrid is so silly I love her) and quick to change temper. I worked on this drabble a little harder and hopefully, it was worth it!

Winterfell was like a living being—always alert and ready, yet calm and composed. It thrived with the quiet bustle of its people, the rustle of dry bushes, and cold of its stone walls. A guarded place, where the only thing Astrid had to worry about was herself. At least for now.

One moon have passed since she was wed to the Lord of the Winterfell, and yet, she felt rather wary of him. Cregan, whom she called so yet in her mind, was always surrounded by either maister-at-arms or castellan, which left her seeking his attention that he could not give.

Though, Astrid would be forever ungrateful if said that she was entirely alone. She had grown quite fond of maester Alvin, an old grey-haired man, but skilled and cunning like no one. He often inquired after her well-being with genuine courtesy and shared his wise thoughts, for which she was forever grateful.

Yet the companionship of one old master could not fill the void of loneliness. Her handmaidens, taught to serve their lady quietly, rarely spoke unless adressed directly. To make them speak freely was a challenge, but one she welcomed.

"My Lady, Lord Cregan sent me to let it be known that he awaits you in Godswood, and I am to accompany You on Your way," said Ethel as she entered chambers after a gentle knock. She was a pretty girl, not much older than Astrid, and probably the one she was fond of.

"Right. Well then, let us not keep the Lord waiting," - Astrid replied, standing perhaps more quickly than intended, letting Ethel drape a warm cloak over her frame to shield her from wind in this chilly weather.

As they made their way, her nervousness spilled in questions she bothered Ethel with: "Was Lord in a good mood? Did he seem upset with anything? Was he alone?" She could swear on all Old Gods that Ethel was laughing at her, but skillfully maintained her composure. Though, Astrid was too nervous to pay attention to that, pressing on. Luckily, the walk was short, and soon they were able to see the red leaves that framed the massive tree. Ethel bowed and turned her back, leaving Astrid to herself.

She took a moment to steady herself before stepping closer to where Cregan stood. She felt cold seep through her body, making her shiver. Heart tree was there, proudly emracing everything with its branches as if hiding from the sky. He looked like a real Stark, in a place he was always supposed to be. And Astrid was just a huble guest, even if being his wife. Light wind was playing with his dark hair, moving leaves casting shadows on his stern face.

"My Lord wished to see me?"

He turned to face her, his black eyes softening slightly as a polite smile tugged at his lips. "I did. I wish to know how my Lady fares."

Cregan walked towards her, and it was only then that she noticed a crimson leaf he was holding in his hand. She returned his smile, though uncertain of what to say. He seemed to be unbothered by silence that layed between them, as he studied her appearance. During their wedding he barely payed attention to her. Perhaps, that was why he was observing her so carefully now.

"I am very happy to be here," - Astrid nodded to her words, as if to make sure he believed her. "Winterfell does not cease to amaze me."

Cregan hummed to himself, not really putting his mind to her words. He seemed lost in thoughts, and these thoughts were far away from here. Far from her. She felt subtle sting in her when she thought of it. Why did he call her, if he still did not care about her being?

He was still holding the leaf in his callused hands, twirling it with his fingers when he brought it to her, putting it in her braided hair.

"Red suits you well. Has anyone told you that before?"

He murmured, seeming to be pleased with his work, running his fingers along her braid, his lingering touch leaving Astrid speechless. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide her confusion. He was gentle, almost reverent, and it warmed her heart in a way she never felt before. Was this the first time he truly saw her as a wife?

"No, my Lord. I believe you are the first to notice."

Cregan took his hand away from her hair, offering his elbow for her to grab. "Very well. Let us walk, I would not wish for you to get cold while standing here," - as he put his hand on his sword.

Astrid hesitated a moment before wrapping her fingers around his clothed arm, feeling the soft fur and fabric of his cloack, contrasting with his cold and rough to touch sword, accepting the offer. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to spend time with him in the godswood, a sacred place. Though it was still a mystery to her, what made him be so attentive to her today?

It was very quiet there, only rare birds chirping and leaves rustle could be heard. Astrid took a deep breath, enjoying frosty and fresh air that smelled of wood and earth. She found this moment very peaceful, this walk was a sweet gesture and it was not nice of her to doubt her husbands kindness.

"I have been thinking about our marriage," Cregan began after a while. "It seems to me that I have not fulfilled my duties to you. For this, I ask your understanding, and, perhaps, your forgiveness."

Cregan turned his gaze to her, awaiting what she has to say. She was now taken aback by his words. A suspicious thought was starting to form in her head - his previous behaviour could not be judged, it fitted his position. But these gentle words now were not sounding like the ones he would actually say. An odd feeling took place in her, yet, she could only listen to him right now.

"It is no secret to me how tiring your position may be," she started carefully. "And I could never hold it against you."

She studied his face, searching for any sign of anger or discomfort. Yet a gnawing curiosity urged her to push further. Astrid evased any other words from him, now being curious to get an answer for her thoughts:

"My Lord, if I may ask, did someone suggest that you speak to me like that?" - she stopped, making her husband follow her action, now facing each other. He was confused, and he could not hide that, making it obvious he was not prepared for such confrontation. Astrid believed there was also a hint of irritation in his expression.

"In what way are you implying this?" he asked, his tone guarded but lacking the harshness she feared.

Cregan even forgot to adress her properly. It made Astrid smile ever so slightly, now making her scared that she could offend him with her words.

"Do not misunderstand me, my Lord, but your actions are...rather opposing your character, which makes me suggest that you might have sought an advice about our relationship from someone."

She tried her best to sound friendly and not too arrogant, but confused look on his face eased her worries - he probably could not be angry with her now, that he looked so amusing. Astrid awaited patiently, when he finally spoke up.

"First of all, do not jest with me in such a way," he replied, his voice firm but lacking true anger. "I may be your husband, but my behavior is none of yours to question."

He glanced away, looking in direction of a bird that landed on a low-hanging branch nearby. The pause gave Astrid a moment to collect herself, and she only smiled at her thoughts, now being more confident to continue.

"Forgive me," her tone sincere. "I only wanted to make sure I understood the situation well." She reached out, lightly tugging on his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he caught her hand in his. For a moment, they stood frozen, her smaller hand caught in his. He did not let go, and his grip, though firm, was not harsh.

Wind sent another gust as couple of bright red leaves fell from tree, falling at their legs. Laying onthe ground, they could be mistaken for small pools of blood. It sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the movement was visible for Cregan. It made him snap from frozen state as he let her hand hung in the air, bringing his own to his sword, slight embarrasment from an intimate moment made him cough, as if to shift their attention away.

But Astrid still was confused. Was she right then? Perhaps, her behaviour made it impossible for her Lord to seek her company? She felt nervousness fill her heart once again, making her clasp her hands together on stomach, as if trying to calm herself down.

"Maester Alvin is someone you could consider guilty," Cregan's voice cut through silence, breaking the formed pause.

"Though, I believe, his intentions were kind."

"Should I be grateful for it then?" she bit on her inner cheeck, fidgeting with cold fingers. Astrid felt emarrased: she probably looked so stupid right now; her concern made her act very rude, or atleast, that is what she believed.

"You could at least try to not to be mad at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if looking for the right words. The situation they currently trapped themselves in was quite awkward. Astrid hummed softly at his words in an attemp to answer, but words would get stuck in her throat.

"I am not mad, my Lord" - it was all she could mutter, before quickly facing him away. She was definetly not acting like a modest lady right now. But who was to blame for that?

"Cregan."

Astrid blinked, turning her head back at her husband.

"Call me by my name. You are my wife, you have such right." He shrugged, an unsure smile tugging at his lips.

This time, he held out his hand to her.

"I believe we will have many days to continue this argument, if you wish that," she took his hand, now holding it gently, but with a firm grip, returning his favour as she unconsciously smiled herself.

"But we had spent more than we should have time here. Let us head back to castle, before anyone starts looking for us."

Their way back was more pleasant, as the silence that followed them was now a welcomed one, sometimes interrupted with quiet laughter.

[coichii]

WHITE CHRISTMAS

—(🎧)—> y/n seeing snow for the first time

pairing - bf!seungmin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 1.2k

warnings - written by a girl who’s had like 3 good snows in her lifetime, this is bad I’m in writers block

series note : hello !! welcome to part seven of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “White Christmas ” by Bing Crosby. enjoy <3

“It’s seriously freezing.” You shiver, burrying your self into Seungmin and the warm, plaid blanket layed upon both of you.

It’s winter, of course, frost nipping at your nose. On top of that, it was Christmas Eve. Carolers roamed the streets of your neighborhood, knocking on doors and singing their cheery carols.

You loved it. The atmosphere of Christmas always made you feel like a little kid receiving a toy you had on a wishlist for years. Even like a kid sitting on Santa’s lap in one of those crappy mall photoshoot places.

It was magical, but there was one tiny issue that messed with your Christmas ideals.

You had never seen snow before.

It’s hard to believe, but you’ve only ever seen those intricate flurries of soft ice on screen before. It’s been on of your dreams to see it, to play in it, to feel it. All you can hope is that it snows.

It sounds childish, but you don’t care. A snowy Christmas would make the holiday even more cherish-able, which will be hard to top ever since you started dating Seungmin.

Christmas with him was...un describable. He knew how much the season meant to you, and would always do whatever he could to make it enjoyable for you. You loved him for it.

“I can go turn the heat up, baby.” He replies, preparing to stand up. You groan and pull him back down to you, holding on to his shoulders with all your strength.

“Noooo,” you mumble into his chest, pouting as you hear him chuckle. “Don’t leave me. You’re warm. Plus, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He smiles, rubbing his hand over your hair. He swears you’re always so cute like this, but he’ll never let you hear that.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be right back.” He retaliates, pushing you off of him despite your dismissal, giggling cutely at a soft groan that tumbled out of your lips.

You watch him as he walks to the thermostat and turns it on heat, the bitter cold eventually evening out to a toasty warm as you sigh in content.

He settles back down next to you, snuggling comfortably into your side.

It’s blissful like this; you don’t get much alone time, so this Christmas break with him feels perfect. He’s not working, you’re not studying. It’s amazing.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asks, voice suddenly soaked with sleep.

“Is that even a question, Minnie?” You giggle, mind wandering off to that warm, home like place you feel whenever the weather gets cold and jingle bells begin to ring.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.” He laughs back, eyes slipping closed and lips parting in a sleep like matter.

“You tired, bubs? Wanna go sleep?” You ask, and Seungmin flushed pink. He always gets so nervous whenever you call him buns, but he doesn’t know why. You’ve been dating for 2 years, he should be used to it by now, but he’s not.

There’s just something about you that always erupts butterflies in his stomach. Maybe it’s the way you sound and feel or look, but it’s something about you that makes him so bashful and shy.

“A-are you sure? I know you wanted to stay up.” His voice is lower now, his words mixed with a yawn. What type of girlfriend would be if you sat here and let him stay up like this.

“Of course I’m sure, min. C’mon let’s go.” You chuckle, climbing out of his warm embrace and standing up, proceeding to help him stand up himself and leading him to the bedroom.

He’s not sure where he got so lucky.

◂—♥︎—▸

“Wake up, baby! It’s Christmas!”

The sun had began to peak its way into your room beyond the shades, the birds chirping and traffic roaring.

Seungmin began to groan, twisting and turning and grabbing onto your waist tightly. He rest his head on your chest, sighing in content before peeling his boba brown eyes open.

“Mhm.” He mumbles. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He laughs slightly at your excited smile when you leap out of bed to quickly shower. He gets out soon too, body finally acclimated to the new day.

He swiftly opens the blinds, hoping to get some light into the room.

And there, he sees it.

“Y/N!” He shouts, mouthing dropped in shock. You hum back at him, heading peaking out the bathroom. “Baby, it snowed.”

Your heart stops for a while. He’s playing with you, right? He has to be.

“Y-you can’t be serious.” You stumble, walking towards him clad in nothing but a light robe. “H-holy shit.”

You eyes are blinded by the sight, white crystals still fall as the green turf is absolutely filled with snow, children outside already playing and making snowmen.

“Baby! Oh my god we need to go outside! Where’s my coat?” You squeal, practically jumping up and down with excitement and glee.

You’re so overjoyed with happiness you could almost cry. Snow. It’s really, really snow.

“Hold on. I know you’re excited, but shouldn’t you open your gift first?” He ask, tipping his head to side.

“Ughhhh, but it’s snow!” You groan, rolling your eyes and shaking his shoulders with your hands. You look so adorable to him, but he really just wants you to open your damn gift.

“I promise, you can go out immediately after. But please, open your gift first.”

“Ugh.” You sigh, finally giving in. “Fine. I’ll do the gift first but immediately after, it’s snow.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“B-baby. I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

You open the gift to find a beautiful, heart shaped diamond necklace with Seungmin’s name engraved inside. It was gorgeous, the light blue tint shining, and shimmering with the highlights from the overhead light.

