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simpjaes · 9 months ago

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HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later.

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up.

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!!

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show? What’s not to love about it?

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire.

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work.

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage.

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers?

You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard.

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance.

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status.

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage.

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday.

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money.

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see.

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it.

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does.

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center.

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits.

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time.

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves.

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you.

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass.

“Jake, again?”

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though.

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe.

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.”

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out.

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays.

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good.

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity.

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even.

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others.

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?”

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him.

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.”

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with.

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him.

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips.

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body.

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it.

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?”

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night.

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule.

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap.

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has.

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face.

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?”

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him.

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper.

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you.

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free.

The game is on now though, it seems, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out.

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile.

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours.

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?”

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it.

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him.

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win.

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him.

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?”

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin.

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?”

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you.

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks.

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked.

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it.

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special.

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching.

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined.

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him.

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him.

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment.

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick.

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you.

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out.

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in.

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric.

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice.

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags.

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face.

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now.

You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture.

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him.

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker.

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.”

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back.

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing.

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls.

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak.

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you.

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway.

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked.

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again.

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping.

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.”

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this.

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you. He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do.

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you.

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held.

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely?

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.”

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch.

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door.

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob.

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jongseong smut #jay smut #park jay smut #jay park smut #enha smut

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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago

Text

june gloom - r.c.

(Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader, 4.5k words)

summary: After 8 beautiful months tangled up with the richest man on the island, your trist comes to a screeching hault when it's time for him to find a girl more suited to his lifestyle. Even though you tried to move on, a photo of a new girl on his arm sends you both into a spiral that ends with him back in your bed.

content: angst/smut, drinking, smoking, what could be perceived as infidelity but technically isn't. this story is 18+ minors do not interact.

You met him in September, at a nightclub on the mainland. You had been dancing with your girlfriends all night, celebrating your best friend’s bachelorette party. It was the fourth bachelorette you’d been to in a year, now at the age when all of your friends were settling down and getting married. There was no ring in sight for you, though. Your friends would laugh and call you the wild stallion, a running joke among the group that no man could tame you. You never saw the point in marriage. You were stubbornly independent, insistent that you would make your own way in the world, promising yourself you’d never be just someone’s little wife.

You knew this choice meant you’d struggle a little more than your friends, most of whom ‘married-up’ financially. You didn’t grow up with money, and you didn’t have any now. You had spent your whole life on The Cut and you had no problem spending the rest of it there. If the trade off for living your life however you wanted was hustling and jumping between dead-end jobs, so be it. You were much more interested in collecting stories anyway, always looking for wild nights and strange characters to fill your life with, briefly, not keeping anyone around for too long.

You went out every weekend, no Monday 9-to-5 looming over your fun. You’d brought many guys back to the little shack by the water that you rented, your barely-one-bedroom, as you called it lovingly. All the other bachelorette parties ended up with you bringing some guy back to your apartment for some pretty good sex and a completely ingenuine “I’ll text you sometime.” So when you stepped off the dance floor, sweat making your silk-slip dress cling to your curves, and the bartender handed you a drink that was a gift “from that guy over there” you smiled wide, knowing this night would go exactly as planned.

You smiled slyly at the tall blond in the corner as you took a delicate sip of your drink. He was gorgeous, eyeing you up and down like he was starved for you. His large frame was crowding the booth of the VIP section as he winked and lifted his glass to you in salute.

This time, there was a problem. This time, the sex wasn’t pretty good. This time, the sex was earth shatteringly incredible. You genuinely didn’t know sex could be that good, that a guy you met at a bar could ever be capable of making you feel so euphoric, or come so hard, so many times. You didn’t know your own body was capable of the things he got it to do. You didn’t think you’d ever want to stay up talking and laughing with one of your hook-ups like you did that night. You didn’t think you’d ever wake up disappointed that the guy from the night before wasn’t in the bed next to you. And you definitely didn’t think you’d ever be the one to pull out your phone and text him first.

After that night, you saw each other regularly. It turned out he lived on the island too, though his estate was on the rich side of town. That first night, he only told you his first name. But when he had you put your number in his phone and text yourself so you’d have his, a note popped up at the top of the text thread that said “maybe: Rafe Cameron.” You recognized the surname immediately, it was everywhere on this island. After he left the second time, you googled him. Thousands of hits came up, articles about his family, pictures of them at their estate, on their yacht, at charity galas and property groundbreakings. Even though you knew his drive back from your place was only a couple of minutes, every night when he snuck out into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel like he was retreating to a completely different universe.

After a few weeks, Rafe’s late night visits started getting longer and longer. After he’d fold you into shapes you didn’t know you could make and fuck you breathless, you’d lay in your bed, his head on your chest, smoking a joint and talking for hours. You talked about everything, the conversations weaving between casual chats about your common interests, to deep talks about purpose, values, and trauma, to joking around and teasing each other until you were giggling below him and he was smiling into the skin of your neck.

You’d tell him about your plans to never settle down and keep chasing the next adventure. He’d tell you about his asshole of a father and the grand plans he had for him. Neither of you ever acknowledged how antithetical your life plans were. The truth that nothing real would ever work between you would hang in the air everyone once in a while, but you’d just push away the tension with a joke and fuck again.

Even though your nights together would bleed well into the early morning, Rafe never stayed over. It was an unspoken rule between you, he never told you he wanted to stay and you never asked him to. You told yourself it was a good thing, exactly what you wanted, as you shivered in your empty bed and cursed the loss of his warmth.

One night, that May, you and Rafe sat on your bed, eating the take-out he had ordered to your apartment after you’d finished fucking. He was quieter than usual, distracted. Just a little earlier, he had gone down on you for longer than he ever had. Taking his time, praising every inch of you with kisses. He whispered little nothings into the soft skin of your inner thighs before devouring you. “So beautiful” and “so good to me, baby” and “all I can fucking think about.” He always talked to you sweetly, saying the nicest words while doing the filthiest things to you, but this time was different. Typically he was rough, which you loved, but this night he moved slowly, without his usual urgency. He brought you to orgasm on his tongue twice, before fucking you in missionary, his forehead against yours as you came at the same time. Since that moment, he’d barely said anything to you outside of asking what you wanted for dinner.

You sat in silence and picked at the Chinese food he’d gotten from your favorite place. You watched him as he shifted uncomfortably on the mattress and twirled a chopstick between his long fingers.

“You don’t like your food?” You asked him hesitantly.

“Hmm?” He looked at you for the first time in several minutes. “Oh, no it’s fine, it’s good.”

His smile was tight as he set the containers on your nightstand, out of the way.

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t eat any of it,” you pointed out. You hoped your teasing would loosen him up a bit, but he just sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You asked quietly, your hand reaching out to gently pat his leg. You had never seen him like this before and had no idea how to proceed.

He looked up at you and leaned back against the headboard, biting the skin around his thumbnail. You were getting nervous.

“Rafe?”

“I, uh, had a talk with my dad today,” he muttered.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “And how did that go?”

“About as good as you might think,” he chuckled humorlessly.

Even though you didn't know his dad, after the many stories Rafe had told you about his father’s temper and general disapproval of him, you hated him.

You sat in silence, hand still on Rafe’s knee, as you waited for him to tell you more.

“He said, uh…” Rafe stalled, like he was struggling to find the right words.

“He said what?” Your heartbeat quickened in anticipation, the unfamiliarity of his tone throwing your thoughts into chaos.

When he still didn’t answer, you whispered, “Rafe you’re making me nervous.”

He responded to this, clearly feeling bad when he realized he had you on edge. He placed his hand over yours and finally made eye contact with you. You tilted your head and tried to read his expression with no luck.

“He told me he wants to make me the VP of Acquisitions at Cameron Development,” he finally said.

You shook your head slightly as a big smile of relief spread across your face.

“Oh,” you half-chuckled. “Well, Rafe, that's great! That’s what you wanted right?” You placed your other hand on his forearm and shook him playfully. “That’s good news, why are you acting like someone died? Jesus, you scared me!”

He smiled at the gesture, you knew he liked the way you’d mess with him. But then he straightened up more against the headboard, pulling away from you slightly.

“That’s not all he said,” he explained.

“What else? He’s going to give you a million dollars?” You joked.

“No,” he said sternly, making the smile fall from your lips immediately. “He said if I want this promotion that I need to get my shit together and…settle down.”

“Oh,” your brows furrowed as you considered his meaning, not quite understanding at first. When it hit you, you pulled your hands away from him completely. “Oh.”

“Y/n,” Rafe whispered, observing the way your lips curved down slightly.

“You’re ending this,” you said flatly, gesturing between the two of you.

“I didn’t say that,” he winced.

“But you are, though, I mean you have to,” you had steeled yourself into an impassive tone, trying to come across as unaffected.

Internally, you were on fire, feeling so foolish for how happy and giggly you had just been, oblivious to the fact that you were essentially being dumped.

Neither of you had ever said this was exclusive, you weren’t a couple, there was no commitment made. Still, the way he’d talk while he was inside of you made your head dizzy with the possibility of it all. There was an alternate universe out there somewhere in the cosmos, where he made you his for real, claimed you in public, put a ring on your finger. Sometimes, when he was so deep you were seeing stars and telling you how much he “loved being inside of his girl” you’d allow yourself to get lost in the fantasy, just for a minute.

Then you’d wake up alone, still poor, still a pogue. You’d light up a cigarette and let the smoke engulf your delusions.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He made it very clear that he expects me to find someone soon, to get married and start a family. I can’t do that with you, obviously.”

Obviously. Your throat tightened at the hurtful assertion.

“Right, obviously,” you agreed. “I mean I’m just a pogue who lives in this shithole and you should be with someone more worthy of you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Rafe muttered, closing his eyes tight in frustration. “I meant, ‘cause you know, you don’t want all that.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s okay, Rafe, I get it,” you scoffed. “This was never meant to be a long term thing anyway, we’re just fucking.”

It was such a ridiculous assertion, your trist had gone so far past just fucking, but you needed to convince yourself it was true otherwise there was no way you’d make it out of this unscathed.

Rafe just blinked back at you for a minute before standing from your bed. You were grateful he was moving quickly, the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you cry.

“Right, just fucking,” he agreed. “And I need someone who can run a house and have a family, y'know, and understands my world.”

Every single word felt like a knife in your gut. You nodded like you couldn’t agree more, shuffling down in your bed and pulling the covers up.

“Okay then,” you fluffed your pillow, as if it was any other night and you were just getting ready for bed. “I hope it all works out. This was fun, though. Lock the door on your way out?”

Rafe looked down at you for a few seconds, your back to him as you settled into your pillows.

“You got it,” he answered.

And then he was gone. And for the first time in your life, you cried yourself to sleep.

It was June now, a month had passed since the night you last spoke to Rafe. You had started going out even more than you were before you met him. You friends joked that you were alive from the dead, since you had chosen nights in with Rafe over social events for so many months.

You were dancing at the same club where you met Rafe so many months earlier. You joined a few of your girls at the bar and waved down the bartender for another drink.

“...posted on her story,” you leaned in to catch the end of your friend’s sentence. The girls were all leaning over to look at something on one of their phones.

“What are we looking at?” You slurred, already a few drinks deep.

The girl holding the phone told you they were looking at the instagram of a local influencer you all knew of.

You made a fake gagging noise. She was one of the richest girls on the island, infamous among you and your friends for her obnoxiously lavish lifestyle and her overly edited social media pictures.

“Ew, why?” you questioned them, accepting your usual drink from the bartender with a wink.

“Look at what she posted tonight,” your friend holding the phone showed you the screen.

You studied the photo, your grasp around the cold glass got tighter as you took it in, your knuckles going white. It was a selfie - the girl you couldn't stand all done up in diamonds and red lipstick, gazing up lovingly at Rafe Cameron.

There was no caption, just a little heart-eyes emoji and his instagram tagged.

You never told your friends about you and Rafe. You felt strangely protective over what you had with him, not willing to hear any negative feedback about fucking around with a Kook prince. You knew they wouldn’t understand how perfect and intense your nights with him were. They wouldn’t believe that he was funny, sweet, tender. No one would ever know him like you did.

Like you used to know him.

You took a sip of your drink and tried to act unaffected by the picture. In reality, your world was crashing around you. You knew he’d find his perfect Kook princess eventually, but you didn’t know it would be so soon, or that it would be her. You half-listened as one of the girls explained that she heard from a mutual friend that they weren’t official yet, but you knew they would be soon enough. Everything would go to plan for him, he’d get everything he ever wanted and you’d just watch through a screen.

After telling your friends you had a headache, you took a ferry back to the island and walked to your apartment in the dark. It was a questionable choice in this part of town, but you needed the early summer night air to clear your brain. By the time you got back to your apartment you were sober, and yet you still felt like you might throw up.

You ran the shower in your tiny bathroom, letting the steam fill up the space and sink into your pores. The hot water turned your skin red and blotchy, but you couldn’t feel a thing.

BANG BANG BANG.

Your eyes flew open and you turned the faucet off quickly, hands shaking in panic. It was nearly 2 a.m. and someone was pounding on your front door. You wrapped a towel around yourself and padded lightly over the front door.

“Who is it?” You yelled, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

“It’s me,” a deep voice answered from the other side. You peered into the peephole, even though you didn’t need to see him to know who the voice belonged to.

Rafe stood on the other side, his white button up untucked and his tie loosened. It must be the same outfit he was wearing in the picture.

Your body and brain both paused, unable to process the shock of seeing him standing under your porch light.

“What do you want?” You questioned.

“Can I come in please?” His voice was strained, weak even.

“Why?” You said with a guarded edge to your tone.

“Y/n…” Rafe pleaded.

Despite every instinct you had, you opened the door.

He looked frenzied, his hair tousled, and the hem of his suit pants splattered with mud. He still looked fucking hot, his sleeves rolled up a bit, revealing his muscular forearms.

“What happened to you?” You asked.

“I walked here.” His eyes flickered up and down your figure, taking in the sight of you in just a towel, licking his lips.

Your stomach tightened at the hunger in his eyes, but the pain of the last month burned fresh in your mind. Getting over him was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and the long, painful process wasn’t even over yet. Seeing that picture tonight was just another sharp spike in the barbed wire he had wrapped around your heart.

“She couldn’t have given you a ride?” You spat at him.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t need to ask who you were referring to.

“I asked her not to post that picture, I didn’t want you to see that,” he huffed.

“Why not? I knew it was coming." You summoned the same unbothered tone from the night he left you.

“We’re not-” he stumbled over his words, looking down at his feet. “She isn’t my girlfriend…”

“Yet." You jumped to the end of his sentence for him. His eyes flew up to yours. “But she will be,” you surmised with a sad smile.

He doesn’t disagree with you.

“She’s perfect,” you continue. “Gorgeous, rich, part of your world.”

He sighs regretfully, both of you recognizing the words he said to you a month earlier.

“I know,” he agrees.

“Then why did you come here?”

He doesn’t answer you, just clenches his jaw and keeps his eyes firmly locked to yours.

“She’s everything you wanted,” you point out.

He nods his head in agreement again, “you’re right.”

“So then why are you here?” You repeat.

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly, blue eyes locked onto your lips.

“‘Cause she’s not you.”

You wish it didn’t make your heart race, wish it didn’t make your stomach flip, and you really wish it didn’t make you let out a small, nearly inaudible gasp. His heavily lidded eyes fogged over with need as he studied your face intently. Your gaze dropped from his eyes, to his lips, to his heaving chest, to his wringing hands. He flexed his fingers anxiously, and you wished you didn’t know what they felt like buried inside of you.

Your mind was racing, a million thoughts and most of them were warnings. You knew how this ends, the morning would come and he wouldn't be there. And a year from now they’ll be married and you’ll be haunted by this night. Every self-protective instinct you have left screamed in your head, pleading with you to make the right choice.

You were ready to appease the voices, about to close the door in his face, when his fingers reached towards you and just barely grazed the seam of your towel, tugging slightly with the most restraint you think he’s ever shown. All the noise in your head just stopped. Suddenly there was nothing in the entire world except for the man in front of you.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you breathed out hard and fast before grabbing his face in both of your hands and crashing your lips into his.

He lost it at the sound of his name on your lips and the taste of you on his tongue. His hands landed firmly on your waist, squeezing hard. His lips parted yours and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot and greedy. His hands slipped to your lower back, caging you into him with a flex of his biceps. You let out the sweetest little grunt as you jumped up, your arms and legs wrapping around him so he could carry you.

With you in his arms, he walked into your apartment. Still kissing him, you reached out and slammed the door closed. He let go of you with one hand to reach back and turn the lock, a sign of strength as he held up your whole body with one arm like you weigh nothing. He walked you both through your small apartment, not needing to look where he’s going to find your bedroom.

He bent low to drop you on the bed, you released your grip around his shoulders just long enough for him to roughly rip his shirt open and pull it off. He was back on top of you in seconds, lifting you up to scoot you both up to the top of the mattress.

As his lips moved to your neck, you realized you’re already falling back into your old patterns, with Rafe controlling the tempo and doing most of the work. The familiarity made you anxious, you had gotten so addicted to the way he commanded your body and you weren’t sure you’d survive another detox. When he started rolling his hips against you, you could feel how hard and ready he was under his slacks, and made a decision.

You reached up behind his head and laced your fingers through his hair, tugging hard to separate his lips from your skin. A gasp passed through his lips at the sensation.

“You want me, baby?” You purred.

His brows furrowed, but he was too desperate to play games.

“So badly,” he admitted.

“You want to be inside of me?”

His eyes rolled back slightly at the sound of your dirty words. When he didn't answer, you arched your back and pressed up into his aching cock, letting the towel open just enough to expose your bare core, your wetness soaking into the soft fabric of his pants.

“I need it,” he groaned. “Need to feel your pussy around me again.”

At this confession, you released his hair and pressed against his chest to roll him onto his back, straddling him. You kissed him again, just as fevered as before. While your mouth clashed with his, your hands undid his belt and he lifted his hips to allow you to pull his slacks down, leaving him in his snug briefs. You bit his lip, smiling smugly when he moaned. You licked a stripe up his neck, loving the salty taste, Rafe already sweaty from how worked up you’ve got him.

You kiss up his neck, until your mouth is pressed into the shell of his ear.

You whispered, “Does she feel as good as me?”

Rafe said your name in warning, clearly not wanting to talk about her while you were on top of him like this.

You pulled his earlobe between your teeth and bit down, making him wince, pleasured by the pain.

“Answer me,” you demanded.

“N-no,” he stuttered as you pressed your hips down hard, your now dripping pussy sliding over the outline of his cock.

You sat up straight, and he tried to follow you, his head lifting from the pillow, but you laid your hand softly on his chest and pushed him back down.

Rafe watched as you slowly open the towel and dropped it to the floor, revealing yourself completely. He lifted his hands subconsciously, reaching for your tits. You grabbed his wrists and held his hands back, just inches from your skin.

“Does she make you as hard as I do?” You said with another circle of your hips.

He shook his head back and forth rapidly, relenting to your game. You lowered one of his hands, raising your hips off of him slightly, one more question in mind.

He inhaled sharply as you dragged his hand against your pussy, his fingers instinctively rubbing with the perfect pressure.

“Does she get this wet for you, baby?”

“Fuck,” he grunted through clenched teeth, “No.”

You leaned back over him, lips hovering over his, your breath intertwined.

“Then fuck me like you’ll never be able to fuck her.”

Rafe’s restraint snapped in half and he flipped you on your back. He ripped his briefs down with one hand, while the other ran over your calf and brought it to his shoulder.

He filled you like only he can, like he was tailor made for you. You clenched around him hard as he pounded into you, eventually lifting your other leg so you could dig your heels into his shoulder. No more words were exchanged, the ecstasy and exertion and emotion all too intense for either of you to form words.

This is it, you told yourself, tomorrow he’ll belong to her.

The tops of your thighs pressed into your stomach as he bottomed out over and over again. You hoped he would think the water in your eyes was just a result of the pressure. He must've noticed it though, because he threaded his fingers with yours to soothe you, pressing his forehead against your temple, and panting desperately into your ear.

It only took a few more strokes for you both to come. The last time you heard his voice, he was crying out your name. He filled you completely, and you were still dripping with him when he climbed off of you, pulled his clothes on wordlessly, and left.

You laid still for a long while. No tears came to you this time, a bitter acceptance washing over you.

He’s gone for good now, leaving you with another wild story to tell and freeing you to throw yourself into the next adventure. And he’ll have a picture perfect life, with the perfect girl.

You both got exactly what you wanted…

…right?

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

part 2

#rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #angst #Rafe cameron angst #obx smut #smut #June gloom #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe obx #rafe cameron fic

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 4 months ago

Text

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity.

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick?

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even.

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused. Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke.

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio.

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently. His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman.

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open.

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..."

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased.

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did.

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion.

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained, amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking.

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit.

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside.

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts.

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times.

Nothing new.

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes.

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights.

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless...

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints.

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing.

Damned party, damned suit, damned you.

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast.

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you.

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted.

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t.

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing.

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare.

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it.

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy.

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him.

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you.

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible.

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft.

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction.

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey.

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear.

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go.

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it.

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment.

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress.

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless.

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget.

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him.

Like a condemnation.

"You won't."

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #pinefic #arthur morgan fanfic

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asahicore · 2 years ago

Text

all i see is gold - pjs (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. jay x fem!reader

synopsis. Pretending to be your number one's rival girlfriend to please his parents isn't how you would usually spend a Thursday night, but you really owe Jay a big one this time. You'd sworn this was just a one-time thing - and yet when his parents ask you to come again, the word 'yes' is out before you can stop it. Before you know it and much to your dismay, your feelings for Jay start to change, and you're in too deep to backtrack.

genre. college au, academic rivals to lovers, fake dating au, rich rich millionaire ceo's son jay x poor ass scholarship part-time job reader

warnings. heeseung is a mega asshole sorry to this man, slight violence like the girls are fighting, these two are pathetically in love w each other it's laughable actually, rich people being annoying slightly and also y/n's friends having way too much knowledge about fanfiction tropes... i like my fourth walls broken

word count. 27.1k

a/n. hi sisters user asahicore is back with another repost because she can't be asked to come up with anything original... sorry! i did add a new scene to this fic for.. character development. hope you guys enjoy it, as always let me know your thoughts otherwise i will find you and hold you at gunpoint, have fun love you stay healthy keep slaying bye bye!

“Actually, I think what you just said is complete bull.”

Jay rolled his eyes for the thousandth time in an hour and a few sniggers were heard around the room.

Your tutor sighed and, in an exhausted tone, asked you to “keep it polite, please. This is still a classroom setting.”

“Right, sorry.” You cleared your throat and sat up straighter. “I completely disagree with your statement, Jongseong. Just because a movie has young teenage girls as its target audience doesn’t mean it is completely insipid and has no value, like you’re insinuating. If you look at Mean Girls, for example-”

Jay scoffed. “Oh please, you’re not actually going to use Mean Gir-”

“Ah, would you look at the time? Class is over,” your tutor interrupted. “You can all go home and ponder the riveting discussion Jay and Y/N led today.”

You were pretty sure you heard a general sigh of relief from your classmates. After all, you couldn’t really blame them: it was only the first tutorial of the semester for that course and Jay and you were already at each other’s throats, having something to say about every idea the other put forward, no matter how small.

“Oh, and Jay, I do have to side with Y/N here. There’s a surprising amount of things that can be said about that film,” your tutor admitted with an apologetic smile. You, however, were harboring a triumphant expression. Nothing better than having the tutor agree with you against Jay.

As you packed your stuff away, mentally patting yourself on the back, Jay approached you, looking visibly annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N? Symbolism in Modern Cinema? Since where do you even care about movies?”

You gasped dramatically and put your hand over your heart, feigning shock. “Why, I’m offended that you think you’re the only one who’s allowed to love cinema, Jongseong.”

“Yeah, it’s my thing!” he whined like a child, and you gave him a look that hopefully made him reflect on what he’d just said.

You started walking out of the room and he followed, a step behind you. “I mean, there’s no way you didn’t know I was taking this class. Are you like, obsessed with me or something?”

“Yes, Jongseong, that’s exactly the case. I’m sooooo obsessed with you, I took this class just to see you.”

You were obviously joking, but he looked at you with a smirk and said, “I wouldn’t put it past you. I wouldn’t put it past anyone, to be honest; I mean I am the most good-looking, smartest, richest guy on camp- Ouch! That hurts!”

You had just punched him in the shoulder, not wanting to listen to his self-indulgent ramblings. “Get your head out of your ass, Park. I just thought it would be an interesting class. Why are you even taking it, anyway? I don’t think a cinema course is gonna teach you much on how to run daddy’s company,” you asked him, a smirk teasing your lips.

He rolled his eyes (you thought they might stay stuck at the back of his head, with how often he did that) and took a tone one might use to speak to a child. “You see, Y/N, I also major in Visual Studies. I’m not a single honors Econ major like you. Loser.”

He’d added the last word with a playful smile on his face, purposefully trying to rile you up. You were about to reply with an equally petty remark when you heard your name being called out.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Your heart started beating a thousand times a minute and you felt your hands get clammy. As you turned around, you forced a relaxed smile and told yourself to stay calm, but as soon as you made eye contact with the boy, all rational thought left your brain.

“H-hi, Heeseung.” You heard Jay snort behind you but were too entranced by Heeseung’s presence to tell him off.

Clearly enjoying your nervousness, Heeseung smiled at you and bent down so that he came directly face to face with you. “It was nice seeing you last Friday. You should come to our parties more often, not many people can set fire to the dance floor like you did.”

Your cheeks had already turned bright red when he’d called your name, but now you probably looked as crimson as a fire extinguisher. Over the weekend, you’d tried so hard to forget about that party where you had gotten black-out drunk and made a fool of yourself on the dance floor. Sure, you’d had a lot of fun, but when you remembered that Heeseung literally lived in the frat house that had hosted the pre-start of term gathering, you’d felt so embarrassed and wanted to never have to face him ever again. Yet here he was, and he had obviously seen you.

“O-oh, right, haha. Um, I was pretty drunk, but, yeah, um, it was f-fun.” You cringed at yourself. Where was the Y/N that had torn down Jay’s every argument just moments prior? You were usually self-assured and confident, but whenever you were around Heeseung, you didn’t know how to act.

Heeseung stood up straighter and patted your head. You thanked yourself for having washed your hair that morning. He chuckled and said, “That’s good to hear. Guess I’ll see you around, then?”

“Yeah!” you replied with a tad too much enthusiasm.

“Great.” As he walked past you, you didn’t need to turn around to see the nasty looks exchanged between Heeseung and Jay.

“Jongseong.”

“Heeseung.”

The venom with which they had spat the other’s name would’ve sent a chill down your spine any other time, but right now, you were too busy mooning over what had just happened. Like many girls on campus, you’d had a crush on him since freshman year; but unlike most, you’d never actually tried to do anything about it. Realistically, you could probably bag him - Heeseung could be seen with a different girl at every party and didn’t seem to be too picky about who he finished the night with. But you also couldn’t stand the idea of being just another drunk fuck to him. So, you’d never revealed your feelings to him, although he could most definitely see the effect he had on you.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jay burst into laughter. You turned around and looked at him, arms crossed, waiting for him to be done with an impatient look on your face. When he finally caught his breath, he had tears pooling at his eyes and was holding onto his belly.

“H-hi, Heeseung,” he breathed, trying to imitate you by making his voice higher in pitch but laughing too hard for it to come out properly.

“There’s nothing funny about this, Jongseong.”

“Oh, but there is, Y/N. And you know what the worst part is? You could do so, so much better than that guy. I mean, he’s a Business major, for fuck’s sake.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” you asked hotly, starting to get defensive.

“You’re studying Econ, Y/N. Dating a Business major, that’s like, the highest betrayal possible.”

You rolled your eyes at his stupid values and started walking towards the exit of the building, bumping into his shoulder on the way. He started following you again and added, “It’s not even just about that, Y/N. You know his reputation, he’s clearly bad news. There’s no point in liking a guy like that.”

Because you knew how much he hated it, you always made sure to call him Jongseong instead of Jay. But right now, you didn’t feel like joking around. You turned around abruptly, Jay almost bumping into you, and looked at him pointedly. “Look, Jay, I know you and Heeseung have this weird competition between the two of you of whose dad can make more money. But that doesn’t give you the right to tell me I shouldn’t like him.” And with a mumble, you added, “I can’t help liking him, okay?”

You went on your way again and Jay caught up with you so that the two of you were now walking side by side. Sighing, he said, “Whatever. When he inevitably hurts you, though, I’ll say I told you so.”

—

After flipping off Jay as your way of saying goodbye, you joined your friends in the cafeteria. You told them about your encounter with Heeseung, and as much as they wanted to support you, they couldn’t help but think your behavior at the party on Friday was hilarious.

“I wasn’t gonna show this to anyone, but I can’t hold it in anymore…” Sunoo said, pulling out his phone.

It wasn’t hard to guess what he might be hiding in there, so you quickly protested, “It’s been three days, Sunoo. I’m sure you can hold in whatever it is longer than that.”

He looked at you with a sheepish smile and said, as if he didn’t have a choice but to show everyone, “It’s so funny though.”

Sieun and Keeho were urging him to show them, so you just hung your head as Sunoo pressed play. You didn’t even need to look at the video to know what it was: even in his drunken state, Sunoo had had the foresight to film you as you danced like there was no tomorrow, knowing this was a special occasion. Your friends tried to reassure you that you didn’t look that bad and you just seemed to be having fun, but the sniggers they tried to hold back in vain told you otherwise.

Keeho seemed to take pity on you when seeing your defeated expression. “Y/N, I promise you it’s not that bad. You were very obviously drunk, and so was everyone else. If anybody remembers this, they’re probably thinking that you were fucking awesome. Can’t you see how everyone is cheering you on in the video?”

With an exasperated sigh, you replied, “I don’t care that everybody saw me. I care that Heeseung did. I only started drinking that much because I thought it’d help me relax and talk to him. I didn’t think I’d go wild on the dance floor.”

Your friends exchanged a look and immediately burst into laughter. You wanted to get mad at them, but even you had to admit the whole situation was pretty funny. You let them make as much fun of you as their hearts desired, then, to change the subject, told them about the tutorial you had in the morning with Jay and how much fun it had been arguing with him.

Sieun was looking at you thoughtfully, until she said, “You know, I think it’s…” she paused for a second, trying to find the right word, “interesting, how much effort you put into getting into the same class as Jay when you could’ve directed that energy towards getting into one of Heeseung’s class.”

The sudden statement took you aback. “Well, I wouldn’t say I put that much effort into it…” you stammered in an attempt to defend yourself.

“Y/N,” Keeho started, an accusatory tone to his words, “you literally asked Jake to tell you what courses he was taking this semester and when his tutorials were, and when you somehow managed to be enrolled in a class that’s supposed to be reserved for Visual Studies students, you emailed the tutor to make sure you’d be in the same group as Jay. I’d say that requires some effort.”

You huffed, mildly offended. “I- Well- I just thought it’d be fun to argue with him about something else than economics, you know. There’s only so much to say about that.” Your friends didn’t look very convinced. “Plus, there are no classes that Heeseung’s taking that seemed interesting, and even if they were and I managed to get into them, I just would’ve stuttered trying to answer easy questions. At least if I’m in a class with Jay, I know it’ll be fun.”

After that last sentence, Sieun looked at you like you had proven her point. What a smartass, you thought. What was she even trying to prove?

“Is no one gonna say it?” Sunoo asked, bewildered, looking around at your friends. “It sounds like you like him, Y/N.”

Oh.

Your automatic response was to go, “Pfffft,” but when Sieun and Keeho didn’t disagree with Sunoo, you looked at them, wide-eyed. “Are you guys serious? I don’t like Park Jongseong, that’s ridiculous.”

Sure, you liked arguing with Jay, that wasn’t a secret. That didn’t mean you liked him, or anything like that. Just the thought made you shiver. Dating Jay had never even occurred to you; as soon as you’d met, you had taken on a rival-like relationship, arguing about everything and anything. Sure, he was smart, and not too bad-looking, and he was really rich, and when he wanted he could actually be quite nice - but that was not the point! Most of the time, he was just annoying and argued with you for no reason other than to rile you up, and had the most unreasonable opinions you’d ever heard. He took his wealth for granted and sometimes came across as so privileged it made you want to puke.

Sieun took your hands in hers and tried to convince you with her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “But think about it, Y/N. It’s the enemies to lovers trope!”

You snatched your hands out from her grip and gave her a pointed look. ��This isn’t Wattpad, Sieun, this is real life. And Jay and I aren’t enemies, we’re merely rivals.”

“Even better!” she exclaimed.

“I completely agree with Sieun,” Sunoo said. “Y/N, you’re such a rivals to lovers type of gal.” You rolled your eyes, but Keeho was fervently nodding his head in agreement.

“By the way, did you guys hear about his parents’ company throwing a fundraiser?” Keeho said. This piqued your interest, but after your friends’ accusations, you couldn’t look too excited about anything Jay-related, so you nonchalantly asked him to go on. “It’s for some charity, they’ve invited all the big names, and apparently it’s gonna be huge so they need some people to waiter. I’m thinking of applying. It pays really well and it’s gonna be so fancy. It’s not like I’ve got much else to do that night anyway.”

“When is it?” you asked, still trying not to sound too interested.

“Friday in two weeks.”

“Well, if it’s a Friday, I’ll be getting wasted, so count me out,” Sunoo replied.

“I’d come, but the idea of serving rich people as they give out ten thousand dollars when they could give a million and it wouldn’t even affect them in the slightest, not to mention having to do it with a smile on my face, makes my skin crawl, so no thanks,” Sieun said. She wasn’t wrong, but this was also Jay’s parents you were talking about. Not only would Jay be there, and your presence would surely piss him off, but his dad’s company was one of the top of the country and being introduced to their world, maybe even getting to know some people there, even just as a waitress, could really benefit you in the long-term. You’d never admit it to him, but you’d been dreaming of working there ever since you’d first heard of it. Nothing might come out of this, but it was worth trying.

“What about you, Y/N? You in?”

You looked at Keeho and said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

—

The next time you saw Jay was for your Economics of Cities and Regions lecture a couple days later. As appropriate of the top students, you two always sat at the very front row along with only a few other brave students. Keeho was always bugging you to sit with him at the back, but you liked being able to look the professor in the eye so they could see how much attention you were paying to them. You listened carefully to the whole lecture, and when it ended, you turned to Jay and called his name in a sickly sweet voice, smiling as warmly as you could. He turned to you with a horrified look on his face.

“Please never do that again.”

Your smile instantly dropped. You should’ve known there was no point trying to be nice to him. “So, I’ve heard about your dad’s firm’s fundraiser…”

Before you could even finish your sentence, he interrupted you. “No. No way. You’re not working there. Nope. Not happening.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because this is an important night for me to make myself known as the CEO in line and I can’t have you distracting me.”

You didn’t question why he considered you a distraction and just pressed further. “C’mon! I promise I won’t be in your way.” He looked at you as if to say I don’t believe you. “I need the money.”

“Then get a part-time job.”

“I already have one! And it doesn’t pay very well.”

He looked at you and crossed his arms over his chest. No, you didn’t notice how his shirt tightened around his biceps. Shut up. Exasperated, he asked, “Do you even know what this fundraiser is for?”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Why did you need to know what it was for? All you needed was to work there and make some money. You just shrugged “No.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “You’re unbelievable. It’s to help students in need of scholarships. You know how my parents sometimes pay for students’ tuition fees? Well,” he sighed, and started to pack up his stuff. “This is to encourage CEOs of other companies to do the same. They’ve invited a few students to talk about why scholarships are important for them.”

Interesting, you thought. It’d have been nice to be one of those students, but being a waitress was already good enough. You’d have to be quicker to get the role next time. “I’ll be part of the waitering team, so I won’t embarrass you, don’t worry.”

After a beat, Jay asked, “Why are you even telling me this? I can say no all I want, I’m not the one deciding on the staff. I’d just really, really appreciate it if you didn’t come.”

You eyed him for a second until realization hit you. Right. It wasn’t like Jay had any say in this, so why were you trying to get him to agree? It had just seemed natural to you that you’d talk to him about this.