“L-look. I got a matching one too.“ He shyly, mumbles, covering his face with one of his hands and pulling out a matching but smaller necklace from his pocket.

“Seungmin, it’s beautiful. I fucking love you so much.” You say, crashing into him with a tight embrace and snuggling your head into his chest.

“I love you too, baby.” He giggles, becoming flustered at your excited reaction. “ C’mon, Let’s play in this snow.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“Oh my gosh, Seungmin! It’s so fluffy!” You shriek, laying on the snow and pressing it to your face.

“Hold on baby, you’ll catch a cold.” He laughs, moving to sit next to you. He watches as your eyes sparkle with admiration and happiness, heart being warmed by the sight.

“I don’t care. It’s so fluffy And cold and lovely I just love it so much.” You go on, drawing even more laughs from the man beside you.

“Oh baby baby! Let’s make a snowman!” You jump up and down, grabbing a ball of snow and meshing it with others.

“Whatever you want, Y/N.” He goes with the flow, helping you put together pieces of the tiny snowman you created on your front lawn.

He lets you do most of the work, watching with a spark in his eye as yours mirror his.

He loves the side of you, he Loves how childish you can be, How excited and happy you get over the smallest things.

It just makes that birthday present of a ring he has even more special.

[simp-ly-writes]

The Assassin's Wife

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Wife!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: To put it simply, you are the wife of Charles Calthrop having met him at a work event over a decade ago, your romance was story-book perfection up until when you learned he kills people for a living...

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, swearing, lying, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, Marissa (OC), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,570

─ · · A/N: post number 300! woohoo! soo... I kinda really loved this ask and wrote a whole bunch for it. Be ready for some fluff, angst, and then fluff again!

─────── · ·

─ · · You had been married to your husband, Charles, for well over a decade now. You had met him while attending a work event overseas, your job always had you traveling keeping you from starting any longterm relationships up until you met Charles that faithful night.

─ · · You remember the deep navy blue suit he wore with a light blue dress-shirt underneath. His accessories were silver and by the family signet ring on his finger, you knew him to be coming from wealth and to your surprise as he greeted you with a kiss to the back of your palm, he made his empire himself as he described to you over a few too many glasses at the bar.

─ · · Charles swept you off your feet that night with his lingering looks on your lips, the way he gently held your hand, interlacing your fingers before pulling you outside and to a cab. You remember his touch trailing up your thigh as you gasped at the back of the cab before clearing your throat and placing your head against his shoulder... much like the position you found yourself in currently as you watched your husband sleep, his arm snuggly around your side, head against his bare chest as you traced the various scars across it with curiosity.

Your husband explained to you the multitude of stories on how he obtained each scar and warp of skin as you kissed everyone the same; with love and attention as he had shown you. You simply adored how hard working he was, always away and coming back with that necklace you were eyeing in the market or a surprise vacation. But you couldn't help but miss him, want him with you, and you didn't know if that was selfish of you or not to want him with you constantly when he provided for you with utmost dedication.

─ · · But after so many years of gifts and hugs at the airport as you waved him goodbye. You felt lonely sitting in the parking lot wondering the next time you would see your husband and quite frankly, all of your friends told you he was most likely cheating on you by how often and long he was away without messaging or calling you.

You always waved away their concerns for your wellbeing as you took care of the estate, went to work for a few hours of the day before busying yourself with random hobbies and studying various topics for the off chance Charles would bring it up in conversation during one of his work rants, you liked to call them. Remembering the weight of his head in your lap, the feeling of his soft golden curls running through your fingers as he said every time, without fault, "I'd much rather be here with you, my love." But did he ever fall through with those words? no. But you loved your husband regardless.

─ · · You would always pick him up form the airport when he called the night before, waiting in a sundress with drinks and snacks ready in the car for the long ride back. Charles would place his large hand on your knee as you drove, charming you endlessly with his commentary the whole ride home, "I was beginning to forget just how beautiful you were, had to come back." "What an angel, you are. My guardian angel just meant for me." "You look as raidient as the sun in that dress, my love." "Remind me to kiss you with the same desperation I feel now when we stop."

And like clockwork, you would flush under his loving stare and words before being pulled into bed in an outward display of his love that would leave your legs weak in the morning and him bringing you both up breakfast in bed before presenting you another gift.

You held a tight smile while accepting the gift this time, not wanting to seem ungrateful yet your heart desired the non-material... and it seemed Charles understood this, had been planning something for awhile. You observed the box to be moving and to have... hole in it? You thought to yourself before looking to your husband with shock and confusion as a little bark sounded from inside.

"Charles, darling. You. Did. NOT," you gasp before throwing off the lid as a puppy comes bursting out to your chest, licking your face with gratitude before exploring the bed. Charles picks up the fluffy creature, leading it back to you before sitting near the foot on the bed, massaging your leg gently with a smile, "I know you've been feeling lonely recently and I apologize. I promise that after this next job... I won't have to work as much, this is just the last thing, I promise."

You stare into his eyes for a moment, the puppy wigging in your arms as you pet their head and scratch behind their ears with a subconscious smile growing on your face. "Really?!" you ask excitedly, blinking away tears of hope in your eyes seeing as Charles chuckles softly before you, crawling towards you both and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, catching a kiss on the chin by your new pet as well, "Yes."

─────── · ·

─ · · Charles had actually stayed for longer than you were used to, something about preparing and studying his opponent to strike the best deal. You nodded along, interested but confused on the details of this supposed interaction he had planned as you both walked the dog around the garden property line.

"When we get back, I just have to jot-down the rest of the details before I can join you two for dinner. I picked up your favourite bottle from the market earlier that I was thinking we could share?" You nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unclipping your new companion from their leash, watching as they run inside and to their water dish.

Charles's arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your exposed neck, feeling his smile against your skin, "I love you, darling." You rest your hands atop of his, leaning against his chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warm evenings breeze drifting across both of your forms before taking a deep breath and watching as Charles leaves you and heads to his study.

You get dinner moving, dancing and singing around the kitchen as your puppy runs between your feet, barking cheerfully and trying to dance alongside you. Giggling you pick him up, resting his upper arms on your shoulder as you use them as your partner, spinning and twirling towards the living before placing them in their back in their bed.

Your phone goes off as you rush back to the stove and take the tray out and leave it to cool in front of an open window before cutting the bread. "Smells divine in here," you jump, starting and nicking yourself on the knife, cursing softly as you watch the blood drip from the small cut with a wince before heading towards the sink.

Charles is distraught at the sight of you bleeding, taking quick long strides over to your form, holding your elbow gently as he inspects the small nick, "I'm so sorry," he mumbles a few times between kisses to your face before he moves to get the first-aid kit underneath the skin, patting the counter for you to sit upon as he stands between your legs and dresses the cut.

You smile at how softly he touches you, apologizing as you wince at the solution to cleanse the cut before kissing the bandaged finger afterwards. "I'm quite alright, Charles. Just a minor thing-" you begin to explain yet your husband just shakes his head, annoyed with myself. "I shouldn't have distracted you, got you hurt in the first place, I hate seeing you with this," he holds up your hand in front of both of your faces.

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

You watch as he smiles, brings up dinner and walks past whatever... episode he seemingly just had as if it had never happened in the first place... a mere fragment of your imagination. You furrowed your brows, jumping down from the kitchen counter before filling up both your plates and following Charles out to the patio where a table set with candles was prepared for you both.

Your heart tremors in your chest, watching as he pulls out a chair for you before pushing you in and seating himself. Pouring glasses of wine for you both with a cheers you gulp down the liquid quickly before gently placing the glass back down on the table and taking a bite of your food, debating weather or not to bring up what had just happened or not.

You ultimately decide not too, enjoying this moment that has been few and far between in recent months as your husband charms you like the first day you met, with coy smiles and charming words that have you falling into his arms and back into bed where you rest upon his chest, listening to his heart beating for you once more.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your friends call you in the morning as you invite them over before telling Charles, you rush towards his office in case he is still undressed for they all would be coming shortly to use the pool.

Knocking at the door, his voice invites you in to see the puppy in his lap as Charles fixes his glasses, looking up from the documents scattered across his desk to you with a loving smile and crinkled eyes, "good morning my love, I'm sorry I was not there to wake you."

You wave a hand on his face walking over and pulling him in for a kiss before looking over the papers and blueprints curiously, hand hovering over the smear of red ink against the corner of a crumpled page before Charles' voice redirects your attention with a hand to your hip, giving a gently squeeze, "was there something you wanted to say?"

"Oh, yes!" you jump back to your previous thoughts watching as he turns away from the desk, the dog jumping off his lap and running down the hall leaving the seat empty. You stare for a moment debating, knowing that if you sit down you might not be ready in time. The Jackal did not care about what you were thinking in the moment though, simply gabbing you by your waist and allowing you to fall into his lap.

"Marissa and my other friends are coming over shortly to use the pool, I just thought to let you know beforehand so you could get ready as well," you explain, playing with the buttons to his creme linen shirt listening to him hum. "I'm afraid that I still have-" you look at him with pleading eyes, hand brushing against the skin of his chest and trailing down, watching as the words die on his lips, "...alright. I'll be there shortly."

You quickly stand back up with a smile, cheering happily listening to him laugh before rushing back to your wardrobe to pick a swimsuit and throw-over for the occasion.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounds at the door that has you nearly falling down the stairs and rushing to hug your guests. Marissa squeals in your ear, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you both swing side to side. She presents you a bottle of wine and a platter of fresh fruits which you bring out to the deck, showing your guests to where the fridge and restrooms were.

─ · · You feel overjoyed having the house filled and to see the dog running around and jumping after their toys in the pool. You lean back in a lounge, soaking up the sun before a shadow overtakes the warmth. You peel up your sunglasses, as Marissa tits her head to the side, mouthing, follow me. You raise a brow in question but follow her nevertheless into the pool house in which she quickly closes the door and shuts the blinds on both of you.

"Marissa?" you call out her name, squinting through the darkness before flicking on the light," Is everything alright?" you ask again watching as her smile wavers, hands shaking as she moves to grip your own. "I think it's best for you to sit before I say anything..." her thumbs brush against the back of your hands soothingly, your heart races- debating of weather or not to quickly grab Charles for whatever news you were about to be it with.

Seemingly knowing your thoughts, Marissa shakes her head, taking a seat beside you on a stack of spare cushions for your outdoor furniture. "This is about Charles," she explains- you debate weather or not to roll your eyes. "Of course it is. What news do we have this time?" you ask, feeling irritated as you side your hands away from her touch. She looks at you for a moment before sighing, "I know you feel as though I am in the wrong for calling out your relationship and maybe I am, maybe I'm not but I only want you to be safe and happy... you're my best friend, hun and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You nod smiling, "same goes to you-"

"Yes," Marissa cuts you off, playing with her hair, "thats why I'm telling you that your husband isn't who you think he is." She bites her lip, waiting on your reaction. You lean your head forwards, "go on?" wanting to indulge in another one of her 'stories.' She cuts right to the chase.

"He kills people." You gasp, standing up and shaking your finger, "No, NO, Marissa! That is too far this time!" you stomp your way towards the door, shoulders rising upwards and tight, I can't believe she has the audacity to say such a thing. "PLEASE," Marissa runs up, gripping your arm, nearly on her knees begging, "let me explain... I-I have evidence." Your heat drops at her sincerity, the way her large tearful eyes grip your own, forcing you to take a seat again as she pulls open her phone- your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

You look at the various articles she has saved to her camera roll, the dates of the murders lining up with the most recent trips of your husband. "This could only be a coincidence right?" Marissa does not say a word, simply flipping her phone horizontally and pressing play to a news broadcast recording:

"Witnesses have identified the assassin to be a 6ft male with an athletic build. Crime investigators have released the following identikit based upon multiple accounts and ask that if you have any information on where the killer is or where they plan on going to contact local and world police immediately for the safety of the greater public."

You feel sick, head falling between your knees as you shake and cry, knowing that illustration to be hauntingly similar to the love of your life... or so you thought him to be.

Marissa rubs your back in soothing circling motions before looking towards the door and whispering her next words to you carefully, "Please, come with me tonight. Say that something happened with my family and that I need your support. We'll pack and bag and get you out," you nod along, lost in your thoughts and not quite catching her words- ears ringing from overstimulation, the clothes on your body soon feel to hot as you grip your skin in panic.

"I-I he wouldn't lie to me this way... he said he-he loved me?" you hiccup in between cries, now walking around in circles within the small space- wavering on the line of hysteria. "I have to go talk to him, this is a misunderstanding, they have the wrong accounts, they, they..." you shake your head, trying to clear your mind to no avail.

Marissa stands, gripping your shoulders, shaking you, begging you to listen to her, "Please, stay with me for tonight at least. I don't feel safe leaving you here with him, not with what we both know... he could kill us if he knows... we know..." You fall over, back into the cushions, your head feeling to heavy for your body as your spots of black start to cloud over your vision. "M-Marissa?" you beg for what you don't know as she hugs you, begging you to stand and move with her.

"Please, we have to go now. Stop the tears, we must leave-"

"I-I can't!" you shout before watching as her eyes widen, the sounds of the other guests dying down from your outburst. A knock sounds at the door, your heart drops... you both allow a moment to pass before another knock sounds, more rushed and heavy against the wood, "my love? are you alright in there?"

Charles. You and Marissa both share a look, you swallow deeply- clearing your throat, "I'm alright Charles, just an wardrobe malfunction." You hear as your... husband chuckles, "alright, I have a plate of food waiting for you by the pool."

"Thank you, darling!" you shout back before hearing as his footsteps become distant. You let out a breath you didn't know to be holding as Marissa pulls you up, wiping your face with her towel, determination in her eyes. "We. are. leaving." You nod, not trusting your words as you follow her outside, wincing at the light coming into your eyes and heart.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk swiftly pass the crowd and upstairs, throwing the closet open to find a duffle bag as you begin to pack a weeks worth of clothes. You stop yourself from grabbing one of Charles shirts to sleep in, your fingers twitching as your heartaches, you bite your lip to conceal a cry as your eyes well before turning towards the ensuite bathroom.

You startle bumping into a chest as arms steady you, hand brushing against your cheek as Charles stares down at you- worry clouding over his eyes as he takes in the sight of your tears. "Whats wrong?" he asks quietly, brushing your hair as you shake in his hold... knowing what those hands have done. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in the memory of his touch before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom.

Charles stands there still where you left him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror of the closet before turning around determined to find out whatever or whomever made his darling wife cry. He leans against the doorframe watching as you grab a hairbrush and a few hair ties before brushing past him and throwing them into your luggage- hands shaking as you zip it closed and place it over your shoulder.

But just before you can reach the door, Charles picks you up in his arms, you scream, and places you on the bed- standing at the foot with his arms crossed. "Running away from our issues only prolongs them. What. is. wrong?" he asks, muscles flexing as he forces himself not to physically comfort you seeing as you flinch from every slight sound you hear. Who scared you? What do I need to do in order to protect you? The Jackal thinks to himself, foot tapping in wait.

You sound out the party happening down stairs, focusing solemnly on your breathing, "I-I have to help Marissa with somethings. Her family, things went badly and she needs me?" you try and lie yet your words appear more like a question.

Your husband sighs, head tilting to the side as he analyzes your form, eye twitching... no, she couldn't know that. I've hid it well and no one else would know in the slightest... You watch every small expression tick over his features, shifting in your spot watching as he does the same, mirroring your movements- you feel trapped knowing that Charles was not going to let you leave... not without the truth nevertheless.

You look outside, hoping to catch Marissa's eyes to come and save you yet can see no sights of her. Your bag drops to your feet as you grip your hair, Am I ready to die? You ask yourself, thoughts automatically going to the darkest parts of your mind before you suddenly remember your conversation last night in the kitchen...

─────── · ·

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

─────── · ·

Shit, you think to yourself... his prior actions all making sense now. You timidly look into his eyes, purposefully trying to make yourself appear small... make him feel the heart you have loved ever-so dearly up until this point, and to some degree, you still do for the years of affections you both have shared.

"Tell me what you know," The Jackal asks calmly, your blood runs cold as he stares down at you, nose twitching, eyes daring you to try and lie again to him.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say before letting lose knowing that you were not making it out of this room no matter what so you might as well do it with morals and truth. "I know you kill people," you begin to say.

The room is dead silent as you both stare into one another's eyes, "Tell me that you don't," you whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks that you do your best to try and blink away resulting in only more coming. Yet in your husbands move not to answer you provides you with the most deafening answer yet... he does.

You shake your head, nails digging into your palms, threatening to break skin. You flinch again to his touch, feeling as the Jackal gently pulls your fingers away from hurting yourself- your heart hammers in your chest like a drum, you know he can hear it to by the way his head falls. "Tell me that you don't," you whisper-shot, shaking your head, confused as to how the soft and intelligent man you fell in love with, that you married and planed to have children with... kills people.

"I kill people for money," the Jackal whispers quietly, a part of hoping that you do not hear his words, that you would return to your smiling and loving self, taking him back with open arms- unknowing once more yet you understand what he says, "Listen to yourself and say it again," you demand of him.

The Jackal removes his touch, taking in a shaky deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shake down by his sides into fists, you slowly crawl back on the bed, "I kill people for money," he says a bit louder. You scoff into a cry, "say it again."

"I kill people for money," the Jackal states picking up his head to look you in the eyes, his heart breaks seeing your tears, watching as you flinching when he moves to brush them away. You'e afraid of me, Charles thinks to himself. I've failed to protect you, the Jackal thinks to himself. You are shaking in your spot, "say it again, say it-"

"I KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough? Is it enough?" The Jackal snaps at you before falling to his knees, head in your lap as an offering. You feel the way he grips your sides, sobbing into your skirt, pleading for you to love him. Yet you just stare forwards, looking out to the sun and all the people downstairs, your eyes catch Marissa's as you stand, his body rolling off of yours as he stays collapsed against the floor watching as you slowly pick up your bag and close the door on him.

─────── · ·

─ · · You felt disgusted for not being able to go to the police about your husband... or well ex-husband. You sent the divorce papers in at Marissas request after your first month out on the run from your heart but no matter where you seemed to go, what disguises or excuses you used when he would just find your new phone number again, you still loved him.

─ · · A part of you knew deep within that not every moment you shared together could be a lie. He trusted you to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to be his confidant to his "work rants," and spent his pay check on you... but he kills people... you think to yourself, 'only the bad people, promise,' you remember him telling you via letter to your mailbox during your first week in Australia where Marissa left you before returning back to Spain. You shake your head, confused with yourself; head and heart competing...

But when you saw golden locks out of the corner of your eye, green-eyes hidden behind tinted shades and tall muscular body draped in a fine linen suit... it would be an understatement to say you folded in the first seconds and fell back in love in the first moment when he picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and refused to let go, intertwining your fingers together on the table as he payed for lunch and all your drinks without a second thought.

And when it started to rain in Amsterdam where you were currently "hiding out," he draped his jacket over your shoulders and picked you up so that your feet wouldn't get wet in all the puddles and potholes. Carrying you all the back to the apartment you were renting, waiting at the door for you to invite him inside and you did.

─ · · You watched as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, veins flexing across his skin as he clenched and unclenched his hands when you moved past him to sit distantly on the couch. He thought about the comforting pressure of you on his lap, the feeling of your head on your shoulder and your lips against his own. He wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his skin, to get a taste of you once more... but he allowed you space, for now... until things are safe... until the job is done, Charles thought to himself, taking a sip out of the tea you prepared for you both.

─ · · After some catching up on both of your sides, your concern grew not only for yourself and your safety, but for your husbands as he was being pinned down on two fronts. One by the police, the other by his target and his men... a part of you knew that your safety did relay on the Jackal getting his work done and knew that from you not going to the police right away, not protecting the 'public', you were in some part just as guilty as he- a participant... "let me help you.... please." And the Jackal nodded.

─────── · ·

─ · · Returning to Spain, the Jackal gave you a series of instructions and lists of where secret rooms, weapons, and security lockdown procedures he had installed for a moment that you had no clue existed before and never would have.

─ · · You shiver at how precisely Charles can check the various weapons on himself, flipping knives in his boots, checking his magazines and checking the sights down the barrel of his gun before giving you a kiss and telling you to go sit in the bedroom upstairs with the dog, waiting to flip a switch in the wardrobe at his request to cut all the power to the house through your earpiece.

You nodded, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering before pulling away slightly and kissing all the way across his cheek to his ear, whispering, "live for me." You didn't receive a response, only a pat at your hit, silently demanding you to move as you pick up your furry companion and closed the bedroom door, putting on a record just like intersected... sitting still and looking pretty and innocent, just waiting on your husband to return.

─────── · ·

─ · · You didn't bother to look at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked over and the dog laid asleep at the foot of the bed. Your fingers running across the soft fur of their back only to startle as you hear your front door be blasted through and two pairs of boots stomp their way into your home. Your breath hitches as you quickly stand and look at the window seeing no addition people in the tree line.

You double check to ensure your door is closed before pressing down on your ear, listening closely for your queue... "Do you hear me darling?" Charle's soft tone floods your ear, you can hear him taking shallow long breaths in and out, most likely hiding somewhere in the walls. "yes," you whisper, starting to make your way into the closet- waiting... "flick the switch, gorgeous." Lights out!

─ · · You are suddenly surrounded in darkness as you tip toe your way back to the bed and place yourself on top of the covers, scrolling through your phone once hearing their boots near the door. The dog shuffles by your feet but does not move as the door creaks open and two flashlights are shined in your eyes, causing you both to stand alert. "HANDS UP!" a woman shouts, you wave your hands in the air. "P-please don't hurt me! Take whatever you want from the house!" you beg, tears starting to drown across your cheeks as you work to distract the women. "Please!" you beg over and over again dramatically, falling to your knees as your hands press against her boots.

"I'm here to protect you ma'am, just do as I say and we will have no issues," the woman in uniform tells you- you nod your head. "Stand," she demands and you oblige, rising to your feet and grabbing your pet in your arms. "Do you have any idea what your husband does?" she questions you, moving you both towards Charle's study and telling you to sit at his desk. You nod your head, hearing as her breath hitches, "he works in global sales for an insurance company," you explain.

"I can show you the new logos?" you ask confusing the woman. "No, I don't care about that... you are married to Charles Calthrop, correct?" You nod your head again, "Yes, that is my husband." The floor suddenly creaks down the hall, the woman turns around sharply, flashlight pointing down the hall as you hide underneath the desk in preparation yet hear no rounds fired.

Looking up slowly, the room and the hall now appear empty as you listen to boots run down the hall and turn down the stairs into the living room. "Stay where you are," Charles demand comes through your ear, "okay," you whisper, holding onto the dog closely as you brace, listening to the distant conversation and then... BANG... a pause... BANG BANG. Another two shots sound and then... silence once more.

"Good girl, you did your work perfectly, my love," Charles praises you before telling you to come downstairs with the luggage for you both. You feel as your husband quickly pulls you in for a hug, caressing your head in an effort for you not to see the body behind him. You feel as he kisses the top of your head, "All ready to go?" he asks you.

"I'm ready," you respond with determination.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no part 2's to this one!

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts

[shinysobi]

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst, light smut

word count: 11k~ish (NOW YOU SEE WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG)

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply,

a/n: this is the final chapter, a doozy because i dragged my feet instead of completing it. but i wanted to finish this for the new years, and so, here we are, a belated merry christmas present from me to you, and hopefully i can write more in 2025 a/n 2: comments and reblogs are always much appreciated, and i'd like to know your thoughts about this story heheheh

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter 4

Its funny, how easy it is, to slip into habits. Old habits, ones that have seeped into your routine over time. I wake up, check my phone for emails. I make coffee, check my phone for emails. I get dressed for work, check my phone for emails. On weekends, I do chores leftover from the week, read books I have to write reviews of.

I would most certainly not be taking a nap in the middle of a Saturday with Lee Jihoon. I would not be lying down in my bed, lying next to, nay, cuddled up with, Lee Jihoon. If anyone had told me, even a few hours ago, that I would be snuggled up with Lee Jihoon, my best friend since university. Wait. Can we even call ourselves friends?

“Jihoon.” I whisper, elbowing him in the ribs. “Jihoon.”

“Mm, five more minutes,” he mutters, “I’ll get up then.”

“Hey, wasn’t your meeting with the producers this afternoon?” I ask, “you’ll be getting in a world of trouble because you didn’t show up.”

“I won’t be getting in any trouble.” Jihoon replies, voice thick with sleep, “I’m the terrible child of the company. They’ll keep me around as long as I make good songs for them, they’ll change meeting times when I ask them to. They’ll do anything as long as I’m happy.”

“You’re taking advantage of your position,” I smile, shifting closer to him, “anyone would think you have a horrible work ethic.”

“It’s all okay when it’s regarding my—wait, what are we?” Jihoon sits up in the bed, still half-dressed, “are we still friends?”

“Depends. Do you kiss your friends?” I sit up, facing him, “then we’re friends. Otherwise, we’re not.”

Jihoon pulls a face, “I just imagined kissing one of the boys. Ew, no, never.”

“Then I suppose we aren’t friends anymore.” I smile, leaning in, “we’re something else, then.”

“Can I call you my girlfriend yet, or no?”