You shook your head and said, “Well, I’m gonna go anyway. I just thought I should let you know. That way you know you’re gonna need to bring your best game to impress me.”

You noticed Keeho waving his arm impatiently at you, waiting for you to leave the lecture theater. Jay watched you walk away, and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading on his face.

—

“So… Y/N will probably be working at the fundraiser,” Jay said, looking down at his notes. As on most days, Jake and Sunghoon were over at his place, half-studying, half-messing around.

The two boys in front of him groaned in unison. He raised his head and added defensively, “What? I’ve barely said anything yet.”

“Yeah, but you’re talking about Y/N. Again,” Jake said, as if stating the obvious.

“You know, I’m actually surprised he’s managed to not mention her for that long. It’s been what, fifteen minutes since we got here?” Sunghoon half-joked.

Used to his friends’ teasing, Jay ignored them and continued. “On any other occasion, I’d be more than happy to have her around” - cue another groan from Jake and Sunghoon - “but I really have to impress my parents and all the guests that evening. If I don’t, I’m gonna have to work twice as hard.”

Indulging his friend’s rant, Jake asked, “What’s wrong with her being there? She’s not gonna go around and tell everyone you’re a little shit as she hands them champagne glasses.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No, of course not, but I’m gonna be hyper-aware of her presence and I don’t want it to distract me.” A third groan. “Plus, I don’t like the idea of her being there as a waitress. She should be with the students who talk to the guests, she deserves it more than anybody I know.”

After a beat, Sunghoon, with gracious subtlety and tact as always, added, “You know, if you had just manned up and asked her out in freshman year when you still had the chance, maybe you could’ve taken her to the fundraiser as your girlfriend and not have her go there as a waitress. Just saying.”

“It’s 2022, Sunghoon, nobody says things like ‘man up’ anymore.”

“You dumbass, is that all you’re hearing from what I just said-”

“What I think Sunghoon is trying to say,” Jake cut in, “is that this could have been avoided had you had the guts to tell her how you feel. But rest assured, my friend, it can still happen. No such thing as too late.”

“You always say that, but how the fuck am I supposed to ask her out when she’s only ever seen me as her rival? Plus, she’s head over heels for that prick.”

Sensing that Sunghoon was getting ready to deliver another one of his punchlines, Jake quickly replied. “Who cares about Heeseung? It wouldn’t be hard to make her see what an asshole he is. And once that’s done, you can just give her the Park charm,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sunghoon fake gagged at the thought of his friend trying to flirt, and even Jay had to admit he hated how Jake had formulated his sentence. “That’s all I do though. As soon as we met, we got into arguing, and that’s just how we communicate now. She wants competition, so I give her competition. I don’t know what else to do.”

His friends sighed, unsure what to tell him after having had the same conversation hundreds of times. “Did you ask her why she took that cinema course? I thought it was weird she asked me for all that info. She wanted me to keep hush-hush about it, too,” Jake asked.

Jay thought for a second, then answered, “I did ask her if she was obsessed with me.” A fourth, deserved, groan. “She just said she thought the class seemed interesting. She didn’t even know I was a double major, by the way.”

Jake and Sunghoon chuckled, both thinking but not daring to say that, indeed, no one knew Jay also majored in Visual Studies. The three boys continued chatting for a while until they fell into silence and finally started getting some work done.

Jay managed to get you out of his head for a couple hours, but when his friends left and he was alone, his thoughts immediately drifted back to you. When the two of you first met in freshman year, you had become instant rivals, both top of your class, and always disagreeing on everything. He hadn’t minded the dynamic at first: he thought your ideas and the conversations that stemmed from them were always interesting, and he had a lot of respect for you. He wanted to know why you thought that way or what made you say certain things, and soon enough he wanted to know everything about you. He’d noticed things like how you chewed on your pen when you were in deep reflection, or how you’d look intently at anyone who was talking, as if you were making mental bullet points of their arguments only to break them down afterwards. When he finally realized his feelings for you (not without help from Jake and Sunghoon, who thought he couldn’t get any more obvious), he felt like your rivalry-almost-turned-friendship had gone too far, and you’d think he was stupid for liking you. It didn’t help that your confident attitude always broke down in front of his arch nemesis Lee Heeseung, making it painfully clear that you had a crush on him.

That night, he kept tossing and turning in his bed, trying to fall asleep. He hated the idea of you having to be there as a waitress, handing out drinks and mini toasts to entitled guests who probably wouldn’t even look at you. There had to be a few strings he could pull, right?

—

In all twenty years of your life, you had never been to a place like this. As soon as you’d entered the lobby of the building in which the fundraiser took place, you’d been overwhelmed by the sheer extravagance of the room. Every surface was shiny marble, the ceilings were at least fifteen meters high and the whole place was lit up by tiny wall lamps. You were almost scared to see what the actual ballroom would look like.

The fundraiser started at 8:00 p.m. but the staff had been advised to come earlier to prepare everything. You went further in, and now that you had somehow acclimated to your surroundings, you noticed how busy everyone was. People were running around, going from the kitchen to the back room to the main hall in quick strides. You tried getting one woman’s attention, hoping she could direct you to where you were supposed to go.

“Sorry, hi, where do the wai-”

She stopped dead in her tracks and barely looked at you as she whipped out a sheet of paper from her blouse pocket and asked for your name.

“Um, Y/N-”

She checked something off and looked up at you and smiled. “Great, follow me.” You had no time to ask anything else before she swiveled on her heels again and marched towards another room, you in tow behind her. “We’ve got a script ready for you. You just need to learn it in time for tonight and then use your charm on the guests. Oh, and don’t worry about your outfit and all that, we’ve got it covered. Good luck!” And with that, she was off.

Script? Outfit? What was all this about? You panic-texted Keeho, telling him some lady had dragged you somewhere and told you to learn a whole script. When he didn’t answer after five minutes, you assumed he must be busy helping out, but it made you panic even more. You looked around the room and noticed a girl you thought you recognized from one of your classes. You walked up to her, and after saying hi, asked her what the hell was going on here.

She looked at you a bit oddly, as if it didn’t make sense you didn’t know where you were, but clarified things nonetheless. “Basically, the six of us are going to be wearing these tags so that the guests know who we are, and we’re gonna give them a pity story about how we’re so poor but also so smart and able to change the world if only they give us money. That’s what the script is for, it just makes it a bit nicer.” Right, that’s what Jay had told you. But why were you here when you had signed up to be a waitress? It was what you had wished for, but it made no sense whatsoever.

Registering your still confused expression, the girl went on, “They’re also gonna give us nice outfits and make us look more presentable. But not too much, you know, cause a thousand dollar gown wouldn’t really fit with the scholarship kid aesthetic.” You laughed with her. You had to admit the whole situation was a bit ridiculous, but if it could help you out, you would take it. You had needed to take out a loan when you started studying, and the enormous debt you would be in as soon as you stepped out of college already stressed you out.

You learned your script, which was actually just more like detailed examples of the things you should say and what direction your conversations with the guests should take, until somebody called out your name, telling you it was time to get you ready. You were led to another room which was full of clothing racks holding fancy dresses and suits. Your immediate thought was that the clothes in this one room were probably worth more than your entire house.

You could only admire the room for a few moments before a stylist threw a dress in your arms and practically pushed you into a dressing room. You took a good look at black dress before putting it on. It wasn’t overly fancy; the girl you had talked to was right, it wouldn’t make sense for you to look like you were the richest person there. With its modest cleavage and mid-thigh length, it was what you assumed to be formal enough for this type of event, and surprisingly fit you like a glove. It made you look put-together and accentuated your features in the subtlest way.

When you walked out of the dressing room, the stylist eyed you up and down, adjusting the dress here and there, then stepped back and mumbled absent-mindedly, as if thinking out loud, “Wow, he does have good taste.”

You didn’t have the time to ask her what she meant as she had already turned away, looking for jewelry to finish off your outfit. The earrings, necklace and ring she gave you weren’t huge 20 carat diamonds, but you’d never worn such delicate jewelry before, you were almost too scared to move with them on you in fear of breaking them. The stylist, however, didn’t seem too fussed, and as soon as she was done, said, “Well, that’s all for me. Off you go to hair and makeup now!”

Hair and makeup? You were going to get your hair and makeup done by professionals? You felt like a celebrity. Your whole life, your mom had cut your hair, and you bought your makeup at the drugstore.

While they didn’t make you look like a Hunger Games Capitol citizen, when they were done with you, the reflection that looked back at you in the mirror was uncanny. You were still you, there was no doubt about that, but you looked like a perfect version of yourself, which only makeup expertly applied could create. Although they’d never seen you before, the makeup artist had managed to accentuate or make disappear lines you had never noticed on your face before, and the hair stylist had done your hair in a simple but very flattering manner, letting it cascade naturally down your shoulders.

The stylists let you admire yourself for a few moments, knowing you probably weren’t used to such pampering, but soon ushered you out to the ballroom; the fundraiser was just about to start, and you needed to be there for the beginning of it. You were made to sit at a table with the other students at the front, close to the stage. An organizer came to see you and explained how the evening was going to go down. Most of the evening would be spent standing, chatting to the guests and persuading them to donate, except when the main course was served. There was no fixed seating chart, so you could go with whomever invited you to sit with them. All in all, your goal was to be as likable as possible, and get guests to understand why scholarships were important without sounding desperate, just like the script indicated.

Tapping your foot nervously, you watched as more people trickled in, each looking richer than the previous. Soon enough, the whole room was seated, and a man you recognized as Jay’s dad arrived on the stage, welcomed by polite applause. You listened intently to his welcome speech, and you could see Jay’s presence and charisma in him; every word of his seemed to be thought out and to have purpose. He did a spectacular job at kicking off the fundraiser, and you were clapping enthusiastically when he was done, not expecting what he was about to do.

With an extended hand, he pointed at you and the five students you were sitting with. “Of course, this wouldn’t be possible without these six brilliant students whom we have the honor of welcoming tonight. Would you all come up on stage with me?” he asked warmly, although you knew it wasn’t really a question. You all looked at each other bemusedly, but you didn’t have much of a choice, so you all got up and walked up the stairs to the stage.

You hadn’t realized how many people were attending until you were standing right in front of them. The bright spots lighting the stage made it hard to distinguish anyone’s face in the crowd, which only made your position more intimidating to you. Thankfully, you didn’t have to introduce yourself; Jay’s dad did it for you, and after a few minutes, you were free to walk off the stage and start mingling with the guests. Whew.

As soon as the six of you stepped off the stage, guests started approaching you, engaging you in conversation right away. You were a bit taken aback, but remembering you needed to be perfect tonight, you put on the most genuine smile you could muster. Them coming to you was better than having to chase after them.

An hour and a half passed, and you had been engrossed in so many conversations that you hadn’t noticed so much time had already gone. The only time your attention had been pulled out was when Keeho came to your group, offering you toasts of caviar and bubbly champagne, and discreetly (or at least as discreetly as Keeho could be, which wasn’t very) gave you a wide-eyed look, which you returned. You had no idea why you weren’t working like him either.

When somebody announced the main course would soon be served, a lot of guests went to sit down, so you were now stuck with the most pretentious man you had ever talked to. All the other guests, no matter how rich or famous or successful they were, had managed to stay somewhat humble and not flaunt how much higher they were in society than you, but it seemed that it was all this man knew how to do. You knew you needed to stay polite even in front of scum like him, but it was hard giving him your undivided attention when he was going on and on about basic economic principles you had learned in your first year of college. Your eyes started drifting around the room, until they fell on a certain someone.

Lee Heeseung was here. Of course he was; his parents, although they were rivals to the Park family, were still huge names in your country’s economy, and they couldn’t not be here tonight. Heeseung’s presence wasn’t required, but you imagined it couldn’t hurt his image to be seen by many adults at a gathering like this one. He was standing by the bar, talking to a girl who was clearly trying to flirt with him, but he didn’t seem to be into her. You hadn’t meant to stare, but his eyes soon met yours. You immediately felt heat rise to your cheeks. He didn’t break eye contact, even when he replied to whatever the girl was saying. His eyes started drifting down from your face to your body, as if he was undressing you with his gaze. You opened your mouth and let out a small gasp at the sheer indecency of the way he was looking at you. The sound you made made you snap out of your daze, and you turned your attention back to the man in front of you, who hadn’t even noticed you weren’t listening to him anymore, so enthralled he was by his own conversation.

You excused yourself, not wanting to be in Heeseung’s sight anymore. You weren’t sure what to make of the interaction - you loved the idea of Heeseung paying so much attention to you, but there was something about the setting and the fact that he was talking with another girl the whole time which made you a bit uncomfortable. Disheveled, you sat down at the nearest table, not paying much attention to who was there.

“Everything alright, miss Y/N?”

That voice was too familiar. Of course, you just had to sit next to Jay’s dad, a.k.a. one of the richest CEOs in the country, a.k.a. the man behind this fundraiser. You changed your expression from distressed to spirited, not wanting him to think you weren’t handling tonight well. Before you could say anything to reassure him, he added, “Not easy, is it, entertaining so many people? I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

Relief immediately washed over you. You looked down and said, “It hasn’t been too bad, just depends on the person you’re talking to.”

He chuckled. “I thought I saw you talking to CEO Jung. Or rather, CEO Jung talking at you. Sorry about him, he’s just the kind of person you have to learn to deal with.”

You continued talking to Mr Park, and he even invited you to stay at his table when the main course was served. He was surprisingly easy to converse with; he intently listened to you, even though he probably met infinitely more interesting people than you every day, and bounced off of your words naturally. You wondered how such an easy-going man could give birth to an argumentative boy like Jay.

You suddenly wondered where Jay was. You hadn’t seen him all evening, and he wasn’t sitting at his dad’s table either. You assumed he’d be busy with other people, but you couldn’t help being curious about his whereabouts. Not wanting to look around the room searching for him and appear disinterested in his dad, you just asked him directly if he knew where his son was.

Mr Park quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Oh, you know my son?”

“Yes, we’ve had a lot of classes together since freshman year,” you explained.

He seemed deep in thought for a second, until he started slowly nodding his head as if he’d just figured something out. “Of course, you’re Y/N. I knew that name was familiar.”

Why would your name be familiar to Jay’s dad? “Oh, did Jay mention me or some-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Mr Park said, “Ah, there he is,” gaze directed behind your shoulder. And indeed, as you turned around, you saw Jay coming towards your table.

“Dad, mind if I steal Y/N for a second?”

“She’s all yours,” he replied, sending a wink his son’s way. You looked at Jay and he seemed just as confused about his dad’s words as you. But then his eyes found yours and he motioned for you to get up and follow him with a tilt of his head.

“It was really nice talking to you, Mr Park, thank you so much for your time.”

“Of course. It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough,” he said with a knowing smile.

You didn’t even try figuring out what he meant, and just walked with Jay as he took you to a quieter area of the ballroom. Most people had finished eating and had stood up again, so you’d needed to weave through them, and Jay put a hand on your lower back to guide you better. You ignored the warmth that spread on your skin where he touched you, blaming it on the glasses of champagne you’d had.

When you’d reached a spot where you could talk easily, he turned towards you with a smirk. “I can’t believe you’re already charming your way up to my dad. You’re definitely ambitious, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes but then remembered where you were and thought it might be best to not give in to Jay’s taunts here, so you kept your voice low when you replied. “I didn’t even do it on purpose. I just sat there, and he happened to already be at the table.”

His smirk only grew wider. “Right.” Then he stepped back a bit, and took a good look at you. Unlike Heeseung’s gaze earlier, the way Jay looked at you in that moment, like you were the only thing worth looking at in this beautiful ballroom, made butterflies erupt in your stomach. God, you really had had too much champagne. “I knew that dress would look good on you.”

You should’ve been flustered by the compliment, but you were too confused by Jay’s words: how could he have known about this? Why did he make it sound like he had chosen the dress? The stylist’s words from earlier suddenly pop up in your mind: “he does have good taste.” There was also the fact that you had applied to work as a waitress tonight but ended up as one of the scholarship students. Slowly, things started piecing together in your mind, and you looked up at the well-dressed, smirking boy in front of you in disbelief.

“Jay. Did you do this?”

“Do what?” he said, an innocent tone to his voice, but a mischievous look in his eyes.

Your eyes widened and you lightly slapped his arm. “You did! I- You- Ugh. Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes. You were beyond grateful, but your ego stopped you from being too showy about it.

He smiled at you, and you ignored how much you loved it. “It was no big deal. Just had to change your name from the waitering group to the student reps. Took me two seconds,” he said, following your gaze down, bashfully admitting to helping you out.

“Why’d you do it?”

Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and the world should know about it, was his immediate thought. But of course, he’d never say that out loud, so he opted for, “I just felt bad for you, really. I know you like to think of us as rivals, so I thought the least I could do was to put us on equal footing tonight.”

Although you had a feeling he wasn’t telling you everything, you weren’t going to press any further. You chatted for a bit longer, the both of you enjoying a relaxed conversation after hours on being on your best behavior, and your ability of talking normally to Jay and not wanting to claw his eyes out surprised you, not to mention the fact that you were… enjoying yourself.

“Anyway, I’m doing the closing speech soon. I’m gonna be awesome, so look closely, yeah?” You knew he wanted to look cool, but you thought he sounded like an excited kid who was about to put on a show for his family. How cute, you thought, and immediately chased that thought away from your brain. That damn champagne must’ve been laced with something.

You both went back into the crowd, and quickly your name was called out by someone you had talked to earlier who wanted to introduce you to someone else. You quickly waved goodbye at Jay, a smile on your face. If anybody had seen him, they would’ve noticed how his cheeks fired up and how he waved excitedly back at you.

And indeed, he had been seen.

His dad had been talking with one of his business partners, but tried to keep some of his attention on you and Jay. He couldn’t help but be curious as to why his son, who had previously never expressed any romantic interest in anyone, was suddenly making sure you attended the fundraiser as a student rep and not a waitress, and why he’d even gone the extra mile and chosen your dress for you. He hadn’t missed the way his son’s face lit up when he was talking to you, and how his gaze lingered on you as you walked away. But he also hadn’t missed how you’d followed Jay without hesitation, and how relaxed you’d looked talking to him. He thought the both of you acted as if it was just you two in a room full to the brim with people. When his wife joined him at the table, he’d told her about their son’s unusual behavior, and she said that she had noticed him looking around as if searching for someone a few times during the evening. They exchanged a knowing smile.