I laugh. From this angle, his face is soft, so soft it feels as though he’ll evaporate if I try to touch him, “depends. Do you kiss your girlfriends?”

Jihoon grins, pressing his lips to mine, “all the time.”

“M-hmm,” I smile, touching his cheeks, soft and pliable underneath my fingers, “Woozi, aren’t you being a little presumptuous? All the time? What do you mean all the time?”

He pulls a face, “I swear to god, if you start some bullshit again, I’m going to break up with you.”

“And we’ve been together for what, three hours? That has got to be a new record, even for you, Jihoon.” I say, laughing as Jihoon tackles me to the pillows, “not to mention you’ve been pining over me for the past what—six, years, since you went for your military service. Imagine liking someone for that long, and not telling anyone about it.”

“At least I had the decency to keep it to myself like a normal adult,” Jihoon replies, “you on the other hand, you were a wreck after a week. Imagine being that down bad over a man. You should be repulsed by yourself. What would Andrea Dworkin say?”

“And that’s it, we’ve had a good run, bye,” I begin, trying to get out of bed, but Jihoon stops me, “let me go. You said yourself that I should be repulsed because I like you.”

“Three hours and five minutes,” Jihoon replies, “not bad at all, given that two of them were spent sleeping.”

“Really, who the fuck sleeps after getting together with someone? It’s like, violating the first ethics of relationships,” I grumble, “imagine kissing your best friend, who’s now your boyfriend, who then proceeds to take a nap in your bed? Who would do that?”

“Were you disappointed?” Jihoon asks, his expression changing to sly, “were you expecting something else?”

I roll my eyes, struggling to get out of his grip, but unfortunately, all the hours Jihoon has put in the gym has now created a reality where I can no longer get out of his grip, “no, I wasn’t, I was just expecting you to not snore on me after kissing me in my living room.”

His face falls, and he is about to say something, when my phone rings loudly, making me jump, “what the hell? Why is your ringtone so loud?”

“It’s not!” I reply, “I just forgot to switch it back to silent after coming back home today. I had it set on full volume last night. And give that to me.” I swipe to accept the call,  and soon enough, Jeonghan’s voice floats through the speakers.

“How are you two doing?” Jeonghan asks, and I stare at Jihoon, who seems to be equally confused as me.

“Jihoon said he was going to meet you, I figured that you two might have finally gotten your shits together,” he clarifies, “I’m not that old, nor do I have enough sense to stay out of your affairs.”

“Yes, yes, hyung, you’re the nosiest of us all,” Jihoon grumbles from next to me, “yes, we’re doing fine, thank you very much.”

“Great!” I can hear the barely-concealed glee in his voice, “Chan, tell the rest of the guys to pay up. I’m the only one who guessed correctly that they were going to get together by today.”

“Pay up—wait, hyung, you were betting on my love life?” Jihoon screeches, “why the hell would you do that?”

“I’ve seen and heard you pine over her for the past eight years, you nitwit, of course, I’m going to host a betting pool for when you finally get together. Not to mention, you’ve just made me an entirely obscene amount of money, which I’m going to spend happily.”

“Wait, if you knew Jihoon was going to come to see me, why did you take so long to call us?”

“I was being polite.”

“For what?”

“Well, if you two were having sex, I would not like to be calling in the middle of it now, would I?” he giggles even as Jihoon and I both let out twin gasps of surprise, “What? Did you not put years of sexual tension into use?”

“That’s inappropriate, hyung.”

“So, you haven’t.”

“Oppa!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Jeonghan lets out one final demonic cackle (still cannot believe I called him my angel once), “I’ll let you two lovebirds be together. Oh, and Soonyoung told me to tell you, Jihoon, that he’ll take care of the meeting today. You can take a day off once in a while.”

“Thanks, hyung, I’ll go back to sleeping,” Jihoon mutters, handing the phone over to me and immediately burrowing himself in the sheets to get some more sleep.

“I’ll make myself scarce then, shall I?”

“Wait, oppa,” I say, thinking very hard, “you did this on purpose didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I mean the whole situation. You were the one who kept telling me about how long Jihoon has liked me for, and you were the one who I called before Jihoon took the phone away from you and talked to me.” My voice takes on an accusatory note, “Yoon Jeonghan, did you manipulate me and Jihoon into confessing so that you could win a bet?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation.”

“So, you did.” I stand up from the bed, ignoring Jihoon, who’s already snoring softly, “Yoon Jeonghan, you better give us a share of the pool.”

Jeonghan laughs on the other end of the phone, “fine, fine, I will. I’ll take you and Jihoon out for samgyeopsal this week. Cool?”

“Just so you know, while we both will be there, I still don’t appreciate this.”

“Come on, writer,” Jeonghan wheedles, “anyone could see that you were both circling each other for half a decade. It was exhausting to watch, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too!” he hangs up, and I go back to bed, sidling up to Jihoon, who hugs me in his sleep. Its nice, being this way. I can pretend that the world is just the two of us, in my bed, sleeping in the afternoon.

Jihoon doesn’t look lonely anymore. In fact, he looks happy, smiling even in his sleep. When was the last time I saw him like that? A memory floats up to my mind, of another afternoon, spent in Jihoon’s  flat, after we’d all finished giving the final exams. Jihoon had a job lined up with a production company, and I was about to start working with an online fashion magazine. Joshua was in graduate school, and everything was fine. We spent that one afternoon watching trashy soap operas on Netflix, drank too much booze and smoked too many cigarettes, and finally, just before we went to sleep, I could swear I saw a ghost of a smile on Jihoon’s face.

Until a week later, when his enlistment notice came, and I never saw that smile again. But now it is there, and I can reach out and touch him, and I can see his face relax even more under my touch, as if Jihoon had been craving it, even in his denial. I probably have, even after so long. Years of wondering ‘what if’ and now, finally, it’s here.

“Jihoon,” I whisper, “Jihoon.”

“What?” he burrows further into the blankets, “I’m cold now.”

“Jeonghan kind of manipulated us both into getting together.”

“He did?” Jihoon mumbles, “good for him, I now have a girlfriend.”

—

Jihoon wakes up in the middle of the evening, and shakes me awake too, because he’s hungry and I have to cook for him.

“I’m the one who told you about this apartment, so you kind of owe me,” he says, perched on a stool, “and no ramen, please. I’ve been living on that for so long I know all flavours that are there, and the convenience store guy looks at me strangely whenever I go inside.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I mutter, chopping up vegetables to put in a stew, “I don’t have anything in the house, so you’re going to have to be happy with a random stew of things I found lying in the fridge.”

“That’s fine.” He replies, “at least I don’t have to starve.”

“Yes, Mr Woozi, I appreciate the concern, now wash the rice.”

Lunch (dinner? Linner?) is kimchi stew, with old vegetables and things that were almost going bad, but he eats it like it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant meal. Jihoon is not really picky: I’ve seen him eat everything from day-old scraps to a croissant that was growing mould on it (the less said about that the better) but us eating in my kitchen, this feels strangely domestic to me, in a way that’s almost scary.

“Are you scared?” Jihoon asks, spooning up rice into his mouth, “don’t worry, I’m scared too.”

I stare at him, “have you become psychic, by any chance? Do you want to change your profession to shaman?”

“I’d be a shitty shaman either way,” he replies, “the only person I know how to read well is you. You have that look on your face, so I asked.”

“What look?”

“The look that you get when you’re terrified of something, but you also want to do it.”

“I don’t have a look.”

Jihoon stares at me, “You totally do, I know it; it’s the same look you got when you attempted to take that class on Psychoanalysis in second year.”

“I sucked at it.”

“That’s not the point. The point is, you were terrified, but you also wanted to do it, I know that look. You might think you’re fooling people, and you can, but the last person you can fool is me; Joshua, to an extent, but I doubt he’s made a hobby of reading your every expression over a period of eight years.”

I make a face. Jihoon notices, because of course he does, “that’s the face you make when you don’t like what the other person is saying, but you know that they’re right.”

“That’s unfair, Jihoon.”

“Is it? I’ve known you for so long, of course I should know about your expressions.” He smiles, before leaning over to kiss me on the cheek, “that’s the expression you make when your surprised.”

“Then don’t fucking surprise me!” I press a hand to my cheek, “what was the reason for that?”

“Nothing, just making sure I didn’t dream up the last few hours, and that I can really kiss you whenever I feel like it.”

“I have to want it too, you know. Also, when did you get so keen on physical affection? I’ve literally never seen you be this way with anyone before.’

He shrugs, “I wasn’t pining over those people for years, so that’s there, too.”

I don’t know what to say to this, so I just laugh at his words, “Jihoon, aren’t you being a bit hard on them?”

“On who?”

“The women you’ve dated. The people I’ve dated. Like it or not, they are a part of us. They’ve made us into the kind of people we are today.” I take a sip of the soup, “would you have asked me out if we were in university? Or after you came back from the military?”

He pauses to think about it, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of kimchi, “probably not.”

“And even if you did, we would have hated each other, and broken up in a week. So, let’s not talk about the people who have given a part of their lives to us.”

Jihoon nods, “understood. Does this mean you’re going to invite your exes to your wedding?”

I laugh, “not to that extent, no, but I will respect them for their time and affection that they gave to me because for better or for worse, they were a part of who I was, before I fell in love with you.”

“Fell in love?” Jihoon gasps, “are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“As if this was even part of the question. Of course I’m in love with you.” I take a deep breath, standing up to clear out the remnants of dinner, “I don’t know how to say this properly but, I’ve loved you all throughout the time I’ve known you. As a friend, as a lover, as my family here in Seoul. I’ve loved you all the time. At the risk of sounding cringe, there has not been a time when I haven’t been full of love for you. Even if it didn’t seem that way, I’ve loved you for years.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, instead wraps me into a hug, “have you been taking lessons on how to deliver a speech?”

“Why, yes, I have.”

He giggles, which is a rare sound coming from him, “I’ve always loved you too. Even if I didn’t show it, even if I didn’t express it well, I have loved you.”

I kiss him, “sorry for taking all this time to realise my feelings.”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t be sorry for that. The way you are, the way you will be, I’ll always love you.”

—

I text Eunseo in the evening, asking her to meet me for coffee. Joshua and Jihoon are both too busy for brunch, so I have some time to burn. Eunseo texts me back within minutes, eagerly agreeing to meet me. I text her the name of the same café the three of us go to for brunch.

“You look great,” Eunseo says as soon as I walk in, “did something great happen?”

I stare at her. She’s dressed to go out this morning, wearing a light green dress under a heavy brown coat. In comparison, I’m wearing my office pants and a white shirt. We’re dressed miles apart. Saying that I look good is almost an insult.

But Eunseo doesn’t insult anyone, even knowingly, so I take my seat and say, “you’re joking.”

“No, not at all,” she replies, “you’ve got this glow that I cannot really put my finger on. It seems as though something great happened in the past few days.”

“Well, I did begin seeing Jihoon, so,” I shrug, but Eunseo is already clapping her hands in joy, “what? What’s going on?”

“Wait, I have to tell Joshua to come meet us,” she chirps, “I’m not saying anything until he comes back, but I’m so happy for you, you have no idea.”

Joshua, who was looking at suits in the morning, comes to the café within minutes, by which we already have ordered a bunch of things. He comes in looking harried, and the first thing he says, “I thought this was an emergency! You texted me she was dying!”

Eunseo laughs, “that was the only way to get your attention, josh, I’m so sorry.” Her expression shows that she isn’t sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Joshua sits down on the chairs, “you’re not sorry at all, Eunseo.”

They share a sweet moment, and normally, I’d pull a face and call them cringe, but today, I just don’t feel like it. maybe it’s the hormones of being in a relationship, or maybe I’m finally growing soft around the edges, but I think, what would happen if I text Jihoon to come see us right now? He’d probably scowl and refuse, but I can’t help but imagine the two of us in place of Joshua and Eunseo, sharing a nice moment. This is it; I think to myself, this is the moment you realise you’ve gone entirely crazy because of a man.

“Anyway,” I say loudly, interrupting the two of them, “Eunseo called you here because I have an announcement.”

Joshua stares at the two of us, “is she dying?”

“No! What the fuck, Joshua, I’m not dying!” I say, irritated by this line of conversation, “as I was telling Eunseo, I’m not dying, I just began seeing Jihoon.”

“But you can see him all the time,” Joshua says, still clueless as ever.

“Romantically. Joshua, romantically. We’re dating.” I say, rolling my eyes.

Joshua stares at me, speechless for a whole ten seconds, before he starts laughing, “finally. Cannot believe I had to endure all those years of Jihoon pining over you and you dancing around him because you wanted to avoid your own feelings.” He turns to Eunseo, who looks equal parts disgusted and horrified, “they are probably two of the most obvious people in existence.”

I narrow my eyes, “you both knew about this? And no one told me?”

To her credit, Eunseo looks apologetic, “I just didn’t want to burden you with the knowledge that we all were aware of the dynamics between you and Jihoon; you seemed like you were still figuring it out, and Jihoon didn’t seem like he wanted anyone else to know. But he’s right, you know. You two were seriously the most obvious people in the world.”

I want the earth to split up and swallow me whole, right at this moment. What do you mean we were the most obvious people in the whole world? “What do you mean we were the most obvious people in the whole world?” I wasn’t even aware that Jihoon had feelings for me until a few months ago! “I wasn’t even aware of my own feelings until very recently.”

Before Eunseo can reply to my statement, her phone rings, and she makes a face before picking it up, saying, “it’s the realtor. He is supposed to meet us later in the week.”

Joshua pulls an identical face, and not for the first time since they started dating, I wonder why it is that all couples start to look alike after a few years of being together. However, for the first time, I also wonder how Jihoon and I would look like after a few years together. Would we be annoying, like Joshua and Eunseo? Or would we be one of those couples who always fought and broke up and patched up, all within the span of a week, like those people in university? But that would mean I’d have to spend enough time with Jihoon, becoming one of those couples.

“You’re putting on your thinking face,” Joshua says, bringing me out of my reverie, “it’s the expression you make whenever you’re imagining something.”

“I don’t do that,” I defend reflexively, but I know he’s true, simply because this is not the first time someone has told me about my ‘thinking face’. It is, however, the first time that someone has called me out when I was thinking about Jihoon. “What were you saying?”

“Eunseo just left to take the call from the realtor,” Joshua smiles, “I must say, I saw this coming from a mile away.”

I scowl, “what do you mean you saw this coming from a mile away? I’m not someone who’s that predictable, am I?”

“Well, it is true. You are kind of predictable,” Joshua shrugs, “you’ve been wearing the same clothes since university, you eat the same ten dishes all the time, and you even like the same kind of side dishes. You’re very predictable.”

I sigh, “yes, fine, I’m predictable. Still doesn’t mean you saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Have you seen the way you and Jihoon behave around each other? No matter how much you say that you can’t stand the sight of the other person, Jihoon cares about you the most. He drops everything at a moment’s notice to come to your aid. You do the same thing too, it’s just that you aren’t as forthcoming about it as him.”

“Was that why you were behaving weirdly on that night?”

“What night?” Joshua seems to have entirely forgotten that one Sunday, except it is ingrained into my mind like its just yesterday, “I don’t remember anything.”

“The night that you proposed to Eunseo,” I say, trying my best to not sound frustrated, “when Jihoon told you he was helping me hook up with people, you reacted really strangely.”

“Oh, yes, I did,” Joshua looks sheepish, “I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, but it was very confusing for me.”

“Confusing?”

“Imagine one of your closest friends, who has been pining over another one of your closest friends, telling you that he is helping the girl he has had a crush on for the past six years, in getting her a boyfriend. How would you feel about that?”

“Um, well,” I pause on it, “I’d think my friend was stupid.”

“That’s it!” Joshua yells, “see how it was confusing for me? all throughout university I thought Jihoon had a crush on you, but all of a sudden, after years as your friend,  he’s trying to set you up with other men? I thought he was being an idiot.”

“Well, I told him he shouldn’t be doing that,” I grumble, “he didn’t even listen to me and went and blabbed to you about how he was going to set me up with one of the boys.”

“You were the one who made that comment about Mingyu,” Joshua accuses, “I’d better not see you make any excuses for yourself. And what does ‘platonically motorboat’  even mean?”

“It means you would like to motorboat someone, but platonically, not romantically,” Eunseo says, walking into the café, “babe, the realtor wants to see us today, if we can.”

“Really? He wants to meet us today? After changing the date so many times?” Joshua groans, “never mind. We should be glad he’s meeting us poor people, who just want to buy a newlywed home.”

“You should be glad he’s meeting you at all,” I say, gesturing for the check, “if I ever saw a credit score as bad as yours’, I’d refuse to give you any credit, let alone show you houses.”

Both of them pull identical scowls, “yes, yes, showing off your excellent credit, go on,” Joshua says, “I just know you bragged all about it to Jihoon already.”

“You’re not wrong,” I reply, grinning, “but Jihoon said I should brag to others too, so I’m bragging to you.”

“Never mind her babe,” Eunseo puts her hands over Joshua’s ears, “she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

The three of us walk out into the early winter morning, shivering in the cold. Joshua and Eunseo promptly set off in a taxi to go meet their realtor, while I make my way to my apartment, suppressing my urge to text Jihoon about his work. I’ve been endlessly curious about his process ever since university, but the only times he’s allowed me into the studio I’ve either fallen asleep within ten minutes of being there, or we had conversations about things that were not related to his music production. On the other hand, if I text him right now, badgering him about his work, I will seem like either a. an insane, clingy girlfriend, or b. a stupid, clingy girlfriend. In both cases, Jihoon is going to get sick of me so fast, he’s going to break a record with how fast he’s going to dump me.

In university, I was part of the journalism club, and on the first group outing, one of the seniors, drunk off of one too many soju cocktails, had taken the first-years aside and talked about how one should behave when in a relationship. “Now listen,” she had said, “never, I repeat, never, let him know that you’re into him, especially in the first few months of dating. The less he knows about your real feelings, the better.”

“But sunbae,” one of my freshman year-mates had raised her hand, “what happens if your boyfriend gets to know how much you like him in the first few months of the relationship?”

The senior had sighed, before saying, “you’ve got to understand why men like women. They don’t like the person we actually are; they like the chase. They like the person we pretend to be when we start dating them for the first time. Therefore, unless you’re absolutely sure that this is a man you want to keep around for a long time, you must not let your real self show around him.”

We had all nodded, as if we understood what she was talking about, and I had spent the last few years   of my life earnestly following this rule. Never allowing my real self to be shown around the people I have dated. But now I’m dating Jihoon, who has been around for all of the embarrassing chapters of my life. How do I navigate this new change in dynamic?

My phone pings, and I look down, expecting a text from Joshua or Eunseo, talking about their wedding, but instead of the two of them, its Jihoon.

hoon: did you tell joshuji?

hoon: he just texted me btw

hoon: he also says that we have both been huge idiots

I pause in the middle of the road in my surprise, and narrowly miss hitting a pedestrian. I always knew Joshua was a snitch, but telling Jihoon not even ten minutes after I’ve left? That’s just low.

big dick (canon): cannot believe Joshua snitched

big dick (canon): actually no, I do believe it

big dick (canon): he and Eunseo ditched me after brunch so I’m now being forced to go back to my home

big dick (canon): my home that I love and adore

big dick (canon): but still, I don’t really want to hang out in my apartment all by myself

big dick (canon): it’s so boring

big dick (canon): I’m going to kms

hoon: you know, one of the many, many perks of having me as your boyfriend is

hoon: that you can come hang out in the studio with me all the time

hoon: and I won’t even get angry with you, unlike how I get with others

hoon: because I love you, and this is a perk I provide to my loved ones ONLY

big dick (canon): you have canonically told all twelve of your friends to fuck off from the studio, at least once in your lifetime

big dick (canon): and I’m not even including all the times you have told me no for an interview

big dick (canon): if I count all those times, its going to go to a hundred, EASILY

big dick (canon): and you’re telling me to come hang out with you

big dick (canon): this is HIGHLY sus

hoon: just come to the studio my god you’re so dramatic

hoon: don’t take this as a sign to stop being dramatic, I actually like it when you do that

hoon: if you tell this to anyone else, I’m going to deny it and kill you

big dick (canon): you won’t do that you like me too much

big dick (canon): anyway, should I bring something for you to eat

hoon: have I ever told you that I love u

big dick (canon): yes, u have

big dick (canon): multiple times, in fact

hoon: ugh so dramatic

big dick (canon): I won’t get you anything, then

hoon: get me some fried chicken

big dick (canon): I’m having it delivered to your studio. I’m coming in ten

By the time I enter Jihoon’s studio, the chicken has been delivered, and I open the door to see Jihoon munching on a drumstick. Unlike other days, the studio is messy, and he looks like he’s been through hell. Which, if you take Jihoon’s word for it, is not much, just three meetings.

“Shouldn’t you leave one drumstick for me?” I ask, shrugging my winter coat off, “fuck, its cold as hell outside.”

“Needed brain food,” Jihoon replies through a mouthful of chicken, “had a meeting in the morning, the sound engineers needed some changes to be done to Hoshi’s title track.”

“Sounds like shit,” I mutter, picking up a piece, “you’ve been working on that since the morning?”

“Not just that, but the girl group song too,” he replies, “they liked the first song so much that they want another song from me. I’ve been looking through the scratch files on my computer to find out what songs I can give to them that aren’t emo ballads I made after one too many drinks.”

“You know, some of us just vomit after getting wasted. Are you trying to brag to me that you become more creative when drunk?”

“I’m not bragging, some of these are actually atrocious,” he says, pointing to the icons on the screen, “this one is just called ‘I’m never going to be alive’. What does that mean? Why was I thinking about this at three in the morning?”

“Entertaining suicidal thoughts at three in the morning is something we’ve all done, actually.”

“This is just called ‘Love hurts’, and this one, I named it ‘Park PD is a bitch’.”

“I’ll go tell him you said that.” I laugh when Jihoon’s face darkens, “okay, okay, fine, I won’t, but why do you hate him so much?”

“I don’t hate him at all. he was probably getting on my nerves at that moment, and instead of talking it out like real adults, I chose to instead make a song draft calling him a bitch.”

I look closely at the computer screen, “Wait, Jihoon. All of these songs are love songs. To an extent. How many love songs have you written over the years?”

He takes a minute to answer that, “since university, I’ve either created existential songs or love songs, so, I’d say, about a hundred? Give or take, but I won’t put a number on it, since I’m not really sure.”

“You wrote about a hundred love songs?”

“Yes, I did, and they’re all in here,” Jihoon pats the external hard drive hooked up to the computer, “this holds pretty much all of my work.”

“Makes sense as to why you would guard it with your life.” I reply.

I go to sit back down, putting my feet up on the sofa, and Jihoon gives me a dirty look. I just smile in reply. He’s always a stickler for these kind of rules, but it’s funny to see him be so rattled. I’m not going to lie and say that seeing him be irritated is funny, because it is. An angry Jihoon is a cute Jihoon, I’ve learnt that back in university. Especially when he pouts like that.

“You still wear minion socks?” Jihoon says, stuffing his mouth with chicken, “I gave you that as a gag gift last year, you should have thrown them out as soon as you got them.”

“I like the socks. They’re comfortable.” I reply, shrugging, “who gave you the idea to give me socks as a gag gift?”

“Soonyoung. He thought it would be funny to give you cartoon socks.”

“Joke’s on him, I like having my feet warm.”

After Jihoon and I finish the chicken and clean up in record time, he goes back to his workstation, and I’m free to observe him as much as I want to. Seeing Jihoon in his element is always an experience. Even in university, I used to observe him when he worked. He has a singular focus on whatever he does, from eating to producing music. I’m also not going to lie to myself and say that he isn’t attractive when he works, because somehow his attractiveness gets turned up a hundred notches when he’s working. Or maybe, I like him too much and I find everything about him attractive. His eyes are laser-focused on his work, and the lines of his neck, disappearing into his shirt, is at odds with the Jihoon in my bed yesterday, peacefully sleeping as he held me for warmth. Before last night, I never knew that Lee Jihoon was someone who got cold even underneath a comforter, and liked holding someone else for warmth.

“You’re staring,” Jihoon says, breaking my line of thought, “I’ve been talking to you for the past ten seconds and you’ve been staring into space.”

“I was just looking at my handsome boyfriend as he works. Is that not allowed?”

“Stop saying that.” He mutters, going back to his work, but I can see him turning red. Jackpot.

“Jihoon.”

“Hm?”

“Are you blushing right now?”

He turns around to give me an impressive glare, “no, I’m not.”

“The back of your neck is red.” I grin, “were you getting shy?”

“No, I wasn’t.” he lies, his ears going red. At this rate, he might burst into fumes.

“Your ears say otherwise, Jihoon,” I stand up, walking over to his chair, “your ears and your neck is red. You’re getting shy, aren’t you?”

“What! No, I’m not—” he pauses for a moment, turning away from me, before grabbing me by the waist, “stop teasing.”

“I won’t,” I giggle, taking the opportunity to climb into his lap, “see! You’re going all red.”

His face is still turned away from me, but I can see the blush on his cheeks, “are you going to continue to lie to me, Jihoon?”

He pauses, before huffing, “you’re gonna regret teasing me, you know.”

“Pretty sure I won’t—aah!”