Heeseung had also noticed Jay leading you away from the crowd, and had intently watched your interaction, not even trying to make the girl he was talking to think he was still paying attention to her. He knew you had a crush on him; you couldn’t make it any more obvious. But he also knew how comfortable, how yourself you were around Jay; he’d seen the two of you banter around campus, always arguing about something, whether it was the new law that was being put into place or whether pineapple belongs on pizza or not. Heeseung wasn’t stupid, he’d seen enough rom-coms to know that the girl always ended up with the friend she joked around with and not the hot popular guy that made her feel nervous.

Jay and him had been rivals since he could remember, and not rivals like you and Jay, but proper rivals, who actually had to fight for something. Well, technically, it was their fathers who were competing as CEOs of some of the top firms in the country, but since they were bound to take their place at some point, it had felt like their competition as well. Nothing was off-limits when it came to their rivalry, and you were most definitely not an exception, not to Heeseung. He couldn’t stand seeing Jay have something he didn’t. At that moment, he made up his mind.

Heeseung had to have you.

But before that, Jay needed to give his closing speech. As soon as he’d stepped on the stage, the chatter started to quiet down, and everyone turned their attention to him. Much like you earlier, he hadn’t realized how bright the lights were when standing onstage. He could only see over a hundred people staring right at him, and his confident demeanor from moments ago crumbled at his feet. He scanned the crowd for your face, desperately needing something, or rather someone, to anchor him. When his eyes finally found yours, he felt strength regaining his body. His mother followed his gaze and found you looking right at her son, sending a reassuring smile and thumbs-up his way.

Jay’s speech went very smoothly, and everybody congratulated him for it as they left the room.

—

Back home after a stressful but rewarding evening, all Jay wanted to do was take a shower and pass out in bed. But his parents had other plans.

“So…” started his mother, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So?” Jay asked, already fearing whatever his mom was about to say.

“Y/N’s a nice girl,” she simply stated, hoping Jay’s reaction would give her more to go on.

And oh boy did it. He immediately started blushing and stuttering at the sudden mention of your name. He knew you’d spoken with his father at the fundraiser, but he hadn’t thought his mom would bring you up.

“Y-Y/N? Yeah, I guess. But what about her?” he said, looking away and trying to sound uninterested, but blatantly failing.

His parents exchanged a look. “C’mon, son,” his dad picked up, “you don’t need to hide something like that from us. We’re very happy that you’ve found a nice girlfriend like Y/N.”

A nice… girlfriend? Had Jay heard that correctly? His parents thought you two were… dating?

As he stared at them wide-eyed and mouth agape, they just chuckled softly at him. “It’s okay, Jay, really. She made a dazzling impression on all of the guests tonight, and on us. She’s exactly the kind of person you should be dating, so don’t worry about us getting in your way of anything. We approve of your relationship.”

Jay started laughing in disbelief, and his parents just took it as a sign of his relief. If only they knew. “Right,” he said between chuckles, “thanks, guys.”

Why he didn’t deny what his parents were saying was beyond him. A part of him didn’t want to disappoint them by telling them the truth - his mother had always urged him to get a girlfriend, saying he wouldn’t have the time for dating later on in his career, that he should enjoy his college years as much as he could. Another part of him loved the idea of dating you, and it hurt him too much to shatter that thought.

So he just nodded along, saying he was glad they liked you.

“We really did,” said his father. “In fact, you should bring her over for dinner sometime this week. It’d be nice getting to know her in a less formal setting, don’t you think? Ask her what she likes, I’ll ask the chef to cook it specially for her.”

“S-sure,” Jay said, already panicking - he’d either have to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t come to dinner, or with ways to convince you to be his pretend-girlfriend for a night. If he actually did ask you, he’d have to be very careful about it, otherwise it’d end up with you trying to pull his hair out.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

—

At 10:43 a.m. the next day, you were waiting for Jay in front of the library. Right when you were about to turn your bedside lamp off, you’d received a text from him, asking to meet. Apparently, there was something he needed to tell you, and whatever it was, you were absolutely dreading it. Jay always had a lot of things to say, but he’d never felt the need before to warn you in advance that he needed to tell you something. Those kinds of messages were never very pleasant, and even less so when they came from Park Jongseong. Rereading the messages, you really couldn’t figure out what was so important that required you to take a break from your weekly Saturday morning study sessions.

00:44 archnemesis: Hey Y/N

00:44 archnemesis: Are you still up?

00:44 you: do NOT fuckboy text me jongseong

00:44 archnemesis: Sorry

00:45 you: go away im trying to sleep

00:45 archnemesis: Not trying hard enough obviously

00:45 you: shut up

00:45 you: what do u want

00:45 archnemesis: I need to tell you something.

00:45 archnemesis: Can we meet up tomorrow morning?

00:46 you: wtf

00:46 you: what is it ???

00:47 you: cant u just tell me now??

00:49 you: jay ???

00:49 archnemesis: Um.

00:49 archnemesis: I’ll tell you tomorrow!

00:49 archnemesis: :D

0:49 archnemesis: library 10:45?

0:50 you: ughhhhh

00:50 you: yeah whatever

00:50 you: this better be worth it istg

00:51 archnemesis: Good night Y/N <3

00:51 you: EWWWW

You’d stayed awake for a while after that, trying to figure out whatever it was he needed to tell you, but the only thing you were sure about was that it had something to do with the fundraiser, since he’d texted you after it. Had he finally realized how superior in every aspect you were to him and would finally bow down to you? That seemed pretty unlikely. Did one of the guests there really like you and had spontaneously decided to pay for your studies and offer you an internship at their company? Were they impressed by your intellect and wanted you to become their kids’ private tutor? Possible. Or even better, maybe it was Jay’s parents whose attention you had particularly caught, and they wanted to reward you in some way. Maybe they thought you were amazing and that you’d be a perfect girlfriend for their son, and Jay, ever the daddy’s boy, would now shower you with gifts and attention in order to capture your heart.

Ha, as if, you thought, laughing to yourself. It was a lot less funny when Jay told you about the little misunderstanding.

You were sitting at the library café with Jay, who’d wanted to postpone delivering the news as much as possible and had bribed you with the promise of free hot coffee. Well, free for you, at least. Not that a coffee would create much of a dent in his bank account. After five minutes of chit-chatting, you were getting annoyed with him and didn’t understand why he was being so uncharacteristically awkward and asked him to cut straight to the chase. When he told you his parents thought you were his girlfriend and wanted to have you over for dinner this week, it took all you had to not spit the coffee right in his face. Not only was it ridiculous, it was practically exactly what you had imagined.

“Are you kidding me, Jongseong? I can barely pretend to be your friend, how the hell am I gonna pretend to be your girlfriend?”

Your words were like bullets piercing right through his body, but he had to ignore the pain, telling himself you were just shocked by the sudden news. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just- I panicked, and I didn’t know how to tell them the truth. They seemed so happy,” he said, head hung low. You knew he was genuinely sorry, because he’d almost never actually said those words to you, so he had to mean them. The only other time you could think of was when he’d dropped his water bottle all over your laptop. The next day, he’d offered you a brand new MacBook with all of his notes already downloaded on it.

You sighed, unsure what to make of the whole situation. At any other time, your first reaction would’ve been to flip Jay off and tell him to get out of his own mess, but you felt like you owed him after what he’d done for you at the fundraiser. Even though he made it seem like no big deal, it still meant a lot to you that you’d gotten to spend the evening making yourself known to the guests and not serving them smoked salmon toasts, and that was all thanks to him.

“I guess I do owe you one, Jongseong.” His head snapped up and he looked at you with the most hopeful eyes you’d ever seen. “But before you get carried away,” you warned, “this is a one-time thing. Find an excuse, say we broke up or whatever. Fake dating is like, the most predictable trope ever,” you said, remembering all the heated discussions you’d had on the topic with Sieun.

But Jay paid no attention to that last sentence - he leapt up from his chair and came over to your side, engulfing you in a surprisingly warm hug. He muttered thank you over and over into your hair before realizing hugging wasn’t something you guys did and he might have just made things way worse. To his relief, when he took a sudden step back, you didn’t look upset at all, but rather amused at his sudden burst of excitement.

He returned to his seat and cleared his throat. “Right. Thanks a lot, Y/N. My dad likes to have family dinners on Thursdays, so it’ll probably be then. I’ll, uh, I’ll take you there, so don’t worry about that.”

You chuckled at him. “You know I’ll never let you live this down, right?”

He sighed and shook his head, saying, “I know. But I’d rather have that than disappoint my parents, to be honest.” He smiled at you as if to take away some of the gravity of what he’d just said. You thought it wasn’t something he wanted to delve into, so you took a sip of your coffee and brought up the topic of this week’s tutorial for your cinema class, knowing it was a surefire way to start an argument with him.

—

On Monday at lunch, you were sitting at the cafeteria with your friends. Keeho was telling them how fancy you’d looked and how you’d managed to charm everyone.

“I feel like I should be jealous, but what you did looked a lot more tiring than what I did, to be honest. When you’re a waiter at that kind of event, those rich people don’t even register your presence, so they just say the wildest shit in front of you. Apparently, CEO Cha is having an affair with CEO Liu’s wife, whoever they are.”

You chuckled at your friend, feeling even more thankful towards Jay that you didn’t have to spend your evening like that. The four of you continued chatting, which mainly consisted of complaining about how you already had so much work only two weeks into the semester. You were intently listening to the niche topic Sieun was learning about in her Bio class when someone dropped a bag on the table right next to your tray. The letters ‘Gucci’ were written on it in the iconic but simple font.

Your gaze went from the bag to the person holding it, and of course, it was none other than Park Jongseong himself.

“Hey, Y/N. Hey, guys,” he said, giving your friends a simple nod. They all replied with a confused hi. You were just staring at Jay, wondering what he was doing here.

“I got you something for Thursday night,” he explained. “Gotta wow the parents, you know?” he added with a wink.

“Uh-huh” was your very clever reply. You could feel your friends’ gaze ping-ponging between you and Jay.

Jay looked around the table, an awkward silence spreading between everyone. He cleared his throat. “Well, let me know if it fits or not. See you around.” And with that, he was gone as quickly as he’d arrived. You turned back to your friends, and their confused faces echoed your own.

“What are you waiting for?” Sunoo nudged your arm. “Take a look inside!”

You took the bag on your lap and pulled out a magnificent green satin dress that was a lot more elegant than the one you’d worn at the fundraiser. You guessed Jay really did want for you to make a good impression on his parents. It seemed to be quite long and to not show too much skin, which you appreciated. You could only hope it would look as good on you as it did seeing it like this.

As soon as you’d taken it out, you’d heard your friends gasp.

“Oh.”

“My.”

“God,” they’d said in turn, obviously mesmerized by the gift.

You handed the dress to Sieun, who clearly wanted to admire it up close, and looked into the bag in case there was anything else. You were maybe hoping for a pair of earrings or a necklace, but it was wishful thinking. Instead, you found a sticky note signed Jay, which read, Wear the accessories and shoes from last week. I can’t spoil you too much just yet.

You hadn’t even noticed Sunoo was reading the note over your shoulder until he put his hand over yours in what seemed to be a confidential manner and said, with all the seriousness in the world, “Y/N, be honest with us. Is Park Jay your sugar daddy?”

Sieun and Keeho’s head snapped up and they stared at you expectantly. “What the hell? Why is that the first place your mind goes to?” you said, almost laughing in disbelief.

Bewildered, Sunoo replied, “How can it not? The wink, the Gucci gift, the note? It screams sugar daddy!”

“Wait - didn’t he say something about his parents? I’m not an expert, but I don’t think meeting the folks is sugar daddy etiquette,” Keeho mused, taking this way too seriously.

You took a deep breath. There was no point in not telling your friends what had happened, so you explained the events of the past few days to them, from Jay changing your role at the fundraiser, to his parents thinking you were dating, to dinner with them on Thursday.

When you were done bringing them up to date, they all looked at you with incredulous looks. After a moment, Sieun broke the silence: “Y/N, you’ve become a real walking rom-com. I’m so proud of you.”

Keeho was tearing his bread apart, throwing chunks into his mouth. “I don’t know. Fake dating is kinda boring, to be honest.” Sieun let out an offended gasp and Sunoo nodded in agreement.

“We’re not gonna be fake dating. Just for this one evening, I’ll pretend to be his girlfriend, and it’ll be over as quickly as it started,” you said, hoping that’d be the end of this conversation, but your friends wouldn’t back down so easily.

“Y/N, that’s literally the whole concept of fake dating. You’ll think it’s only that one time, and before you know it, you’ll be married with three children, and it won’t be fake anymore,” Sieun warned, but you just shook your head and laughed, stealing Keeho’s other piece of bread from his tray.

“You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.”

“And you’ll be blowing something else soon…” Sunoo muttered, just loud enough for your table to hear. You let out an offended gasp but Keeho and Sieun just burst into laughter.

“Sunoo!”

“What?!” he replied, imitating your outraged tone but sporting an amused smile. “Your whole rivalry thing is too cute, I can’t take it seriously. You won’t admit it to yourself, but you clearly like Jay a lot more than you do Heeseung,” he said with a shrug, as if it was all so obvious. You tried to find support in Keeho or Sieun’s eyes, but they avoided your gaze, guilty expressions on their faces.

“Guys, come on, you can’t be serious. Jongseong and I are just- we’re just-” Rivals? Friends? Soon-to-be fake boyfriend and girlfriend? Who knew anymore. You took a deep breath. “It’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say,” Sunoo sighed, but to your relief that was the end of the conversation. Your friends quickly moved on to another topic, but their words gnawed at the back of your mind like rabid bunnies. Either they were completely insane, or you had gravely misjudged Jay this whole time.

—

When Jay rang your doorbell at 7:00 p.m. sharp on Thursday, you were just done applying a thin layer of gloss on your lips. That morning, he’d texted you to ask for your address and tell you to be ready at seven. You took a good look at yourself in the mirror and headed down the stairs to get the door, but your mother had beat you to it.

Not used to keeping secrets from her, you’d told her everything. She’d looked at you curiously the whole time, a slight smirk on her face as if she knew something you didn’t. And sure enough, when you were finished talking, she’d said, “I knew there was something between you and that Jay boy. You talk way too much about him.”

Not her too, you thought, but you didn’t need to encourage her delusions by telling her your friends thought the same, so you’d tried to defend yourself. “Mom! I just told you, I’m only pretending, I’m not actually his girlfriend. If I did like him, you’d be the first to know.”

She looked at you with a knowing smile that moms loved to wear. “I do know. You’re the one who doesn’t.” You’d dismissed her with a roll of your eyes. Everybody around me’s going crazy, you thought.

When she opened the door, it revealed a very smartly-dressed Jay (but when was he not?), bouquet in hand. He immediately handed them to her and introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Kim. I’m-”

“Jay, I know. Y/N’s mentioned you.”

“Has she?” he asked, a genuine grin blooming on his lips. You ignored how the glint of surprise and - hopefulness? - in his eyes tug at your heartstrings.

“Just once or twice, and never positively,” you interrupted, appearing next to your mom. Taking your appearance in, she nodded at you approvingly, but Jay just stood there, mouth agape, seemingly transfixed by you. He only snapped out of his daze when you called out his name.

“You ready to go?” you asked, and hoped that the heat that had traveled to your face was hidden by your makeup.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Let’s go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs Kim.”

“You too, Jay. Thanks for the flowers. I hope Y/N will be a good fake girlfriend to you tonight.”

“Oh, you told her?” Jay asked you, looking somewhat disappointed.

“I wasn’t gonna lie to my mom about my boyfriend,” you said, nudging him out of the door. “Bye, mom!”

You ignored her reply (“Don’t have too much fun!”) and walked speedily towards Jay’s car, which looked far too expensive for this neighborhood. As you got closer, he took a few quick steps in front of you and opened the passenger door for you. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to let on how the gesture made your stomach flip. “No need to go that far, Jongseong. Don’t try to woo me.”

He hurried to the driver’s seat, looked at you with a grin and said, “Might as well get into character now.” His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, and you started feeling self-conscious when his eyes moved up and down over your body. When you coughed, he suddenly turned his attention back to the front and gulped, then started the car. He looked taken aback himself, as if he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I really do have good fashion taste.”

Although he was technically complimenting himself, you caught yourself hoping he also meant you looked good in the dress he’d chosen for you. “You could have included shoes and jewelry, you know. I wouldn’t have taken it the wrong way,” you said with a playful tone.

“Sounds like you’re already getting used to a lavish lifestyle,” he retorted, making you smile sheepishly.

“I’m just not used to dressing up nicely like this. It’s nice,” you said truthfully. You weren’t sure where the honesty was coming from, but something about being in a car with Jay made you feel like you could say anything - it felt safe, like whatever you could tell him would stay between the two of you. What happens in Jay’s car, stays in Jay’s car, or something along those lines.

Jay wanted to tell you that if you gave him a chance, you could do this anytime you wanted. He’d buy you all the dresses you could dream of, and give you a taste of his world, which he so often found bland and shallow, but that he was sure you could light up in the blink of an eye. But he couldn’t say that, so instead, he said, “Yeah, I noticed. I don’t think anything you’ve ever done or said offended me more than that one time you showed up to class wearing a ‘where the hell have you been, loca?’ t-shirt.”

“Shut up, that shirt is amazing!”

“Maybe, but the movie it’s quoting is an absolute trashfire of a film, if you can even call it that,” he claimed, knowing it’d get a reaction out of you.

“Don’t talk shit about Twilight, Jongseong, or I’ll mess tonight up and your parents will think you’re dating a psycho.”

He turned to you with a smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”

You’d always known Jay was a confident man. It’s obvious in the way he holds his head high whenever he enters a room, or how he manages to stay calm and collected during an argument with someone who’s practically shouting at him (you, usually). And while he was always self-assured during your debates, seeing him act like this to practically flirt - could you describe it like that? - with you rendered you speechless. And you hated being speechless.

So you crossed your arms with a hmph and looked out the window, turning away so he couldn’t catch your fluttered state.