Unfortunately, my plan had but one singular flaw in it. I had underestimated how much he worked out on a weekly basis. Jihoon just glares at me, before picking me up and walks over to the sofa, my legs dangling around his waist. Seriously, how much does this guy work out?

“Really? I was working, and in the zone, and you had to tease me like that?” he grumbles, before unceremoniously dumping me on the sofa, “I shouldn’t have invited you over. Let me go back to work.”

“But you did,” I grin, my hands around his neck, “you invited me over. Lured me in, I’ should say. You lured me in, and now you should pay the price.”

Jihoon groans, before smiling, “is this how it’s going to be all the time?”

“Mm, I’m afraid so.”

Lying down on the sofa, I can see the lights on the ceiling, bright white, ones that Jihoon claimed helped him with his workflow. I hated them in the beginning, claimed that they hurt my eyes, but over time, I grew used to them, to the point where I can’t imagine there being anything else. Bright white lights. A comfortable sofa. Jihoon’s face obscuring my vision, so close that I can make out every individual eyelash. His mouth, full and open, insistent against mine. Jihoon kisses like he wants to do nothing else, I’ve realised. As though this was what he wanted to do all along. Anything is okay. I’m not afraid of falling, if it’s Jihoon. which is why  I find myself doing strange things. Like allowing him to touch me, even if it’s in the middle of day, in a room where anyone might come in; like allowing him to undress me, even if I’m underneath harsh white lights. Because its him, because its Jihoon. I can touch him in return, slip my hands underneath the shirt he’s wearing, because I can press my mouth just as insistently against him as him.

“So, this is how it’s going to be, is it?” he says, unbuttoning my shirt, “wait. You’re not wearing a bra?”

I roll my eyes. Of all the things he can talk about, this is what he chooses to focus on? “No, Jihoon, its winter. I’m wearing three layers over this. Of course I don’t want to wear a bra. It’s too much work.”

“I wish it was winter forever,” he replies, continuing to unbutton my shirt, “good god, if this is the outcome, I wish it was winter all throughout the year.”

“The economy is gonna hate you.” I mumble against his mouth, “imagine a whole year of winter. The economy is gonna go haywire. And all because you’re horny.”

“It’s a proof of how much I’m attracted to you, that I’m still working on  your shirt after you just started talking about the economy,” Jihoon finally manages to slip off the shirt I’m wearing, “total buzzkill.”

I scowl, yanking his shirt over his head in one go, “sorry I’m such a buzzkill, then.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Jihoon kisses my cheek, “you’re so beautiful. Have I told you that?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Remind me to tell you this every day, then.” His hands are soft on my hair, stroking, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.”

“Even compared to Jeonghan?”

“Even compared to Jeonghan.” He repeats, “why do you have to bring him up now?”

“Just like that.” I smile, kissing him softly, “so, you like this?’

“Is this how it’s going to be now? For the foreseeable future?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Thank god,” Jihoon murmurs, his hands on the button closure of my trousers, “I can’t wait for the future, then.”

—

Being in this industry means you have to meet with a lot of people. When I say a lot of people, I do mean a lot of people. I’ve managed to keep my connections alive, but it has not been easy getting to this place. Not the least for someone like me, who had no one in the industry to rely on. In the beginning, when I was working at the fashion magazine, everywhere I went I would be marked as an outsider, and it was surprising how easily doors could get closed. I’ve always been resentful of those times, but now, now it feels like a moment in time that never called its name out for me, and I cannot bring myself to care.

These are the thoughts that I usually have in the mornings. But now, things have changed.

For one, Jihoon is sleeping next to me, his hands holding me close. Its strange, looking at him like this, peaceful instead of a permanent frown etched into his brow, a small smile on his face instead of the scowl that seems to have carved out its own position on his face.

Nowadays, I wake up before Jihoon does, and on most days, I spend some time looking at his face. He was always beautiful, but now, now he looks ethereal. It takes all my self-control to not run from this, because how can someone like me be happy? What right do I have to happiness?

“You’re thinking too much again,” Jihoon says, shaking my train of thought loose, “I can practically hear your gears turning.”

“Morning,” I reply, hoping it sounds smooth and easy and not like I’ve been consumed with depressing thoughts.

Jihoon hums, pulling me in closer, “you always think too much. Its time you stopped thinking so fast.”

“Hm? Do you have a way of doing that?”

That gets his attention, and he opens his eyes. Still sleepy, but fully awake. “You want me to do something about your overthinking?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, I have a thought on how you can change that.”

“And what is that?”

He smiles, half-awake, and kisses me, and my mouth eagerly opens up to let his tongue swipe in, mapping the inside of my mouth with as much ease as he does when composing music. its almost embarrassing how eagerly my body responds to his touch, my hands finding their way inside Jihoon’s shirt without missing a beat, bringing him closer to me as if it’s a dance we have practiced over a long time. It’s a good thing that Jihoon is just as eager as me, pressing himself against me roughly, hard from the barest of touches. If he wasn’t wearing his sweatpants, he would realise just how wet I was from his touches alone, how he managed to reduce me to a wet, moaning mess with only a ghost of his touch and nothing more.

“Mm, just so you know, you’re kind of fulfilling a dream of mine.”

“Which is?”

“Having my way with you in the morning.” Jihoon grins, sitting up to pull his shirt off over his head, and my eyes widen as large purple blotches come into view. God, what did I do—those look like the work of a feral animal, not a mostly sane woman in her twenties. He, on the other hand, looks composed, dragging my shirt up and adding it to the pile on the floor. Almost immediately, his mouth is back on mine, his large hands manhandling my breasts. He’s just as affected as I am, moaning into my mouth as his fingers pinch and twist my nipples, the two of us barely managing to not devolve into a moaning, screaming, mess.

“Have I told you,” he yawns, coming up for breath, “your tits are incredible.”

I scoff, “yes, yes you have, Jihoon, multiple times. I get it, you like them.”

“Like them?” Jihoon grins, shoving two fingers into my mouth before putting his on  my nipple and sucking me hard enough to cry, “babe, I love them, they are perfect.”

Fuck. Jihoon’s obsession with my breasts means that he spent half an hour getting me off last night with his mouth and fingers alone, and I’m oversensitive to the point where his current ministrations are toeing the line between pain and pleasure. His fingers are in my mouth, long and deft, and I can remember where they had been the previous night.

“You gave me enough hickeys to last a lifetime, baby,” Jihoon mutters, still sucking roughly on my breasts, “it’s only fair I get to return the favour.”

Before I can even process what he means, he bites down on my nipple, hard enough that my back arches from the mix of pain and pleasure, and he can feel exactly how wet I already am. At this rate, he doesn’t even need to prepare me to fuck me, he can slide into me with ease, without even taking off his pants.

Jihoon is tired, sleepy, and so am I, the initial rush of waking up next to him fading away quickly as the early morning catches up to the both of us. There’s nothing rushed about the way he’s pushing in and out of me right now; it’s a slow embrace, something that I can hold on to for the rest of my day. Jihoon’s back is wide enough that I can’t really wrap my arms around him, and his mouth is slow against mine, insistent but not really pushing. It’s all Jihoon, and my brain is slowly going into overdrive because of how close he is.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Jihoon asks, after we’re both finished, lying in a haze of our own happiness, oblivious to the world around us, “if I haven’t, consider it an oversight I wish to rectify. As much time as it takes.”

“Are you—proposing to me right now?” I ask.

“Well, it’s not really a proposal yet, but I am going to. And it’s going to be with flowers and a grand gesture that you really can’t turn down.”

“Never took you for a romanticist, Lee Jihoon.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of dating me.”

—

Mr Hong is an impressive writer, which is perhaps why I have always been a little jealous of him and his work. It’s also not at all strange as to why he only agrees to interviews with me, given his prickly demeanour, which has not really improved in the years that I have managed to work with him.

But even with all my misgivings, work is work, and I make my way to the office to pick up my files for the interview, and Seungkwan offers me a warm latte, insisting that I should carry it into the interview. The drink is still warm in my hands, and I stare at him. he just shrugs, “what, you should take it to him, it’ll look nice if we bring him something to drink in an interview.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, trying my best not to laugh, “have you read all of Mr Hong’s interviews with me?”

“Yes, I have, why?”

“Then you should also know that he only drinks tea from a specific tea garden in India, right?”

Seungkwan stares back. “He’s that much of a tea snob?”

“He earns ten billion per year in book sales, he can afford to be a tea snob. He imports the tea himself. He doesn’t drink coffee, and he would also hate it if I offered him a drink. It makes him feel like he’s not being a good host to me.”

“She’s like a criminal profiler when it comes to him,” the Editor hands Seungkwan a file, “managed to get all this information from the one single television segment filmed at his house.”

“Kind of forced to, since there was no prior information on him,” I mutter, but Seungkwan’s eyes widen, and he grabs my hands, eyes shining, “what the hell are you doing? You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

“You’re so cool, sunbae,” Seungkwan says, almost giggling from his excitement, “can’t believe you exist.”

“Seems like her boyfriend cannot believe she exists either,” The Assistant Editor sets down a cup of coffee at my desk, “cute guy. Handed me the coffee and said I should give it to the Associate Editor.”

“Jihoon said that?” I ask, picking up the warm cup. It’s an iced café mocha, sugary enough for Seungkwan to cringe when he takes a taste of it. “Jihoon doesn’t really refer to me by my title.”

“He always does with us, though,” Seungkwan says, “in fact, he’s been quite besotted with you since your university days.”

“University? It took them that long?” Haewon tuts, “really, sunbae, you should have just gotten together by now.”

“He should be doing that more, if you ask me,” the Assistant Editor smiles, “how does it feel to be the author of one of the most popular columns in the newspaper? There are a couple thousand hits on it every day, and that’s me being conservative with the estimate.”

“They love that column,” the Editor pipes up, “we sure are a depressed country.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve just been giving a voice to the most depraved of our society,” I mutter, slinging my bag over my shoulder in what feels like a fourth time this morning, “Seungkwan, are you coming along?”

“Yes!”

Writer Hong’s house is in the same neighbourhood as Jeonghan’s, but he has been living in it since the 90’s and to my knowledge, there has not been a violent murder to reduce the price of the house. Not that he would complain about it, given his obsession with true crime and the lurid crime novels he had written in the 80’s under a pseudonym that I had dug out for him to agree for an interview; because while the television segment did help, it was nothing compared to the immovable force of Writer Hong’s refusal to be in the spotlight. Which is why I had to yell out one of the names of his books (written in the 80’s) before he could disconnect the call. It was the first month I had been working at the news desk, and I was different. Hungrier. For recognition, or for someone to tell me that leaving my comparatively cushy, but dead-end job at a fashion magazine to pursue a career in journalism (good journalism), but journalism that does not pay the bills, was a bad idea. It was my first scoop, and I still remember being congratulated around the office like I had conquered a country. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, something a young writer had accomplished against the better judgement of all the adults involved.

But then Writer Hong had gone and taken a shine to me. I like the way you conduct interviews, he had said, very short. Not like those other blithering idiots who only go on and on about how great my work is.

Which brings me and Seungkwan to this morning, standing outside his mansion—it’s a mansion, a house the two of us can only dream of buying one day—in the cold winter air, Seungkwan nervously clutching the file he’s kept holding on to ever since we left the office building.

I ring the doorbell, and Seungkwan whimpers. Whimpers. I give him a sharp look, and he manages to compose himself just in time for Writer Hong to open the door, grumpy and ruffled, but he opens the door and lets us in, and soon enough, we are sitting in the middle of a tastefully done room, waiting for him to serve us with expensive Darjeeling tea. Seungkwan’s foot vibrates at an almost supersonic speed.

“So,” he says without much of a preamble, entering the room holding a teakwood tray, “I should call you Writer now, instead of Associate Editor.”

Its difficult to stop the blush that spreads across my cheeks, and even Seungkwan lightens up at that statement. Writer Hong had always been someone who valued propriety and how to address someone properly above all else, a relic of the old age, even if he had hated it in his youth.

“I’m still Associate Editor to you, sir,” I reply, holding the porcelain teacup carefully, “the writing is just a column.”

“And one of the better columns I’ve read in the last few years,” he grumbles, “my wife made me read it, you know. And I thought it was nice. Better than what that hack Kim Hong-Sik has been getting up to in these past few days.”

“Did not think a column on unachieved dreams would be exciting to you, sir,” I say, with a small smile, and he guffaws.

“You should start writing properly, then,” he says, “if you think your column is not deserving  of praise, going against the word of me, arguably the best writer Korea has seen in the past few decades.”

“That’s going a bit overboard, don’t you think, sir?” I say, and Seungkwan gasps, but Writer Hong just laughs ad laughs, “I mean, Han Kang exists.”

“Best Male author, then.”

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, and he even warms up to Seungkwan considerably, although he calls his way of peeling oranges ‘disgraceful to the flavour of an orange’. Its good, and it makes me feel accomplished, at noon, and before we leave, he even relents to take a picture with me, amidst his impressive collection of Korean art.  

“That went very well,” Seungkwan says, as we flag down a taxi, “didn’t know he could be like that. He’s usually so—reserved. And grumpy. In all the award shows.”

“He’s big on privacy, but fame really got to that.”

“Privacy?”

“There was once a story about his daughter, who passed away before she turned a year old. He and his wife hated that article so much he stopped giving interviews.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I say, closing my eyes, and Seungkwan falls silent. He was probably too young to have read that article—hell, I was too young to have read that article, but its easy, to wield this destructive power if you have it, especially without any regard for how the other party might feel about it; most people in my line of work get drunk on it, ruining lives just for the sake of ruining them.

We pick up lunch at a corner store, and walk into the office building in silence. Seungkwan has been looking up old articles, and he’s upset, clearly, given how his mouth settles into a frown, one that doesn’t go away even after Haewon presents us with doughnuts from the cafeteria, a present, she says, from the Editor-in-Chief.

“They’re waiting for you in the Meeting room,” she tells me, and I frown, because why the hell would they be there?

“Ah, there’s the Associate Editor!” the Editor booms, his head poking out of the meeting room door, “come have a chat with us.”

Its normal, jovial even, but I approach the room cautiously, only to be greeted with wide smiles from the two men.

“There’s a book deal for you.” The Editor-in-Chief,  a man of blessedly few words, says, as soon as I enter, “they like the column, and they want to publish it.”

“Of course, the legal team is going to establish your fees and how much of it should be going to the company—” they drone on, but all the words and thoughts have flow out of my head because holy shit I have a book deal now. Writer Hong’s words from this morning come to mind, and I smile and nod through the entire meeting, assuring them that while the company’s lawyers are sufficient, I should like to talk to my own lawyers about this, and that everything is okay, I would really like to go over the terms and conditions of the contract before signing it, and yes, I was reviewing it positively. While they hate that a column is possibly going out of circulation, they can’t help but think about all the extra money this is going to be bringing in, the extra money and the popularity, being known as the company that fostered a young author’s work. It’s a win-win deal, one that I would be stupid to turn down.

I leave the meeting room and call Jihoon, my hands shaking, and he picks up within three rings, his voice soothing and calm like it always is, “hello?”

“I’m going to be a writer,” I say, no other explanation or long-winded preamble, and Jihoon understands, “can you come pick me up from work?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

I stand up, straighten my pants, and leave the bathroom, marching straight up to the editor’s desk, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

“The rest of the day?” he sputters, “wait, what about the interview?”

Seungkwan pops up his head, “I can write that. It’s just compiling all that was said.”

“I’ll check it, and Seungkwan needs to take point on a project,” I say, “besides, if you want me to focus on the column full-time, then someone needs to interview Writer Hong instead of me, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t be leaving in the middle of the day,” he protests weakly, and the Assistant Editor smacks him with a pamphlet, “what was that for?”

“Clearly, she has someone waiting to pick her up, you buffoon,” she groans, “when will you understand? Just because your love life is barren, doesn’t mean everyone else is the same as you.”

Seungkwan winces, “wait, are you going home with Jihoon-hyung right now?”

I roll my eyes, “would you prefer to have the sordid details?”

“No, thank you.”

A peal of laughter follows me as I walk out of the office, and then the elevator and then Jihoon is standing in the lobby, flushed and wonderful, his nose red in the snow and biting wind. Because I’m a sane woman who is not given to theatrics, I merely walk up to him and tuck my arm into his, moving past the sliding doors onto the street. He’s wearing slippers, I notice, he must have come here straight from the studio.

“Very different from the feral woman who attacked me last night, I see,” Jihoon murmurs, strapping me into the seat of his car and kissing me for a tad bit (okay, thirty seconds) longer than what can be termed as an appropriate hello kiss.

“I was not that feral.”

“I have to wear a turtleneck for a week!” he exclaims, pulling down his shirt to show the extent of the damage, and I look away, embarrassed, “no! you don’t get to look away from me!”

“I like you in turtlenecks.”

That pleases him, and he smiles , “then I’ll wear them throughout the year.”

“Jihoon, you’ll suffocate.”

“I’ll have you.” He grins, “so, celebration?”

“I want to laze away today. Take a nap. Order shitty food.”

“I’m assuming there’s coitus involved. And not to mention, you dragged me out of work today.”

I wrinkle my nose, “do not say that word ever again, or else I’m kicking you out of my bed. And besides, what’s the point in being a famous producer if they don’t let you get home to your fiancée now and then?”

“What, coitus?”

“You’re no longer allowed into my bed,” I mutter darkly, and he just laughs.

The apartment building is mostly quiet this time of the day, but we pass a fair few old people who give us strange looks for coming back so early from work. Given that there have been multiple witnesses to me coming back at one in the morning, tired from overtime, and Jihoon walking into the elevator when the old ladies have finished their morning stroll, dark shadows under his eyes so pronounced he had to sleep for a week to get rid of them.

Jihoon presses the code to his home, and the two of us walk into the hallway, closing the door behind us to avoid the cold draught from chilling us to the bone.

“What should we get/” Jihoon toes off his slippers, scrolling absent-minded through his phone, “there’s a shop that delivers samgyetang, and I thought we could get some delivered, since you’ve been coming down with that cold for the past few days.”

“I’d like that,” I shake off my own shoes, sensible boots compared to Jihoon’s slippers, and kiss him again, for no other reason that I can and I will. He smiles against my mouth, “order me a whole chicken, Jihoon-ssi.”

“Two whole chickens,” he amends, “we can have the soup throughout the week. Shower?”

It is an innocuous enough question, but the way Jihoon’s eyes flash makes something shift inside of me, and I find myself returning his little smirk, peeling off the heavy coat, “you know there’s a water shortage.”

“Hmm. Its very bad. We should be conserving all the water we can.”

Jihoon pulls me close to kiss me again, and I laugh, leading him towards the shower.

—

My hometown is a quiet town. Sleepy, with neighbours that know everything about everyone. I used to hate them when I was younger, hated the way they always compared me to my sister, told me I had to be better in order for me to meet my parents’ expectations, as if nothing I did was good enough when compared to her. Nowadays, it’s a welcome distraction; reminding me of the fact that nothing in my town really changes, or will ever change. Not for the better, nor for the worse.

“Oh, are you here for the wedding?” the old man at the fruit shop says, as Jihoon and I walk out of the car, Jihoon yawning behind a closed fist, having slept half the way while I drove, “wait, you’re Yong-Hwa’s sister-in-law!”

“Yes, we’re here for the wedding,” I reply, as Jihoon shakes the falling cherry blossoms out of his hair, “just wanted to pick some fruits to take back to the house.”

That get’s his attention, and he spends an entire half-hour detailing to us every fruit he had at the store, and how good they would taste in season. In the end, we buy a box of strawberries, ones that he assures me are going to ‘taste like heaven’, and Jihoon is taking the driver’s seat for once, and we are speeding towards the house where I have spent my childhood and adolescence.

“Hasn’t been that long since I visited this place.” Jihoon says, turning a corner so that my home is visible, “this feels different somehow.”

“Yes, well, we weren’t together when you visited my mom. And its only a reminder of how much she wants me to visit, and I keep avoiding her requests.”

“But you’re here for the wedding.” He says, and I turn to look at him. Jihoon looks resolute, his mouth set in a line I haven’t seen for a long time, the light casting deep shadows on his face. My eyes move to the smooth gold band on his ring finger, its identical twin gleaming on my hand. He’s nervous, navigating this journey from being my friend to being my intended, meeting the family all over again, essentially.

There are flowers all over the house, bursting into bloom for my sister’s wedding, and I think to myself, this is how it usually is, huh. It’s a surprise that the usual dread that settles into me at the thought of getting married has been replaced with a pleasant anticipation, looking forward to navigating a lifetime with Jihoon.

“You’re here!” my mother shouts as we get down from the car, “they’re here!” she yells to someone inside the house, and soon enough, my father ambles out, looking every bit the disgruntles, emotionless father I had grown up with, looking at his youngest daughter and her partner. My mother envelops me into a crushing hug, but its my father’s gaze that I cannot return, because to this day I cannot live up to the ideal that he had had constructed for me.

My mother doesn’t notice the rings on our fingers, or even if she does, she doesn’t say anything, and we just haul the suitcases up into the house, where Jihoon has the guest bedroom, and I have my old childhood one. Settled in, I leave Jihoon to his devices, answering calls from the company about the new album, and walk down to the kitchen to help my mother with dinner.

“Is everything all right with Jihoon?” she asks, cutting carrots into tiny little pieces, “are you two finally together?”

I say nothing, just pour myself a glass of tea, “didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Oh, the couple rings were too nice to not notice, actually,” she laughs, “its good. You two suit each other very much.”

“Now you’re saying that to take the piss,” I grumble, “you’ve never once approved of the people I’ve dated, whether I dated them or not.”

“That’s because you dated them to stop your mind from crashing and burning,” my mother says, gentle as ever, putting the ingredients for soup into a big pot, “you’ve always been headstrong that way.”

“As opposed to my sister?”

My mother sighs,  a sign of a battle she’s already lost against herself, “I’m sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I wave my hand. It matters so much. “I was the problem child, I guess. Every family needs one.”

“You were not a problem child,” my mother says, “you were just out of our reach, at times. and when we finally thought we understood you, you ran away and concealed yourself from us.”

“That’s what I was taught.”

“And I should have taught you differently.”

“Never mind, mother,” I give her a quick smile, “you’ll be watching your daughter get married, and in a few years, you’ll be a grandmother, and that will give you enough happiness to tide you over for the next ten years.”

“I think about you too, you know.”

“Congratulations on that, mother.” I reply, walking out of the kitchen.

Jihoon is sitting on the bed when I open the door, hands clutched around a  cup, “I wish we hadn’t come back.”

He raises an eyebrow, “this is your home.”

“I know, its just—there’s no one here that knows me, and even if they do, its only by association, as the sister, and my parents are all on eggshells around me, because I blew up in their faces about my childhood, and how much I hated being here, and its never going to stop, is it, I’m going to be this way, this festering, annoying, difficult, person, and I’ll never really be normal ever again—”

Jihoon wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug that’s at once reassuring and scandalous, “you’ll be fine. Your family are, well, they’re sorry, and they’re on eggshells because they don’t know how to approach you anymore. It happens. You can leave to Seoul and have your career, but they’re going to stay on in this town, and be reminded of the fact that maybe they didn’t do enough. Let them hover. It’ll put them at ease.”

“Fine.” I grumble, “I just came back because I love my sister. And Yong-Hwa. He needs to have a chance to run away before he hitches himself to her.”

Jihoon laughs, “would you say the same thing for me?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”

He unwraps his arms from around me, fishing in his pocket, “wait, I forgot the ring at home.”

I gape, “you were going to propose to me?”

“Yes, but now that I forgot the ring, there’s going to be no proposal.” Jihoon grumbles, “stupid.”

“That’s fine, it would have been inappropriate for us to take away my sister’s spotlight,” I grin, pulling him back into a hug, “I accept, nonetheless.”

“Really?”

“I do expect a proper proposal back  in Seoul.”

“As you wish, always.”

—

Jihoon proposes with a car full of balloons, and he enlists the help of the other guys to make the proposal truly memorable, a phrase that I’m rapidly beginning to attribute to him. its gorgeous, and everything I had never imagined when it came to a proposal. The wedding, however, is much my style, the two of us traipsing down to the courthouse to submit a form and being declared married by the clerk, who tells us darkly that there’s a divorce counter just in the next room. Jihoon laughs, and I laugh, before walking out of the courthouse to meet our friends (and family) for dinner.

It’s a new life.

—

To LJH,

For being my friend.

[fawninthesnow]

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞: 2 | Maternal! figure | Caracalla & Geta

Summary: You visit the young princes in the palace; While teaching, and tell them a folktale of a wolf and its two creations.

Warnings: Fluff, (slight) angst, english is not my first language, foreshadowing, spoilers

Work count: 1k

a/n: Keep in mind they are around 14-16 here and orphaned already. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. This series is for that.

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

“Give it to me! I want to read it!” The boys tugged at the letter, snatching it back and forth between them. Finally, Geta managed to wrest it from his brother's grasp and held it high above his head. “You can barely read her writing. Let me read it to you!” Caracalla folded his arms and listened.

Hello, my loves. I’m writing to you from Germania. I miss you both more than words can express; my heart aches at the thought of you being alone in that palace. However, I take comfort in knowing that you have each other. I eagerly await the day when I can hold you both in my arms again. I’ve written two letters, so please, for my sake, stop arguing over who gets to keep the paper.

Caracalla took the envelope from the table; the boys sit beside each other, reading from the papers.