You finally arrived at his parents’ house after a half-an-hour drive (“You live so far away, do you seriously drive to campus and back everyday?” “Yes, Jay, not all of us can live in a three-bedroom flat in the middle of the city”). As soon as you walked in, his mother greeted you with a warm hug, telling you how pretty you looked, and his father clasped your hand tightly, the lines around his eyes showing as he smiled at you. By the looks of it, you wouldn’t need to do much for them to like you.

You could tell Mr Park was a businessman by the way he didn’t beat around the bush when talking to you. As soon as you’d sat down in the (or at least one of the) living rooms for drinks and small appetizers, he asked, “So, Y/N, tell us about yourself.”

Having anticipated such a question, you started, “Well, I’m an Econ major-”

“Yes, but I know there’s more to you than just academics,” Jay’s dad interrupted with a well-intentioned smile.

You looked at Jay, hoping he could help you out. He just looked back at you as if he was waiting for your answer as much as his dad was. “Right. Um. Where should I begin?” you said with an awkward chuckle. You felt a bit put on the spot, but there was only genuine curiosity in all three pairs of eyes looking at you, so you felt comfortable enough to go on.

“I’ve always lived here. Or, technically, in the suburbs. Since I spend most of my time either studying, working at my part-time job or commuting back and forth between school and home, I don’t have much time for hobbies. I just use my free time to spend time with my friends or my family.” You looked at the three people in front of you, wondering if you’d said enough. After a beat, you added, “Sorry, was that too depressing?”

Mr and Mrs Park chuckled at you, and he instantly reassured you, saying, “No, no, not at all. Tell us about your family.”

You were expecting that one too. “Well, it’s just my mother, my little sister and me. But she’s at boarding school right now, so I only see her during the holidays.”

“Boarding school - that’s pretty impressive,” commented Jay’s mom.

You smiled fondly at the thought of your little sister. “Yeah, she’s a smart cookie. Got there on a scholarship and everything. She likes it most of the time but she does complain about how the people there are all-”

You stopped yourself before your tongue could slip up and potentially offend Jay’s parents. But to your surprise, they smiled and, in turn, said, “Rich and self-centered?”

“Little kids who think they run the place when they’re only fourteen?”

A chuckle escaped you, not expecting them to share that kind of opinion with you and your sister. An amused tone in your voice, you nodded your head and said, “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, I know all about those. Your boyfriend here might have been born into wealth,” he started, and you tried not to choke on your drink at Jay being referred to as your boyfriend, “but my father’s company, the one I’m in charge of now, only started being successful when I was in high school. My dad worked his way up from the ground, so he and I both know what it’s like to not be well-off. I’ve tried to not turn Jay into one of those rich kids who think they’ll rule the world just cause they have money, and… well, I hope I did a good job.”

You looked at Jay with a grin. He looked right back at you as if to say, I dare you to tell my dad he’s wrong. If this was anyone else in any other situation, you definitely would’ve told them Jay is one of the most privileged people you’ve ever met. You thought for another second - yes, Jay was definitely privileged, but there was a sort of innocence about him. He’d never used his wealth to make you feel inferior to him or anything of the sort. When he’d bought you that MacBook, it was to apologize, not to show off. It was as normal for him to have his meals cooked and laundry washed as it was for you to sigh in defeat every time the price of milk went up, even by just a cent or two.

So, still looking at him, you replied, “Yeah, I’d say you did a pretty good job.”

The way Jay’s eyes looked in that moment, fond and soft, made you want to never look away. But you didn’t want to make it awkward, so you turned back to his parents, who were watching the two of you with affection. Maybe Jay and you were a little bit too good at this whole fake-dating thing.

A maid came into the room to announce dinner was ready, and you all headed to the dining room. When plates of your favorite food arrived, you looked at Jay, astonishment written all over your face.

“How did you know?”

“You might’ve mentioned it here and there…” he sheepishly answered, knowing fully well that he’d gotten the information from a tweet you’d made eight months ago.

As conversation picked up again and you exchanged with his parents over a bunch of different topics, from childhood memories to that weird new Netflix show that’s strangely addicting, you tried to ignore Jay’s stare that was burning into the side of your face.

“What about your dad?” he suddenly asked, catching everybody in the room off guard. Noticing your confused look, he continued, “Earlier. You said it was just you, your sister and your mom. What about your dad?”

His mom furrowed her eyebrows at him and said, “Jongseong, leave her be. If she hasn’t told you, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it.”

You took a deep breath. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind talking about it, I just don’t usually bring it up cause it makes people think of me differently? Like they start to pity me just because my dad’s out of the picture, when, really, it hasn’t affected me that much. I’ve never known him, my mom has always raised the two of us on her own.” You looked down at your hands. You hadn’t even realized you’d been fiddling your fingers. “It just seems too cliché, the poor girl who lives in the suburbs and is on a scholarship and doesn’t have a dad and redeems herself by having good grades. Which is why I like to usually keep it to myself.”

You looked back up at them and were relieved when you found understanding and not pity in their eyes. If there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, was for them to think you were leeching off of Jay or trying to get his money. Even though you weren’t actually dating, it would’ve still damaged your ego if they had seen you that way.

A few hours later, dessert was finished, and you could tell everyone was starting to tire (or had had too many glasses of wine) by the way the conversation was starting to make less and less sense. Jay was looking at the three of you in amusement, stone cold sober, as he knew he’d have to drive you home later.

“Well, Y/N, son, we’re not going to hold you hostage here any longer. You still have classes tomorrow,” Jay’s dad said.

His parents led the two of you to the door as you gathered your coat and bag. “It was so lovely getting to know you more, Y/N. You truly are a sweet girl, and we can tell you’re making our Jay very happy,” his mother said, pulling you into a hug.

“You better treat her well, son,” said Mr Park. Jay looked over at you, and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite explain; all you knew was that it sent shivers straight down your spine. “I will,” he simply said, but with so much honesty, it made you wonder if he actually did mean it.

“Oh, and Y/N, there’s an event this Saturday. It won’t be as fun as ours last week, but I’m sure you could find a way to enjoy it. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt for people to see what a nice, hardworking girlfriend Jay has,” his father said, beaming down at you.

Jay and you exchanged a look, and the panic at the sudden invitation made you say, “Yes, I’d love to attend!” instead of finding a palatable excuse.

You exchanged final goodbyes with his parents, and as soon as you were in the car, you let out a hearty groan.

“My God, what’s wrong with me? Why did I have to say yes to that?”

Jay started the car. “I’m surprised too. If you had given me three seconds, I could’ve come up with an excuse for you. But I mean, I’m not gonna complain.”

You turned your head towards him, a pout on your face. “What do you mean?”

Jay kept his eyes straight on the road as he answered. “Well, like he said, it won’t be a bad look for me to have you on my arm. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re charming and intelligent, and,” he glanced quickly towards you, “I have good fashion taste, so you don’t look like an absolute fool in that department either.”

You snorted at his coyness. “Just say I’m pretty and move on, Jongseong.”

“Is that what I said, though?” he asked, a devilish grin on his face.

You gasped dramatically, trying to appear as offended as possible. “Your dad literally just told you to treat me well, I’ll have you know.”

“They really fell for it, didn’t they?,” he said with a sigh. “I have to say, you did a pretty good job tonight. Almost got me wondering if you’re not used to being people’s fake date for the night.”

“Yeah, it’s my side job actually.” You smiled at each other, and when the eye contact lasted a second too long, you both quickly turned your head to the road. “So, what’s Saturday night about?” you asked, wanting to break the silence.

“Oh, it’s probably just another boring event where the grown-ups go to socialize and flaunt their wealth or their children’s prowess.”

“Wow, look at you being all critical. I thought you lived and breathed that kind of stuff.”

“I like it when it has a purpose. Like a fundraiser, or a company opening, or whatever. But this is just another excuse for people to show themselves off. You don’t have to come, you know. I can probably find a way out for you.”

Once again, without thinking, you immediately answered, “I’ll come.”

Jay glanced at you quickly, an eyebrow raised. “Wh- Really?”

You shrugged, trying to stay casual. “I mean, I don’t have anything on Saturdays. Might as well keep you company. Turns out you’re not always insufferable.” You’d lowered your voice for that last sentence, only half-heartedly admitting it. But of course, Jay wasn’t going to let you go with it.

“Huh? What was that? I don’t think I heard you,” he teased, leaning slightly towards you.

You gently nudged his shoulder, saying, “Shut up, you heard me. Just because I tolerate you slightly more doesn’t mean you’ve stopped being my number one rival.”

You’d never seen Jay smile that much. You sometimes caught glimpses of it when he was with his friends, but with you, he usually had an arrogant smirk, so seeing his genuine grin made your heart swell with joy you couldn’t explain.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t assume anything else.”

He dropped you off at your house and made sure you were inside before driving away. When you told your mom about your night, she watched you with a smile, that knowing glint in her eyes still there. When she tried hinting at you having feelings for the boy, you’d gotten off your chair and shouted good night! before heading to bed.

—

Saturday quickly rolled around the corner, and you were in your room with Sieun, trying on the two dresses Jay had given you to pick from. “They’re both good, I just wanted to see if you’d choose the best one,” he’d said. This time, he’d also included a new pair of shoes and a set of matching jewelry. Your friends kept teasing you about him being your sugar daddy (“you can’t deny it anymore, Y/N”), and you had to admit you were starting to feel a bit like that, even though you weren’t really giving him any sugar. He was just spoiling you like it was his day job.

He was right; both dresses were gorgeous. They were both black, but one of them was body-fitting with an open back, while the other cinched in at the waist and had puffy sleeves. You couldn’t deny that you looked good in the first one; Sieun had let out the loudest gap when she’d seen you in it. But you both agreed that it was on the riskier side, and it was probably more appropriate to wear the second dress.

You were laying on your bed, talking about this and that. It’d been a while since it was just the two of you, and it was nice catching up with her.

“So…” she’d started, an impish tone to her voice. You knew immediately what she wanted to talk about and let out a loud groan, but that didn’t deter her. “Wanna tell me about Jay?”

It was obvious what she was trying to get at, but you weren’t going to give her what she wanted. “Well, he’s rich and has a huge house. Not surprising. He drives well. He’s not half as annoying when he’s in front of his parents. Probably not trying to be as much of a smartass. He seems to think he’s all that. He-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” she said, laughing. “What I mean is, has anything changed between you two? Have you finally come to your senses about the boy?”

You thought about it for a second. Something had definitely shifted in your perception of Jay. You felt it in the pit of your stomach every time he smiled at you. But it was scary: this wasn’t you and Jay. You and Jay argued, and riled each other up, and got on each other’s nerves. You didn’t crack jokes so you’d hear the other laugh, or agree without thinking when they asked you for a favor. It was confusing, so instead of voicing out those concerns, you lied. “No. Not really.”

But your friend wasn’t buying it. “C’mon. The guy buys you dresses, gets your mom flowers, drives you to his parents’ for dinner. I know it’s not for realsies, and you’ve got integrity or whatever, but you can’t completely be indifferent to it, Y/N. Even you’ve got to admit Jay’s hot.”

You laughed at your friend’s reasoning. “Fine. Maybe he’s not just someone to beat anymore. I guess that’s what fake dating will do to you. But that doesn’t mean I have to say he’s hot.”

She turned to fully face you. “Not even when he’s all dressed up? Or when he hands you a bag that has contents worth thousands?”

Her eyes were telling you that you had to agree with her. You tried to suppress a smile, still not wanting to admit anything. Just because you and Jay had been rivals since you’d met didn’t mean you went blind every time you saw him. Of course, you knew how attractive he was. But you had conditioned yourself to never see him that way, so letting on that you didn’t think he was completely repulsive felt like betraying yourself.

Sieun laughed at your reaction. “C’mon! Say it!”

You pursed your lips together, suppressing a smile, and shook your head. The tilt to Sieun’s head and the devilish glint in her eyes told you your friend was up to no good - and indeed, a second later, she was on you, tickling your sides and asking you to “say it! Say it!”

“Fine, fine!” you said between breathless giggles. She finally relented. “I think Jay’s hot.”

“Do you, now?”

The sudden male voice made you and Sieun shriek. You sat up in your bed and found its owner - sure enough, Jay was standing in your doorway, leaning against the wall and clearly liking what he’d just heard. Your mother soon appeared behind him, explaining that he’d knocked and she let him in, telling him to go up to your room. She mouthed sorry and quickly scurried down the hall.

“I’m not sure why it took you so long, but I’m glad you’ve finally opened your eyes, Y/N.”

Sieun’s eyes were going back and forth between the two of you, until she stood up and said, “Well, I guess that’s my cue to go. Have fun you two, and tell me all about it on Monday, Y/N!”

Before you could protest, she had already left your room, sending Jay a wink as she passed by him. It was silent for a few seconds as you sat there in embarrassment, cursing the Gods for your awful timing. He walked in and sat down at the edge of your bed, comfortable and keeping his distance at once. The sentence there’s something perfect about him flashed in your mind but you were quick to brush it away. “So, which dress did you choose?”

“The one with the puffy sleeves,” you replied, unable to look him in the eye.

He tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Wrong choice.” You rolled your eyes. “Show me?”

This made you look at him. His smile was taunting, but his eyes were soft. With the way he looked right now, you thought he could ask you anything and you’d say yes. You hadn’t imagined that him sitting on your bed would make you stammer like a schoolgirl in front of her teacher crush, but here you were, almost rendered speechless by the mere sight of him. The fact that he was manspreading and leaning back on his hands, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his trousers stretching against his thighs, wasn’t particularly helping. More shyly than you intended, you told him to turn around and close his eyes, then quickly put the dress on. You were thankful for its lack of zipper - you don’t know if you could have handled Jay zipping your dress up for you.

“Okay. You can turn around now.”

This was already the third time Jay was seeing you all dressed up, but his gaze managed to make the heat rise to your cheeks every time. The corners of his lips rose slightly. “Wrong choice,” he repeated, “but you still look really good, Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading on your face as you coyly replied, tugging at the hem of your dress, “Why thank you, Jay.”

“You gonna be ready to go soon?” he asked, checking the time on his phone.

“Yeah, just need to put on jewelry and shoes, and I’m good. Sieun did my makeup for me earlier.” You put on the thin silver earrings and ring Jay had gotten for you and checked your reflection in the mirror. You put a hand to your collarbone, thinking the area looked a bit empty without a necklace.

“Should I wear the necklace from last time? It looks a bit weird without anything right now,” you asked Jay, keeping your gaze on the mirror.

“Um, I’ve got something, actually. I forgot to give it to you with the rest of the things.” He fished a small box out of his bag and got up to stand behind you. He took out the necklace and put it around your neck, asking you to hold your hair up. You complied, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His hands slightly brushed the back of your neck as he locked the necklace, and you had to keep yourself from visibly shivering at his touch. This was infinitely worse (or better) than him zipping up your dress.

He absent-mindedly let his hands slide along your shoulders until they came to a halt on the sides of your arms. His eyes met yours in the mirror, and with a smile, he said, “All done.”

—

Nothing, not even the fundraiser of the previous week, could’ve prepared you for how lavish this party was. Whereas the fundraiser has been in an 18th century ballroom, in the old part of your city where most of the architecture was traditional, this event was taking place in the newer, richer part of the city where skyscrapers constituted most of the area. You were at the top of one of those skyscrapers, and from the huge windows that made up two of the four walls of the spacious room, you could see the whole city laid out right in front of you, as if it was yours to take. If having money meant seeing this everyday, you thought you could understand why rich people got addicted to it.

As Jay and his dad had warned, the atmosphere that evening was very different from that of the fundraiser. Instead of gathering for a cause, this just felt like an excuse to get drunk and eat tiny, tiny appetizers that probably cost a hundred dollars each, all while looking rich and fashionable. The room was quite dark, only the moon outside and the small LED lamps on every table bringing light in. You’d never seen such an impressive collection of alcohol (to be fair, you’d only ever been to frat parties where most of the alcohol was cheap beer and dodgy brands of vodka), and you were really going to have to restrain yourself from trying out every cocktail the barman offered. Although most of the people there were in their forties to sixties, and the younger people were only there thanks to their parents, the dress code wasn’t as formal as you’d have imagined it to be, and Jay’s assessment of your dress as the “wrong choice” now made more sense. The women wore dresses that showed quite some skin, or didn’t leave much to the imagination, and the men had left their suit blazer behind and hadn’t buttoned their shirt all the way up.

It was all a bit mind-boggling at first, but you soon got used to it, and Jay’s warm hand on your lower back reassured you. At first, the two of you walked around together, talking to different people, and hoping you were making your “relationship” clear to them. You were glad Heeseung or anyone that would’ve recognized you wasn’t there: you could handle pretending to be Jay’s girlfriend in front of his parents and other random people, but in front of the whole school, that would’ve been a whole other level of fake dating.

Watching people slowly slip into a drunk state as the hours passed was just about the only source of entertainment you got that night. The two cocktails you’d tried out were way too strong to your liking, so you didn’t feel like drinking anymore, and Jay couldn’t because he was driving you home later on. When most guests were beyond the point of being able to hold a coherent conversation, you and Jay took it as your cue to leave. You found his parents among the crowd to tell them goodbye, and you could tell they weren’t completely sober by the way they kept telling you you were amazing and made you promise three times you’d attend more of these events. Guess you couldn’t back out now.

And indeed, as weeks passed, it became a normal thing for you to accompany Jay every time he had an event to attend. Your wardrobe was going to burst from all the outfits he kept buying you, but you weren’t going to complain. Jake and Sunghoon, as sons of CEOs of smaller but still important companies, were sometimes present. They usually ditched these types of events, and you couldn’t blame them, but they still made the effort from time to time. You were already friends with Jake before; the two of you had lived in the same dorm building and kept finding each other in the study room late at night, then started to bond over insolvable questions and watered-down instant coffee. Sunghoon, on the other hand, you hadn’t had many chances to talk to, and you couldn’t lie, judging by his appearance alone, you had first thought he was even more self-centered than Jay. But after talking to him for just a minute, you found that that cold facade quickly broke down and he was easy to talk to and very funny - in his own way, but funny nonetheless.

Heeseung wasn’t always at these events, but whenever he was, you couldn’t miss him. He always garnered attention, especially from the female guests, but he always kept his eyes trained on you. In all your three years of liking him, he’d barely spoken a word to you, so why the sudden interest? Usually, you’d have craved his attention; but for some reason, at those parties, you felt indifferent towards it. You hated how he was always with a different girl and never approached you, yet wasn’t trying to keep his glances towards you discreet at all. Jay noticed it too, and a couple times you’d even had to stop him from going up to Heeseung and asking him what the hell he wanted.

Since you didn’t have money to bedazzle people with, you always tried to make a good impression with your conversation and intellect, but some nights you just weren’t up to it and spent most of the time laughing with Jake and Sunghoon, as Jay was often too busy talking to someone else. Tonight was one of those nights; half an hour into the party, an important businessman approached Jay and started talking to him, completely ignoring you. He always ended up apologizing later on, but you didn’t reproach him for it - you knew he had a reputation to uphold and that these events were important for him. Plus, it wasn’t like he owed you anything - you weren’t his girlfriend after all, even if the line between real and fake had started to blur more and more often as of late.

Feeling out of place, you looked around the room and found Jake and Sunghoon at the bar, six shots lined up in front of them. You had never gotten drunk at any of these events, not wanting to risk embarrassing Jay or his parents, but tonight seemed like it was gonna be the most boring one as of yet. So you gestured to Jay that you were leaving and joined the two boys.

“Room for one more?” you asked when you reached them. They turned around and smiled at you; this was clearly not their first drink of the night.

“Of course!” replied Jake excitedly, beaming at you. You could tell he already had a few drinks in his system. Without further ado, you each took a shot glass in your hand, clinked them and brought them to your lips, dipping your heads back. The burning of the alcohol as it glided down your throat was both repulsive and intoxicating, and you were soon reaching for the second one. The boys cheered you on and quickly mirrored you.

Although you’d promised Jay you’d always be on your best behavior, as the evening went on, you never refused a drink that the servers approached you with or the boys offered you. Without Jay to make snide remarks about the snouty guests with, the evening was a lot less fun, so you couldn’t help but down every glass of alcohol that came near you; since Jake and Sunghoon were doing the exact same thing, none of you were realizing exactly how drunk you three were getting. At least, you weren’t going around the room, mumbling drunkenly to everyone; you were staying at a table in the corner, mumbling drunkenly to each other.

Jay was observing you from afar, trying not to worry and stay focus on the conversation (no matter how mind-numbing) he was having; but when he saw you almost fall out of your chair and burst into laughter right away instead of regaining your senses, he thought it was time to come check on you. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for having left you alone for most of the night, and he knew Jake and Sunghoon never stayed sober through these events, but in his defense, he didn’t think any of you would go that far.

He took a seat in the chair next to you, leaning close to you so you could hear him over the music and chatter of the guests. He asked you how you felt, and you gave him a lopsided smile in response. “Me? I feel great. This place is awesome once you’ve had-” you hiccuped, “a few drinks.”

Jay sighed but had an affectionate look on his face. “Right. I think it’s time to get you home.” He saw you open your mouth in what was probably going to be protest, so before you could say anything, he added, “And don’t even argue with me. I’m taking you home, let me just go let my parents know first. You two figure it out on your own,” he told Jake and Sunghoon, who had already started to doze off on their chairs.

He got up and headed towards his parents, and you watched him walk away with a pout on your face. Your vision was blurry from the alcohol and you could barely make out any faces, but you waved in what you hoped was the general direction of his parents.

“She just keeps getting better, doesn’t she? Even when she’s drunk, she doesn’t embarrass herself,” said Mr Park when Jay announced your departure. “I’m glad you have her, son.” Jay was glad for the dimness of the room, which meant his dad wouldn’t notice how hard he was blushing. Even if it was all an act, thanks to his parents, he had gotten closer to you than he thought he ever would.

He bid goodbye to his parents and a few other guests, including Jake’s and Sunghoon’s parents, making them aware of their kids’ state, then went back to get you. The trek to the car wasn’t the easiest as tiredness had started to hit you and your body grew heavier against your will. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the back of the passenger seat and Jay couldn’t help but think you were the cutest thing in the world. He then realized how far gone he must be to think you still looked precious in your current state.

The car ride was silent, your quiet snores and the soft chatter of the radio the only sounds filling up the space. Jay thought you were dead asleep as you didn’t wake up when he fished your keys out of your bag and carried you bridal style out of the car and to the door, but really, you just didn’t wanna have to walk. When he got to the door, though, you thought it would’ve been unfair to make him struggle that much, so you opened your eyes and quietly told him to let you on the ground. He walked you to your room, tucked you in bed and even got a wet wipe to take your makeup off for you.

As he gently swiped it over your eyes, trying not to hurt you, your drunken state got the best of you and you asked, voice barely over a whisper, “Why are you doing all this?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, and you thought he might not have heard you, until he replied, “Because I want to.” You were too tired to press the matter any further, although you desperately wanted to. You’d have to wait until you were sober - if you’d have the courage to bring the subject up then.

When he was done and got up from your bed, the sudden absence of his presence around you made you panic, so you called out, “Jay?”

“Yeah?” he said, and you hoped you weren’t imagining how expectant he’d sounded.

“Will you stay?”

Your eyes were too heavy to even open, so you couldn’t see his reaction. After a second that felt like an eternity, he answered, “Of course.”

You heard him steal a pillow and lay down on the carpeted floor next to your bed. Maybe it was the remnants of alcohol in your system, or the fact that spending so much time together, especially as his girlfriend - fake girlfriend - had made you see him in a new light, or the fact that you felt like your whole world would collapse if you didn’t have him next to you at that moment, or all three of those things. All you knew was that something beyond your control made you whisper “come here” in the quiet of your room, and, when he got under the covers with you but kept his distance, made you wrap your arms around him and cling onto his shirt as if he would disappear.

You slept like a baby that night, but Jay barely got a wink of sleep, the sound of his own heart beating uncontrollably keeping him awake.

—

You woke up that Sunday morning with a ringing headache, an upset stomach and a thirst you knew you wouldn’t be able to quench no matter how much water you drank. Your bed was empty, and the only thing that reminded you Jay sleeping overnight wasn’t a fever dream was his scent lingering on your pillow. The pang in your heart at his absence was hard to ignore - you were definitely curious about what it’d be like to wake up in Jay’s arms.

The busy chatter coming from the kitchen forced you out of your bed, although you would’ve rather stayed there all day. As soon as you opened your bedroom door, the smell of pancakes and sizzling bacon attacked your nose, and you hurried downstairs.

The sight of Jay cooking breakfast for you and your mother alone was enough to cure your hangover. You sneakily watched from the staircase as he expertly flipped pancakes and cooked eggs at the same time, all while holding a conversation with your mom. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee before taking a seat next to your mom, trying to but failing to suppress a smile. “I didn’t know you were also a housewife, Jongseong,” you said, voice still groggy with sleep.

“I thought it was the least I could do after making you attend such an awful event,” he answered, and you had the suspicion he was only being nice because your mom was there, even though she knew you two weren’t actually dating.

He kept that energy all throughout breakfast, making your mom laugh, and you watched him play his charm on her, glad you didn’t need to participate in the conversation. Any mom would be lucky to have him as a step-son, you caught yourself thinking.

Your mother hugged him when he left, and turned to you with a smile as soon as she’d closed the door. “Y/N, there’s no way in hell you don’t wanna date that boy. Hell, if he wasn’t half my age, I probably would.”

You took a cold water bottle from the fridge and said, “We’re not talking about this,” then headed up the stairs to your room. You ignored her calling after you and laid down in bed. Last night had given you a lot to think about.

—

You never got as drunk as that night again, not wanting to repeat that situation. Your relationship with Jay had already changed so much in so little time, but now, there was a lingering tension that always kept you on edge, and it wasn’t due to the constant arguing. It was due to the way you couldn’t get his scent on your sheets out of your head and the way he couldn’t forget how you had held onto him that night. You two had always said whatever was on your mind to each other, especially if it was something that would annoy the other, but now unspoken words constantly lingered between the two of you.

Your friends saw right through you; even though you tried to play it cool, it was painfully obvious that Jay was much more than just competition to you now. You hadn’t told them about the time he’d slept over and made you breakfast, knowing you’d never hear the end of it; but they didn’t need to know about that to see something had changed. It was clear in the way you talked about him, which had gone from irritated to excited, or how you never mentioned Heeseung anymore. One time, you’d even said “dating Jay” instead of “fake-dating,” and Sunoo had immediately picked up on it.

“That-that’s what I meant!” you’d exclaimed defensively, but they’d all looked at you with teasing smiles.

Jay hadn’t been very discreet when he’d given you bags of designer clothes all over campus, like in the cafeteria, in a random hallway, or in a lecture hall, and given his immense popularity (you know, being handsome and rich and all that), a few rumors about you two dating were being spread around. But they hadn’t really blown up, since the both of you always denied them whenever someone asked you if they were true, because you didn’t need to keep the pretense at uni.

The pretense - because that’s all it was, of course. Play pretend. Fake dating, keyword fake. But everything with Jay felt too real - the laughter in his car on the way to and fro the events, the smiles you exchanged from across the room, his hand brushing against yours when you sit next to each other during lectures. It wasn’t enough to have his arm around your waist once or twice a week, and it drove you crazy that you had him in bed right next to you but that you’d let him go. You needed to have him close, and for it to be real.

It was a sunny March afternoon when you realized this. Your week was surprisingly unbusy - along with the preparation for your lectures and tutorials, you only had two small online quizzes to complete, and all your bigger deadlines were so far away that even you didn’t see the point in starting on them already. So, armed with your favorite book and plenty of snacks, you’d decided to head to the park next to campus and spend a relaxing afternoon in the sun. It went as planned for about an hour, when an all too familiar voice called out your name - a voice that used to make you sigh in annoyance and roll your eyes automatically, but that now made your heart skip a beat in nervousness, you realized with some alarm.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He sat down next to you on your picnic blanket, beaming at you like you were his good old friend he’d just run into. He had a professional-looking camera with him, something you’d never seen him carry around. You were so taken aback by his excitement at seeing you that no words formed in your mind, and you just raised your book and waved it stupidly.

Jay chuckled when he saw what you were reading. “Twilight, of course. And that’s the last one, isn’t it?” He shook his head in mock-disappointment at you. “I can’t believe you would put yourself through the torture of reading four of those books, Y/N.”

You just mumbled something about them being fun to read, turning your gaze back to the cover of the book you were holding. What the hell was wrong with you?! Usually, you’d be quick to shoot an answer back at Jay, either defending yourself or attacking him on one of his own weird preferences (you’ll never forget the day they had corn at the cafeteria and Jay had scarfed down at least five cobs in one sitting). But right now, Jay’s presence next to you turned your insides to liquid and rendered you unable to think properly. You hated it.

But then you noticed something on the book cover - “Jay, how do you know this is the last one?” From the corner of your eye, you saw Jay’s head snap up while you turned the book in your hands. “There’s no number on it.”

“O-oh,” he started, and judging from the growing blush on his face, you knew you’d caught him. This brought some of your usual confidence back to you. “Isn’t it common knowledge that Breaking Dawn is the last book in the series?”

You giggled at that. “Absolutely not.” His guilty expression only made you want to press further, and you added, “That’s something you’d only know if you’d watched all the movies and made the effort to remember the separate titles.”

He looked away, letting out a small hum as he found sudden interest in his camera. You were still smiling at him in disbelief. “Jongseong, have you seen all five Twilight movies?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and kept avoiding your gaze. “Pffft. No.”

“Jongseong.”

At the sound of his name, he abruptly turned his head in your direction, and his glare only made you smile even more. “You’ve actually seen all five movies, I can’t believe this,” you said, almost laughing. Jay’s eyes softened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He turned his attention back to his camera, but he was smiling down at it as he spoke this time.

“It’s just that you’ve mentioned them so often, I thought I should check at least the first one out. Turns out they’re pretty addictive,” he admitted sheepishly.

“So you watched them for me?” you asked, and your voice was more admirative than you’d had intended it to be - you wanted to tease him, not let him know that what he’d just said actually touched you.

“I watched them for… research purposes,” he conceded. Your eyes met. Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the intense smiling this conversation was bringing you, but you couldn’t help it. This time, you were the one to look away.

“Research purposes, of course.” A short silence ensued, the sort of silence you should’ve been used to with Jay by now but that always made you feel giddy - the sort that’s awkward in a lighthearted way, the sort where you’re repeating all the words that have just been said in your head and committing them to memory. The sort where you hope the other is feeling all the things you’re feeling.

You broke it first. “What about you, what are you doing here?”

Jay raised his head, looking like he’d just remembered he had come here for another purpose than just talking to you. “Right. I have a project for this elective I’m taking, so I need to film some stuff and I thought it’d be nice to do it here,” he explained, shrugging.

“Sounds cool,” you said, and you hoped he knew you actually meant it. He looked at you again, and he seemed surprised. “Tell me more,” you added, and from the way his features lit up, you could tell you had said the right thing. You positioned yourself more comfortably on the blanket as you listened to him.

“Oh, well, our professor’s a bit of a romantic so the project is all about finding beauty in the small things, the happiness around us, love…”

Your gazes locked the moment he said that word, but it only lasted a second. Jay was quick to clear his throat and go back to his explanation, but it took you a few more seconds until you could focus on his words again. When you snapped out of it, he was showing you some films he’d already taken. They were all very short, just three or four seconds long, but a peacefulness emitted from each of them. An encouraging message scribbled into a lecture hall table, a cat laying on a windowsill, enjoying the sun, an old couple walking slowly hand-in-hand, teenage girls celebrating a birthday at an ice cream parlor, the metro passing quickly through the frame as the sunset paints the sky orange in the background. All beautiful moments that make up life, but that you never take the time to fully appreciate.

“This… this is beautiful, Jay,” you breathe, mesmerized by what he’d manage to capture.

“Yeah? Not too cheesy?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Not at all. I think your professor will love this, you completely grasped the subject.”

He let out a shaky breath of relief, his smile getting wider. “Nice,” he said under his breath. Then he suddenly turned his head to look at you, an intensity in his gaze you hadn’t expected. “Would you mind if I took a video of you? Add you to the film?”

“W-what, like here? Right now?”

“Yeah,” Jay said, and when he smiled at you like that, who were you to say no?

“Okay, sure.” You tried to shrug, play it cool, but something about Jay looking at you through his lens and adding a video of you to all those beautiful ones he’d just shown you made your heartbeat speed dangerously.

“Great,” he beamed. “Just read your book. Pretend I’m not here,” he instructed. As if you could be anything less than hyper-aware of his presence, you thought.

Thankfully, the video was shot in just a few minutes as Jay searched for the best angle to take it from. Before you knew it, he was already back next to you, mirroring your position on the blanket as he laid on his stomach. You tried to ignore how his shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned on his forearms, showing you the video. You had to admit, it looked really nice - from this angle, the sun shone down on you perfectly, and you could see the wind blowing through the tree leaves in the background. It fit perfectly with the other videos.

“Beautiful,” Jay whispered, looking at the film with nothing but fondness in his eyes.

You didn’t linger on his words too long, just took the chance to tease him: “Are you complimenting me or your videography skills?”

The look in his eyes didn’t change as he turned his head and gazed down at you. “You, of course.”

A smirk tugged the corners of his lips up as he took in your flustered expression, your incoherent mumbles. “Whatever,” you mumbled when you regained the ability to speak.

Another comfortable silence settled between the two of you as Jay busied himself with his camera while you read the same paragraph over and over, unable to concentrate on the words. You desperately wanted to say something, but had no idea what, so you were grateful when Jay broke the silence.

“Just need to edit this all together on my laptop, and then I’m all done. Thanks for your help, Y/N.”

“I didn’t do anything, though,” you said with a small smile. His compliment from earlier was still ringing in your ears.

“But you did. I think that shot of you will end the film perfectly.”

Sure, Jay had gotten nicer and nicer to you as time passed - but today, he was really laying it on thick. He was making it hard to breathe properly. All you could do to save yourself was change the subject.

“So, this is for the Visual Studies part of your degree, right?”

For the second time today, Jay’s expression went from surprise to delight - you remembered, he thought. “It is, yeah,” he replied, with a wide grin he couldn’t control. He seemed to hesitate for a bit, as if deliberating whether he should say whatever it was he wanted to say or not. You were happy to see he opted for telling you. “If it was up to me, it’s the only thing I’d have done.”

You studied him for a bit. With just this simple sentence, you realized Jay’s life wasn’t as simple as you’d always imagined it to be. “But it’s not up to you, I’m guessing.”

He smiled sadly, and you had to resist the urge to take him in your arms. All these things you had been feeling for him, they weren’t supposed to be there, and you were getting really tired of fighting them back.

“It isn’t, no.” He turned over to lay on his back, and you imitated him, so that you were now both staring up at the sky. He sighed before speaking again. “My father isn’t a particularly conservative man, but he does like tradition. He wants to keep the company in the family, and as his only child, I’m the one the responsibility falls upon. He’s never even asked me if this was what I wanted to do, just assumed I’d be happy with it.”

In your three years of knowing Jay, you’d thought how unfair it was that he wouldn’t have to go through the hoops of job applications and job interviews. He already had a top position waiting for him as soon as he got out of college. But now you realized that he was completely trapped in the position - all of the decisions you’d taken academics- and career-wise had been your own, while Jay’s had been chosen for him in advance.

“I picked up photography as a hobby to get away from it all and ended up really falling in love with it. I have control over my camera even if I have zero control over anything else in my life,” he explained with a defeated chuckle.

You let your head fall to the side and looked at him. “I had no idea about any of this.”

Jay met your eyes and smiled. The sun was right behind you, so he had to shield his eyes from it to look at you. “Of course not. I never mentioned it.”

“I feel like I should’ve known, for some reason.”

His smile got wider. You looked away. “Why?”

“Just ‘cause. Maybe I would’ve gone easier on you if I knew you were also struggling.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.” He bumped your shoulder with his, making you let out a chuckle.

A beat passed before you spoke again. “Guess we both have a lot of pressure on our shoulders, huh? Even if they’re different kinds.”

“Guess we do.”

“Then we’re more similar than I’d thought,” you said, and looked at him again.

“Guess we are.”