When I get back, we can get to your studies. Hopefully this time without much of a fight—Geta.

Caracalla nudged his brother.

If you are reading this, I should be on the coast of Corsica.

The two turned to each other, “That means she is only a day away, Calla!” His brother excitedly beamed, holding onto the letter in his hands with a careful yet tight hold.

Each moment feels like a journey around the sun without both of you. Please know that my love for you exceeds what I can express and what you can ever imagine. With all my love, Lady [Y/n].

The boys stayed awake that night, eager not to miss your arrival. Typically, it was Caracalla who would stay up late or rise before dawn to spend more time with you. However, since they hadn’t seen you since the holidays and with the new year already upon them, neither wanted to waste a moment away from you.

Geta held a small torch in his clutch, his brother’s hand in the other. “Calla, stay awake.” He sighed as his brother nodded off while standing. Geta led his brother to his room and tucked him in bed.

“Where are you going?” Caracalla asked as he regained some consciousness.

“I will stay with you.” He laid his head back onto the pillow.

You glanced into the bedroom when you heard their voices. The two were facing each other, unaware of your presence. As you stepped inside and smiled, Geta instantly stood up and rushed into your arms. “He is sleeping?” Geta nodded, his head buried in your clothes. “Are you tired?” He didn't need to agree; it was evident. You climbed into bed with Caracalla and carefully lifted Geta, bringing him in as well. In response to your scent, Caracalla turned toward you and wrapped his arm around your side. On your other side, Geta mirrored the gesture. You pulled the blanket over all three of you. “I love you both so much.”

***

“Grab it, Caracalla!” His brother yelled as he jumped back into the fountain. His brother continued to laugh, taking his time with the slithering creature. “Caracalla! I swear!”

The boy picked up the snake in his two hands and inches closer to his brother. “…oh, Geta?”

“I’ll tell! I’ll tell [Y/n]!”

“Tell me what?” You left the palace and joined them in the overgrown courtyard. Upon seeing the snake in Caracalla’s hands you frowned, your hands on your hips. He looked down at his feet and placed the snake back into the bushes. Geta ran to your side and held onto your clothes. “You know better.”

“I know.”

“You know your brother hates snakes too.”

“I know.” He repeated. You did not need to tell him to apologize. “I am sorry, Geta.”

“If I see another snake in your hands, you will go to your room.” The boy groaned, “Wait…why are you both out here? You should be inside with your studies.” The two brothers looked at each other.

Inside, you read from a scroll and the two boys took notes, “Beyond the oaks in Germania, Gray wolves are carnivorous and primarily hunt ungulates such as deer, wild boar, and even smaller mammals; ready to traverse for several miles. Do you recall the ways they communicate?”

“Howls, body language, and scent marking.” Caracalla said, rather doubtful of himself.

“That is true! Good job.” You cuffed his cheek. “Wolves have a special place in German literature; representing wilderness and the untamed spirit of nature.” You gaze fell on the two and cleared your throat. “Would you both like to hear a story?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, please.”

You took a few of Caracalla’s wooden toys; a wolf, two boys and two rather worn figures. “There once were two people…although they tried, they never could tame this wolf.”

“Hm? Why didn’t they just give it away?” Caracalla asked.

“Well, it is an animal that cannot be disposed of. Now, others would come to their home and would give the two all kinds of advice! ‘Just hit it, it will listen.’ ‘Let it be, it will listen.’ ‘Put it outside, it will listen.’ Nothing worked. The wolf would always come back…rowdy, violent and disobedient.”

“It is a wild creature! Why would they invite it into their home to begin with?” Geta asked and leaned forward, rather invested.

“Some things come inside without an invitation.” The two brothers looked at each other. You pushed the two figures away, leaving the two boys and the wolf. “And the two people…they had two children soon after, leaving the wolf with them.” The boys looked rather puzzled, sad---

“As the children grew, the wolf would linger around the home. Eventually, the children grew fond of it. They shared a bed, food. Soon, they built a home just for the wolf, visiting it every day.”

“They should kill the wolf.” Geta spat.

“That is a very big task, Geta.” You said softly, looking him in his brown eyes. “What do you think, Caracalla? What would you do?”

“I am not sure…I would treat it like a wild animal. I would never make a home for it.”

You squeezed their cheeks. “Alright. That is enough for today.”

Part 1

A/n: Wolf is in reference to the movie but does not mean the same thing. <3 After doing more research on the actual twin emperors of rome, I am now aware Caracalla is older yet loved his brother very much; I will be going off of their real stories instead of the movie! I love the movies dearly lol but I prioritize my writing.

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

Must be following to be added to next taglist! I prioritize my followers <3

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: t cw: implied car wreck, traffic, smoking tags: pining idiots, pre-steddie, mentioned Buckingham, word count: 928

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "traffic"

-

“Remember when you had the hots for Tiffani?” Eddie asked, his feet kicked up on the dashboard as he relaxed into the corner of the seat.

“Why is she the one everyone holds against me?”

“Because she made you a doll…of yourself.”

“So? You made a little guy that was me, hand-painted and everything,” Steve shook his head and grabbed the cigarettes.

Eddie knew he was pushing the guy’s buttons and should probably tread lightly but it was so fun and almost too easy. Plus, there wasn’t anything else to do. All they had for entertainment beyond riling up Steve was watching the daylight slowly disappear. Even the radio couldn't save them as they conserved gas.

He watched the cigarette find its home between Steve’s lips and fought every urge to hold his lighter out, lit and desperate for the closeness it’d require. Instead, Steve stared off into the horizon and waited for the lighter in the van to warm up.

“That’s different. First of all," Eddie started, finger to the sky. "You asked me to make that. I didn’t do it for fun and I never sneakily cut your hair to use for realism.”

“Neither did Tiffani.”

“You sure about that, I swear we all saw a little bald patch for a while.”

“You could, ya know, you could walk to Indianapolis. I think you’d probably beat me there,” Steve huffed.

It was so perfectly Steve that it made Eddie want to scream. He was literally pushing Eddie away but wrapping it up with a neat little bow. Get the hell out of the car but also then you wouldn’t be stuck in this god-awful traffic. I'm helping you more than I'm helping me.

He’d probably give Eddie his coat, a couple of quarters to call anyone should he need to, and a snack before literally kicking him out.

Of course, that was all if it wasn’t such a hollow threat. Eddie had more than learned that in all their time together. Something he hadn’t expected to say but here he was spending a lot of his free time with The Steve Harrington. Perhaps the weirdest thing to come from this whole monsters and alternate dimensions thing was learning what made the guy tick.

“God and miss hanging out with you? I love being trapped in my van and snapped at because you can’t control the weather.”

“We don’t know that the weather did this,” Steve finally lit his cigarette and cracked the window. Eddie tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away. It was some kink Eddie didn’t know he’d had until Steve.

“Either directly or indirectly, it did. So who are you kissing at midnight?”

“Is that why you were asking about Tiffani?” Steve said, passing over the cigarette just like Eddie knew he would. It was why he didn’t light his own, he wanted to share with Steve.

“You think Robin and Chris invited her to their place for the party? Robin likes to make you squirm but that feels too much for even her.”

“Nah because then she’d had to admit she was flirting with her too,” Steve laughed, holding his hand out for the cigarette.

They were losing the last bits of daylight and Eddie started to feel a little anxious. They’d been there for far too long and they had a limited break in the weather. The longer they sat here the worse it was going to be when they finally got moving. Hanging out with Steve was starting to rub off on Eddie. He was thinking practically. It was awful.

A few brake lights ahead of them lit up and gave Eddie a bit of hope. He shook his head and said “Gross” to what Steve had said.

“So who are you kissing at midnight then? You’re not going to be doing any better than I am,” Steve poked. Eddie deserved this for getting him worked up but he didn’t enjoy it.

“I dunno, maybe our odds are about the same,” he said, feeling just a little brave as he refused to make eye contact. Even as he felt the cigarette offered again.

All of this was ramping up to something but Steve wasn’t following the script. He was on edge and quicker to fight than normal. Something Eddie usually loved and even now was enjoying a bit but that’s because it was better than thinking too hard about asking the man to be his New Year’s kiss.

To confess he’d been harboring a crush so big it was impacting everyone around them seemed the perfect road trip confession. Eddie was even blessed with traffic. Which did little more than give him more time not to pull the trigger. It shouldn't be this hard, yet Eddie stayed silent.

He sucked in a breath and tried to stop thinking about it. The more he tried to set up the perfect conversation, the harder it seemed to be.

And as mentally planned, the van filled with whoops and cheers, only they weren't for Eddie’s confession. It was joy punctuated by Steve slamming the gear shift into drive. “We’re moving!” He said, shaking the wheel. With one last drag from the cigarette, he passed it off to Eddie. “Come on, I don’t think we’ll even be late.”

“Great,” Eddie sighed and watched the moment slowly creep by like the discarded McDonalds bag he’d been staring at for the past hour. He’d missed his chance and there was no way the universe was going to hand him another. Not like that.

[noturlondonboy]

so I imagine Kate talk quite a bit during sex, I was wondering what kind of things she says to Yelena? Do you thing Yelena has a praise kink?

18+ mdni

-originally my first thought is that no, Yelena does not have a praise kink, because I think she would just take it as condescending and not take any shit. But with Kate, after they’ve worked on stuff and helped her get to a place that is comfortable, she knows that Kate means every word. She loves being told that she’s doing a good job whether she’s topping or being the sweetest pillow princess, and she always melts when Kate goes a little feral and tells her how beautiful she is as she eats her out.

-Kate is very vocal when she has the freedom to be, but if she’s not saying actual words or trying to convey something to Yelena, her noises are small and limited, usually breathy little gasps or a squeak here and there. She swears a lot, too, but if they have to be quiet, she’s actually very capable of not making a sound.

-Yelena is the opposite in these regards. She doesn’t use very many full words, but she’s surprisingly loud when she feels safe and protected. She can be quiet when needed, but Kate seems to override her mission instincts when she suddenly decides to start flirting and teasing.

-when Kate is topping, she loves to fuel Yelena’s praise kink. She isn’t into degration in almost any way, unless Yelena were to ever specifically ask for it. She wants to tell her girl how good she’s doing at any time of the day, and she doesn’t hold back on compliments and praise, no matter where they are or what they’re doing.

-hell, even if Kate isn’t topping, she’s still praising Yelena enough to make her come just with that alone. “You fuck me so well, babydoll, you make me feel so good.” Etc etc. Use your imagination.

-Kate is also a huge dirty talker, and Yelena would be lying if she said she didn’t like it. It just gets both of them going that much more. Yelena often joins in on it and sometimes it’s more of a competition than anything.

[justalittleweird]

Just some shit that gets me... I know it's long... some of my fav quotes... there's so many

"You hurt my brother, I'll kill you, I swear. I will kill you all." -1x15

"You said you're a big brother. You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?" "Yeah, I would." -1x18

"That's my boy." -1x11&1x21

"I'm gonna say this one time you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me?" - 2x09

"Come here. Let me look at you... Hey, look at me, it's not even that bad. All right?... I'm gonna take care of you. I got you. That's my job, right?... Oh god..." -2.21

"I always tried to protect you... keep you safe." -2x22

"Don't get mad at me, don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job." "You save my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me, don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." - 2x22

"'Cause I know you... 'cause I've been following you around my entire life. I've been looking up to you since I was 4, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world... I wish you'd drop the show and be my brother again... just cause." -3x07

"Sammy, all I'm saying is that you're my weak spot. You are. And I'm yours." "You don't mean that. We're-We're family." -3x16

"Got your lunch? Books? Butterfly Knife?.. you okay?" -4x13

"You poisoned him." "No, I gave him what he needed, and it wasn't some bitch in a g-string. It was you." -4x14

"I'm sorry." -4x22

"I don't think we can ever be what we were. You know? I just don't think I can trust you." -5x01

"Because whatever we have between us. Love. Family. Whatever it is, they are always going to use it against us. And you know that." -5x03

"I just know we're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human." "Thank you, really... I won't let you down." -5x03

"In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day – sometimes a week, if they were lucky... Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything... when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars for hours without saying a word. It never occurred to them that...maybe they never really had a roof and four walls…but they were never, in fact, homeless." -5x22

"Sam, it's okay. I'm here... I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you." "It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him." -5x22

"Look at me. Come on. You don’t know what’s real?... Let me see your hand... This is real...I was with you when you cut it, I sewed it up. Hey, I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay? I’m the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real-time. You got away. We got you out, Sammy... Believe me, okay? You gotta believe me. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it." -7.02

"You can barely do it with me. I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?"

"Come on, man. That's not what I meant."

"No, it's exactly what you meant. You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down. I can't do that again. What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again?...who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel? Another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother just.."

"Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it -- none of it -- is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy…come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you." -8x23