A smile bloomed on your lips, and Jay’s eyes drifted down to it. That simple action made you panic, and you suddenly sat up. He didn’t have time to ask if everything’s alright, you were already throwing your stuff back in your bag and mumbling something about the time and having to go. You stood, and turned to Jay before scurrying off. “I’ll see you around.”

Jay chuckled, slightly confused, but let you go. It wasn’t until he left himself that he’d realized you’d left without your picnic blanket.

—

After that afternoon, you tried to pretend nothing happened, and that you hadn’t run away just because of Jay glancing down at your lips. You were already getting worked up over things you shouldn’t even be thinking about when it came to him - you didn’t need to have Jay kissing you on your mind.

Thankfully, Jay didn’t bother you about it, and you got back into your routine of arguing by class and pretending to be a couple by night. Everything was fine.

That is, until Mr Park happened.

You had waited all week, hell, all month for this: Jay’s dad was about to give a special talk for the School of Business on how to get a company started and efficiently run it, but most importantly, he would announce how to apply for a summer internship at his firm. You’d made sure to get there early so you could get a good seat. He noticed you when you walked in the amphitheater, and motioned to you to come see him.

“Y/N! Lovely to see you, thanks for coming,” he greeted, beaming down at you. It always surprised you just how similar his smile was to his son’s.

“Of course, Mr Park! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Come and see me after the talk, yeah? There’s something I want to tell you.”

God, what was it with Park father and son to announce things like that? Why not just say it straight away? You kept those thoughts to yourself and nodded, then sat down at a seat in the front.

You listened intently the whole time and took down rigorous notes. When it was over, you had to wait another twenty minutes as people asked him questions, until he finally announced that was all he had time for today. You headed down towards the stage, and complimented him on his talk. Most people in the room had started trickling out, but there were still a few students waiting at the doors, hoping to catch him before he left.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” he said with a chuckle, before taking a deep breath. “I realize now what I said earlier might have made you nervous, but don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Good. “I just wanted to thank you for being such a good girlfriend to Jay. I’ve always been proud of him, but I know he has a lot on his shoulders, so it’s nice to see that he has someone like you to rely on.”

You smiled at Mr Park, saying it was nothing, but you felt guilty. He truly believed in you and Jay, when the two of you were only pretending. Even though it didn’t always feel that way anymore.

“Oh, and for the internship, I’m sure you’ll understand that it wouldn’t look too good if I gave it to you. But don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you wherever you decide to apply.”

A second passed. Then another, and another, until your lack of answer was becoming weird, and you had to say something. “Oh. Right. Of course, I understand,” you replied, hoping the disappointment in your voice wasn’t too obvious. You exchanged a few more words until you said you needed to get back to studying.

As you turned around to exit the room, you noticed everybody who had been waiting for Mr Park was staring right at you, wide-eyed. You tried to ignore them and get to the doors, but a girl stopped you. “So the rumors are true, you really are dating Jay?”

You’d never seen her in your life and were a bit shocked that a stranger could demand information about your love life, but you nonetheless shook your head and started to say, “What? No.”

“Why are you lying? We just heard everything,” said another voice.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter anyway, just don’t lie.”

You turned your gaze away from the students to look behind you at Mr Park. Or more precisely, at the lecturer mic wrapped around his waist. From where you were, you could make out a tiny red light on the mic, signaling it was still on.

Crap.

—

As soon as you were outside, you called Jay. He picked up after a few rings, groaning, “What? I’m at the library.” Ah, there was the Jay you knew.

“I’ll be here in two, come outside.”

“But-”

“Right now,” you said sharply and hung up.

Jay had wanted to scold you for disturbing him like that, but as soon as he saw you, eyebrows furrowed and biting your lip nervously, worry overcame him. “Hey. You okay?” he asked gently, placing his hands on your forearms.

“Yeah. I’m fine, but, um, everybody knows. »

He looked at you questioningly, and when you wouldn’t explain further, he asked, “Knows what?”

“You. Me. That we’re dating. Well, they think we’re dating.”

“What? How do they know?”

“Your dad. We talked after his presentation, and he thanked me for being a good girlfriend, except his mic was on. So everybody heard. And you know how gossip travels here, so everybody’ll know by tonight,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

Jay thought for a while. “Well, who cares if they know? We don’t have to change the way we act with each other. That’d be more suspicious, if anything. We’ll just have to not deny it when people ask if we’re dating.”

Your frustration got the best of you and you scoffed, giving Jay a harsher look than you wanted to. His hands left your forearms. “How far is this gonna go, Jay?! How much longer do we have to-” You realized how loud your voice was, and switched to whisper-shouting instead of just shouting. “To pretend? I can let you parade me around those CEOs and whatnot, but I don’t wanna have to keep the charade up on campus, too.”

Jay’s law locked. He looked like you’d just punched him. But he didn’t say anything, so you dropped it. “Anyway, that’s not even the bad part. Your dad told me I wouldn’t get the internship. And it’s fine, I guess I can get one somewhere else. But I wasn’t expecting it, and I was really looking forward to working at your dad’s firm.”

Again, he was silent for a small while, until he muttered, “Right.”

You looked up at him, and he was avoiding your gaze. Why wasn’t he surprised, or angry? Why wasn’t he reacting?

“Did… did you know?” you asked, unable to keep your voice from shaking.

Nothing.

“Jay. Did you know?” you repeated, tone harsher, more impatient.

“Um. Yeah, I knew,” he mumbled. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye.

You shut your eyes for a few seconds, trying to grasp the situation. “Wh- you knew? And you didn’t say anything?”

“Sorry,” he said, eyes trained on his shoes.

“Sorry? That’s it?” You shook your head in disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh. “How long have you known?”

“Since the beginning, really. My dad’s not the type to do favors, and he wants to keep up that image. So if you’re my girlfriend, he wouldn’t give you the internship.”

You couldn’t say anything. Not getting the internship was one thing. You could get over it. But Jay knowing from the start and keeping it from you, that was what really hurt you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but you walked away before Jay could see just how much he’d upset you.

“Y/N!” he called after you. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks and turn around. The sight of you, teary eyes and staring at him with fury in your eyes, and knowing he was the reason behind it, made him indescribably angry at himself.

“Whatever it is you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it, Jongseong.” He tightened his grip on your wrist before you could snatch it away from him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know you wanted that internship. If I did-”

“If you did? Then what? You wouldn’t have asked me to be your pretend girlfriend? You would’ve let me have a chance at the internship?” You shook your head. “Of course not. So save it.”

You managed to get out of his grip and continued walking away, ignoring him as he called out your name again. When you were a few meters away, you turned around and said, venom only in your voice, “I hope you realize how selfish you are, Jay.”

That’s when his heart broke.

—

Jay had been right when he said people wouldn’t care about the two of you ‘dating.’ However, the people who did care, your friends, were more confused than anything: you had gone from bickering non stop, to denying couple rumors, to not talking to each other. It’d been a week since your argument with Jay, and you still didn’t want to hear him out. You didn’t want to have anything to do with him: you straight-up ignored him every time he tried to get you to talk to him, had blocked his number and shut down your friends and mom whenever they mentioned him.

You missed him; you missed his stupid arguments, and his stupid jokes, and his stupid face, and how it had started to feel like he genuinely cared for you. Or at least, that’s what he’d made you think. And he’d made you think it so well, that you thought you might have been starting to genuinely care for him as well. Which only made his betrayal a hundred times worse.

You’d decided to drown your sorrows in textbooks, and spent most of your time at the library. On Thursday, you were searching for the week’s essential reading in the Econ section, and as you took out the book in question, you saw a pair of eyes staring right at you. You tried not to shriek but you felt like your soul had left your body. You’d barely had time to gather your spirits when the culprit had come round to your side of the bookshelf, and of course, it was none other than Lee Heeseung. God, you thought, could that boy get any weirder?

“Trouble in paradise, or so I’ve heard?” he asked in lieu of a normal greeting. Whatever happened to hello?

“That’s none of your business, Heeseung,” you replied curtly, opening the book.

He tried not to be taken too aback by your attitude. He was used to stammering and blushing Y/N, not you-better-not-give-me-any-shit Y/N. He wouldn’t say he disliked the change.

“I’m not sure why you thought dating a guy like Jay was a good idea in the first place, anyway. You could do a lot better, you know,” he said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all. When you didn’t answer, he went on. “You know, we’ve missed you at the frat parties. I know you’ve been going to all those boring company events, but don’t you think it’d be more fun to let loose with us? Tomorrow night?”

This made you look up at him. He had that gaze again, the one you’d seen all those times, and you remembered why you’d liked him for so long. Something about his eyes, about the way he was waiting for you to say yes, made you reply, “I’ll think about it.” You returned his smile and headed back to your seat. You did think going to his party would be fun, and you definitely needed some of that right now.

Plus, you had the perfect dress for the occasion.

—

So here you were, standing in front of the frat house’s door, Sieun, Sunoo and Keeho at your sides, in the tight black dress Jay had given you but you hadn’t chosen for that one event. They were all used to this kind of party, but you’d only been a few times, and although they’d all hyped you up for it, you suddenly felt yourself deflate.

“Guys, what if I just embarrass myself like last time? I don’t think I could live with that-”

“Nope! We’re not having this conversation again!” Sieun exclaimed, already pushing you inside. “You look hot as fuck, and tonight you’re gonna have so much fun and forget all about Jay.”

Keeho and Sunoo gave her a stern look. “Sorry,” she quickly apologized, but you barely heard her over the bass of the booming music. It was 11 p.m. and the party was well into motion. People were drunkenly dancing on the designated dance floor, and you tried to not conjure up memories of that last party. There were people everywhere you looked: on the staircase, in the backyard, in the kitchen.

Your friends and you headed first to the mini-bar and shot down some vodka for liquid courage. As you started chatting, trying to see who was there, Heeseung approached you.

“Y/N! You came! And you look really good,” he said, taking in your figure. He pulled you into a hug which you returned warmly. The vodka was already having its effects on you, apparently.

“Can I get you guys a drink?” he asked you and Sieun. Keeho and Sunoo had already disappeared to the dance floor.

“Sure,” you said, smiling up at Heeseung.

Sieun looked between the two of you, and said, “Actually, I’ll join the others. Come dance with us soon, Y/N!” And like that, she was gone, giving you no time to protest. She thought she was being slick, that one.

You and Heeseung chuckled. He got you a red cup and you watched him as he expertly poured different juices and liquors in it. “So, what made you decide to come?” he asked, handing you your drink. You took a sip of it and nodded approvingly.

“I just needed a good party. To let loose, like you said. Plus, who am I to deny an invitation from the great Lee Heeseung?”

Neither of you was sure where all the confidence was coming from. As soon as you’d said that, you looked down at your cup and smiled shyly. Heeseung looked at you curiously, but he couldn’t help but grin as well. You chatted a bit more, drinking one, two, three cups of the heavenly concoction Heeseung made for you.

“Wanna dance?” he suddenly offered, extending his hand. Right at that moment, you saw Jay enter the house with Jake and Sunghoon. You saw him look around the room until his eyes zeroed in on you and the boy in front of you. Perfect, you thought. You smiled at Heeseung and took his hand, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Somebody had dimmed down the lights and Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd was playing loudly, creating a sensual atmosphere in the whole room. Your body started swaying to the music, and you were thankful for the alcohol in your system, ridding your mind of any negative or self-conscious thought; you were just enjoying yourself, exactly like you’d wanted to do tonight.

You were getting lost in the music, when a pair of hands on the sides of your waist brought you back to reality. Heeseung got so close to you, you could feel his lips on your ear as they moved to whisper, “Having fun, princess?”

You nodded fervently, leaning your head back on his shoulder, closing whatever gap there was between your two bodies. His hands traveled from your waist to your hips and you could feel his broad chest against your back as you two moved to the rhythm of the music. From where you were, you had a view of the living room. Jay was sitting there, a girl sitting so close she might as well have been on his lap, but he was staring right at you. You knew never hooked up with random girls at parties, so he had to be doing this to get a reaction out of you. You hated that it worked, that it only made the fire in you burn harder - so as a response, you started grinding your ass against Heeseung.

When the girl actually sat on Jay’s lap, you couldn’t look anymore, so you turned around and put your arms around Heeseung’s neck and faced him. His eyes had glossed over and he was looking at you with a hunger you’d never seen before. Well, that wasn’t true - you’d seen him look at other girls that way, and you always knew what happened after that, but you chased the thought out of your mind, forgetting all about that promise you’d made to yourself of never becoming another one of his drunk fucks. Now that his attention was on you and you only, you felt yourself wanting more. His hands traveled further down your body as he grabbed at your ass, bringing your hips closer to his. He bent down to press wet kisses up your neck until he reached your ear.

“Wanna take this upstairs?” he asked. It sent shivers down your spine, but you couldn’t tell whether they were good shivers or not. You willed away your hesitation, smiling at him as he took your hand once again, this time leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom. As you walked up the stairs, you scanned the room and sure enough, found Jay sitting on a couch, staring right at you. You thought the beer can in his hand might explode, he was holding it so tight. Feeling you slow down, Heeseung tugged at your hand, and you detached your gaze from Jay’s, trying to drown out the feeling of guilt that was creeping up inside you.

As soon as he’d closed the door behind you, Heeseung wasted no time in pressing you up against the wall and kissing you hungrily. You hadn’t been kissed many times before, and surely not with such energy, but you were sure it was supposed to feel better. Heeseung was in no measure a bad kisser, he seemed to have the technique down to a T and kept a perfect rhythm. But you felt no fireworks, no butterflies, no light-headedness you’d always hoped would come with a good kiss. There was just no passion to it.

After a few minutes of making out, when you were starting to hope he’d get on with it, he said, breath irregular, “What would Jay say if he saw this, huh? Probably hates the idea of me kissing his precious girlfriend, don’t you think?”

The mention of Jay hit you like a ton of bricks. “Wh-what?” you stammered, not letting Heeseung kiss you when he leaned in again.

“Jay? Your boyfriend?” he repeated, looking at you bemusedly.

You chuckled once. Then twice. Then you just started laughing. “Oh, Jay? We’re not actually dating,” you revealed, your filter completely gone because of all the alcohol.

“What?” Heeseung took a sudden step back from you. His confused gaze had turned cold.

“We’re not dating, I said. It’s all fake, it was to make his parents happy,” you explained, yourself confused by Heeseung’s sudden attitude change.

It was his turn to laugh. “Wow. That’s impressive. You managed to fool me.” His smile dropped. “Now get the fuck out.”

“Excuse me?” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“You heard me. Get the fuck out. There’s no point in fucking you if you’re not Jay’s girlfriend. You’re just a random loser.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, until you started laughing. It only seemed to make him angry. “What the fuck are you laughing about? I told you to get out.”

You sighed amusedly as if Heeseung was just joking around. “I just think it’s funny that you won’t fuck me because I’m not actually Jay’s girlfriend, when that’s not stopped you from getting with a different girl every single weekend. Whore,” you said, adding that last part in a whisper. You didn’t actually care that Heeseung slept around, not anymore, at least, but you wanted to get a reaction from him after the way he’d treated you.

But perhaps you went too far, because Heeseung’s eyes turned even angrier, and he pushed one of your shoulders harshly, making you almost hit the wall. “I’ll tell you one last time. Get out, you pathetic little bitch.”

Just at that moment, the door burst open, revealing a very angry Jay.

“What the fuck did you just call her?” he growled, heading straight for Heeseung and grabbing him by the collar. The other boy didn’t seem fazed, a smile back on his face, as if this whole situation was funny.

“Aw, Jongseong is mad I’m not being nice to his little fake girlfriend?” You guessed Jay must’ve looked confused, because Heeseung continued, “Yeah, she told me. To be fair, I should’ve known even you wouldn’t date a fucking beggar like her.”

You weren’t quick enough to stop Jay from bringing his fist up to Heeseung’s nose. You swore you heard something crack. But as soon as you saw him get ready for another punch, you ran to him and held his arm, shouting, “He’s not worth it, Jay!” and God, you almost wanted him to punch you because of how cliché that had sounded, but you truly thought Heeseung wasn’t worth losing any energy over.

Your voice seemed to make Jay snap out of his fury, and he looked at you, worry written all over his face. However, that only lasted a second, as his expression then shifted to something you’d never seen on his face before, and he grabbed your wrist, leading you out of the room. The commotion had gathered some attention, and you left the house under a bunch of people’s curious looks and chatter.

What was it with men grabbing you and leading you wherever tonight? You were tired of it, so as soon as you’d reached the front yard, you got your wrist out of his grasp, and demanded to know where he thought he was taking you. He grabbed your wrist again, and said, “To my place. We need to talk.”

The tone in his voice told you it was better not to test him, so you got in his car. Jay was always a safe driver, but this time, he sped through the whole city, even burning some red lights, reaching his apartment on the other side of town in a matter of minutes. You quickly texted your friends your whereabouts so they wouldn’t have to worry. The whole car ride had been silent but you could feel him fuming next to you, and you had no idea what to expect when you entered his apartment.

His place was exactly like you’d imagined it: modern, spacious, and way more organized that any other university student’s flat would be, but also had a lot of personal touches. It was very Jay, and if it hadn’t been for the tension between the two of you, you’d have immediately felt at ease there.

Jay walked through the dark apartment to the kitchen, where he turned on a single light. You followed him, unsure what else to do. He leaned against his hands on the island counter, head hung low, and you went to stand on the other side of the counter, waiting for his next move. When his head snapped up and he peered straight at you, you could barely decipher the look in his eyes, but thought it contained a mixture of jealousy, anger, and… hunger. He’d never looked at you that way before, and his gaze itself created a ball in the pit of your stomach. You told yourself it really wasn’t the moment, but you couldn’t help but feel desperately attracted to him.

“What the fuck were you doing with Heeseung?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You scoffed. “What the fuck were you doing with that random girl?”

“I wanted to make you jealous.” He hadn’t hesitated a second before answering, and his confidence destabilized you. You’d guessed that had been his plan, but hearing him say it made you feel weirdly shy. “Now answer me. What the fuck were you doing with Heeseung?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact anymore, so you looked down at the counter, and replied, “I um, I was drunk, and I… I wanted to make you jealous too, I guess.” You looked back up at him, wanting to gauge his reaction. He was now wearing a smug look, like he’d won something over you. He slowly walked over to your side of the counter, and when he reached you, he put his hands on the counter on each side of you, making you lean back against it. You gulped at the way he towered over you

“And why did you want to make me jealous?” He was so close to you now that when he uttered those words, voice barely over a whisper, you felt his breath fan over your face. As much as you tried to keep eye contact, your gaze fell down to his lips, and you saw him smirk. He caught your chin between his index finger and thumb, nudging your head up. “Eyes up here, doll.”

Your eyes met his again. He was looking at you so intently, you thought your knees might buckle under you. He cocked an eyebrow, patiently waiting for your reply. “Because I…”

It was so obvious, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to say it, or even let yourself think it, before. But it needed to be put out there, once and for all. There was no point in fighting it anymore. “Because I like you, Jongseong.”

To your surprise, his smirk turned into a cheeky grin. It made some of the tension dissipate, but not enough for you to breathe properly again. “I like you too, Y/N.” You sighed out of relief at his words and mirrored his smile.

“Can I kiss you?” he said, the thumb that had been holding your chin caressing your bottom lip.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you breathed, and he leaned in, your lips meeting delicately. It stayed that way for a few minutes, until the pent-up feelings that had been threatening to come out finally did, and hunger and passion took over the kiss. Jay was kissing you like a man starved, and all you could do was return everything he was giving you. This was nothing like you’d imagined it; it was infinitely better. Talk about fireworks, or butterflies, or light-headedness, you felt like you were on another plane of existence, like a kiss that felt this good and was this freeing wasn’t humanly possible.

Your hands slipped under his shirt and the sudden contact of your cold hands against his warm skin made him shiver. You were glad to see you had as much effect on him as he had on you. Never breaking the kiss, he led you to his bedroom and sat down on his bed, gesturing for you to straddle his lap. Your dress rode up your calves a little bit, and he used this opportunity to pull it further up until it bundled up around your hips, leaving your lower half almost naked. You could feel how hard he was getting underneath your clothed core, and as the kiss grew needier, you started grinding against him, getting the both of you off. When you heard him groan against your lips, something snapped in you, and you wanted to hear that sound over and over, so you doubled down on your actions.

His hands, which had been resting on your ass, came up to the nape of your neck, and he grabbed you by the hair, exposing your neck to him. He started pressing down eager kisses along your jawline, throat, and collarbones. When he found a spot in the crook of your neck you particularly liked, he started attacking it like crazy, sucking at the skin and turning you into a moaning mess. One of his hands came to cup your breast and he was very glad to find you were not wearing a bra. Your nipple had hardened through the fabric, and he started playing with it. That, as well the feeling of him in your neck and against your core, was overwhelming, and you felt like you were about to pass out because of how good it all felt. You didn’t know what to do with your hands so you alternated between running them over his arms and tugging at his hair.

As your lips met again, teeth almost clashing because of the intensity, you started unbuttoning his shirt. When it was off, you couldn’t not stare at him. You’d had an idea already, but you still couldn’t believe how toned his arms, chest and abs were. You thought to yourself, God, he’s so hot, and hadn’t realized you’d actually said it out loud until he jokingly said, “Yeah?”, looking up at you with the biggest smile. His hands ran over your calves, your thighs and your ass, sending shivers along the way, and he said, “You’re not too bad yourself, doll.” He kissed you with much more gentleness than before. “In fact, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You kissed him so he wouldn’t see the blush spreading on your face. He put his hand on your lower back, and guided you down on the bed until you were laying on your back, him hovering over you. He pulled your dress all the way up, helping you get rid of it. You were now left in only panties in front of him, and you would’ve imagined that to be intimidating, but his gaze was truly making you feel like a goddess. Nonetheless, you didn’t want to be the only one naked, so you tucked your fingers under his trousers’ waistband, gesturing for him to take them off. He chuckled but immediately obliged, getting rid of them in a matter of seconds. You had an even better view of his now fully-hard cock, and its size made you gulp. Your mind was quickly off of that, though, as he started trailing kisses all the way down to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand came up to the other. Your back arched at the sensation, and you only wanted more, more, more. Your fingers tugged at his hair and you breathed out his name between moans.

After a few minutes, he traveled further down your body, until he was face to face with your dripping core. He hooked his fingers under your panties, looking up at you and asking you if this was okay. You nodded impatiently and he chuckled at your reaction. How could you be so cute even in this moment? He took your panties off excruciatingly slowly. You wanted to take your time, but you also wanted him where you needed him the most.

You did feel a bit shy when he stared at your sex with the utmost wonder, musing to himself, “So pretty.” He slid a finger between your folds, making you moan in relief and pleasure, and added, “So wet, too.”

You had lifted your body onto your forearms so you could take a good look at him. He peered up at you and, with a small smile, asked gently, “Tell me if it feels good, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, nodding fervently.

Without wasting another second, he licked a stripe up your core, making you moan again, louder this time. He took that as confirmation to go on and continued exploring your pussy with his tongue. You practically screamed out in pleasure when he found your clit, and by the time he started sucking on it, your thighs were shaking like crazy. You didn’t have any strength left in your body and your forearms gave out under you, so you just lied down on your back, fingers still tangled in and pulling his hair. You hadn’t been able to actually tell him it felt good, but you were sure he understood that much.

One of his fingers, and then a second, entered you, filling you up. “Shit, doll, you’re so tight. How are you gonna handle my cock?”

He curled his fingers inside you and they hit a certain spot that made you see stars, and you were coming all over his fingers and tongue in a matter of seconds, screaming out his name and a string of blasphemies. You had to physically lift his head from your core, telling him it was too much, otherwise he would’ve kept going. He gave you a sheepish smile and you couldn’t believe the boy grinning at you was the same one who’d just said and done all those lewd things to you. He pressed a small kiss on your inner thigh, then lay down next to you on the bed, taking in your flushed cheeks and blown-over eyes. He couldn’t believe he got to have you like this, in your most vulnerable state, all to himself.

When you’d calmed down from your high, you managed to say, “That was amazing, Jay.”

He let out a soft chuckle and kissed your forehead, then trapped your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on his tongue, but you didn’t mind. After a few minutes of lazily making out, you threw your leg over his to position yourself over his hips, and started pressing feather-like kisses down his neck. He’d made you feel so good, and you intended to return the favor.

You felt him sigh at your touch, but before you could go too far down, he stopped you by bringing his hands to both sides of your face, making you look up at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” you immediately asked, worry laced in your voice.

“No, no. God, no, you’re perfect.” he replied. “I just… I still feel so guilty for what I did, and I feel like I don’t deserve you right now.”

“Jay…”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and held your waist tightly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re right, I was being selfish. I should’ve known you wanted that internship, and I knew you wouldn’t get it if my dad thought we were dating, but… I’ve wanted to be with you for such a long time, and when I had the chance to have you, even if it was just pretend, even if it meant lying to you, I couldn’t bring myself to not take that chance. I’m so sorry.”

You had completely forgotten the events of that week, and of that night. Your argument with Jay and Heeseung’s words seemed light-years away. “How long have you liked me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You should’ve been surprised by Jay’s confession, but for some reason, it made sense - what didn’t make sense was how you hadn’t noticed it, or how you’d thought it wasn’t possible that you might like him, too.

“Since we met,” he admitted shyly. “I would’ve told you, but you seemed to enjoy arguing with me so much, I was scared you’d just make fun of me.”

Since you’d met… so, three years? And he’d never said anything? “To be honest, I probably would’ve made fun of you at first,” you agreed light-heartedly. “But I also think it would’ve made me realize what an amazing person you are earlier. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“That’s okay. I would’ve waited my whole life if it meant I could have you at the end.” Butterflies erupted all over your stomach at his words. You kissed him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t.

Now that Jay had gotten what he wanted to say off his chest, you’d hoped you could continue your previous actions, and started pressing kisses down his neck, but he soon stopped you again.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me to go down on you,” you said, half-joking.

He grinned and closed his eyes, as if fighting himself back. “I do, I promise you, I do.” When he opened his eyes again, they were full of affection. “But we’ve got so much time for that later. I just want to feel you around me right now. Would that be okay?” he asked, voice soft.

Your core pulsed at the thought of Jay inside you, and you nodded, breath growing erratic again. Jay gently lay you on your back, and took off his black boxers so that the two of you were finally completely naked, revealing his throbbing cock. He was right, how were you going to handle it? He rummaged around in his bedside drawer for a condom, and put it on with nervous hands.

He lined his tip at your entrance, pressing soft kisses all over your face and neck before pushing in as if to get you to relax. He kissed you gently on the lips. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop right away.”

He waited for you to nod again, and finally entered you. It immediately stretched you out like never before. The sound of you taking a sharp breath in made Jay stop in his tracks. You wrapped your hands around his biceps for support, then, letting out a deep sigh, told him to go on. He pushed in inch by inch until he finally bottomed out. You both let out a hearty moan at the feeling. It was so perfect.

He didn’t move for a few minutes, letting you adjust to his size. You had your eyes closed and were focused on relaxing, until all at once the pain of the stretch turned into pleasure, and you breathed out, “Please, move.” He obeyed and started rocking in and out of you, making you feel each inch of his length inside you. The sensation was intoxicating. You couldn’t stop any of the moans escaping your throat, and Jay took that as a green light to go gradually faster. Your bodies were moving at the exact same pace and you thought the two of you molded together perfectly, as if this was what you had been meant to do your whole life. His fingers were tightly gripping your hips as he thrusted into you harder and harder, making you moan so loud you were practically screaming in pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he said, throwing his head back and letting out a deep moan himself. Your hands roamed all over his body, unable to stay in one place at a time. He suddenly changed the angle of his hips and started hitting that spot inside you he had found earlier with his fingers, making your mind go hay-wire.

“Fuck, right there, Jay!” you screamed out, as he brought your hips down to his faster than you thought was humanly possible. Soon, you were coming again, and the feeling of you clenching down around him made him shoot his release into the condom. He fell on top of you, unable to carry his weight on his arms anymore. He only had enough strength to pull out and discard the condom, before nestling his head between your breasts. Tiredness seeped through your bones, and you both fell asleep in seconds, completely naked and arms around each other.

Jay woke up a few hours later, a cramp in his arm because of how you were laying down on it - the two of you had apparently switched positions at some point during the night. He softly pulled his arm away, trying not to wake you up. He checked his phone; it was 4:29 a.m. He looked down at you, admiring how soft you looked when you were sleeping. He still couldn’t believe his luck, it all felt like a dream to him. But then you shifted slightly, letting out a small whimper, probably because of a dream, and Jay knew this was happening for sure. He hugged you tightly, breathing in the scent of your hair, and, knowing you were fast asleep, murmured, “I love you.”

—

The sunlight peeking through the curtains and hitting your face softly was what woke you up the next morning. You were relieved to feel Jay’s arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. You gently turned around, curious about what he looked like in the morning.

As expected, he was perfect.

You observed him for a while until his eyes fluttered open. “Good morning, handsome,” you whispered, pushing away the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Good morning,” he replied, smiling sleepily. “Creep.”

Quietly, you gasped dramatically and said, “Is a girl a creep for looking at her boyfriend as he sleeps in the morning?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Boyfriend, huh?” he teased.

You grinned at him. “Yeah.”

“Well,” he said, returning your grin and tightening his grip around your waist, “my girlfriend can look at me all she wants.”

You’d technically been dating Jay for over three months now, but knowing it was finally real and not just pretend made you giddy. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and kissed him there, trying to hide your shy smile.

He took your head and lifted it to place a delicate kiss on your lips, which you returned like it was second nature. When you pulled away, you jokingly said, “Mh. Morning breath,” but Jay’s eyes opened wide and he immediately put his hand over his mouth, asking, “Seriously?”

You laughed at him and pulled his hands down, going back in for a kiss. It soon escalated, and you were reminded of the fact that neither of you had clothes on when you could feel Jay’s hardness pressing against your thigh. He apologized shyly, but you told him it was fine, and that you’d take care of it.

This time, when you two made love, it was much slower and light-hearted than the previous night, as if the two of you had finally realized that you had all the time in the world and could enjoy every single second. It was the perfect thing to wake up to.

You two lazied in bed, alternating between slowly making out and daydreaming together, until his stomach rumbled loudly and you really needed to pee. When you joined him in the kitchen, he was heating up waffles on the stove. You hooked your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his back, and he hummed softly.

“Jay?” you whispered, lips just millimeters away from his ear.

“Yes, doll?”

“I love you too.”

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl (ask to be removed/added!) © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

#enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen angst #jay angst #enhypen fanfiction #jay fanfiction #enhypen imagines #jay imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios

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to-the-stars8 · 9 months ago

Text

The Wayne's Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

9 to 5 (Metaphorically)

You had been working for Bruce Wayne for two weeks, and could for sure say that the kids were sweet, though a little out of touch with reality. Whether that was due to their father being the absolute weirdest man on the planet or from how rich they were— You didn’t know. Nonetheless, the days were long and tiresome. You wondered how you ever got through it.

8:15

First and foremost, you had to get up extremely early to see the kids off to school.

You fixed Cassandra’s headband on her head, making sure she looked perfect, before moving to fix Duke’s tie. Turning on your heel, your pink bathrobe swaying as you did, you quickly stopped Tim from pulling Jason’s hair.

“What did I tell you about pulling hair, Timothy Jackson Drake?” You put your hands on your hips.

With pink cheeks, he mumbled, “That karma will make me bald.”

“That’s right, and the last thing we want is to look like Lex Luthor, right kids?”

“Right!” They all mumbled.

Upon his approach, Mr. Wayne seemed pleased with how you managed the kids, even if it was in a less-than-professional way. When you fully turned your attention to him, you grinned, showing off his children. They looked good and healthy—Just as they did before your arrival, the only difference was that he wasn’t as tired.

“Okay, sweet babies, give daddy a kiss before Alfred takes you to school,” You ushered the kids toward their father.

Dick offhandedly said to Alfred, “Did I miss the wedding?” You lightly swatted the back of his head while Bruce was kissing the other children goodbye.

Slowly, the kids trickled out of the door, all of them saying goodbye over their shoulders. Now, you were left alone with Bruce and Damian, who sat securely on his hip.

The moment you turned to the two of them, Damian broke out into a bashful smile. You cooed to him, calling him the sweetest boy on the planet. Finally, you noticed Mr. Wayne again, “You should just leave him here with me. We’ll have such a fun time, huh, buddy?”

Bruce smiled at his boy, pushing his black locks back before addressing you. “No doubt, but I want him to socialize with other kids. The preschool at work is a fine one, too, and today is ice cream day.”

“Oh, my, then don’t let me hold you back! Let me get a kiss real quick,” A surprised look crossed Bruce’s face, but he slowly started to lean his cheek toward you. You swatted him away, making Damian giggle. “Not you!” You blew a raspberry against the boy’s cheek, causing a shrill laugh.

Before you could just snatch the little boy from his father’s grasp so he could stay with you, Bruce adjusted him on his hip before addressing you again. “You have enough to do for the day?”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, most of your attention still on Damian. “Oh, sure, my schedule is booked.”

9:50

Secondly, you made yourself presentable.

No one wants to see their employee running around in their slippers and bathrobes—Plus, Bruce already got onto about not dressing appropriately when some company had come over earlier that week. Luckily, being employed by one of the richest men in Gotham meant one thing; You could finally afford the champagne taste you had.

The only drawback? Beauty took time, so you spent a good chunk of the morning just making yourself ready to be ready.

You had to go through your entire skincare routine (of course, after lounging around in the big bathtub with the jets) before you finally went to your closet to pick out your clothes. Once you had something you decided did finally move on to your makeup. Not that you needed any, you thought, but there was no harm in adding beauty to beauty.

Eventually, the process of actually looking presentable came to a close and lunch was just around the corner. So, getting up, you looked at yourself one more time.

It was hard work being beautiful, but, damn it all, if you didn’t do a good job of it.

11:45

Of course, after you got ready you had to eat something, so, while Alfred meal prepped dinner, you sat while dishing out all the latest gossip.

As you shuffled a sandwich in your mouth, he told you all about Mr. Wayne’s previous relationship with someone named Selina and how it ended in absolute heartbreak. Supposedly, Bruce had been so heartbroken that he could hardly get out of bed and remained a recluse for months afterward. Alfred’s words, not yours.

“Oh, so not much has changed?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Alfred tried to hold back a laugh and leaned forward to quietly add, “This was three years ago.”

You smiled. “So I was right, not much has changed!"

Alfred snickered, turning to peel some more potatoes, and you took the opportunity to tell him your woes with love. It was a deep, tragic tale that could jerk the tears from any eye.

Except for Alfred’s, apparently.

When you were done, he filled you in on an even better story. One about the richest of the rich in Gotham, and every word he said had you hanging on by a thread. If you hadn’t met Alfred before, you would have never guessed that he was the kind of man to eavesdrop or have a big mouth. But, damn, if you weren’t thankful for it.

It certainly was the most entertaining and interesting part of your job.

1:30

After lunch came the hardest tasks. Usually, you cleaned the gaming room for the kids, did some laundry—mainly yours since the kids’ clothes were already washed— and watched TV. Again, it was all in a day’s work.

After vacuuming the rugs, you put away the kids’ toys, wondering momentarily just how much money Mr. Wayne spent on them. Looking at the designer clothes they wore, the latest toys, and gaming devices, you assumed it was well more than what you made in a year. When you had enough of staring at their expensive toys, you ventured into the laundry room.

Luckily, there wasn't a lot to wash, only some towels along with Dickie’s gymnastics clothes. When you had done the last load, you found yourself settling into one of the lounge chairs in the movie room.

This was your favorite part of the day, where it lulled just enough for you to relax again. The kids wouldn’t be home for another hour due to traffic, so you had to whole place to yourself.

Alfred sometimes joined you with a bowl of popcorn, but, since it was so close to picking up the kids from school he had to opt-out. At home, you would have been watching one of those usual daytime soaps, but Alfie had started to put you on EastEnders—claiming it was better than any other trash American daytime TV show. It was only after one character had a whole dramatic flare over the smallest inconvenience, did you started to see why it was his, and Bruce’s too, favorite show. He made you watch so much of it that you had started to pick up some of the British slang, which did not amuse him or Mr. Wayne.

You watched until an idea popped into your head. The kids would be hungry once they got home, as they usually were, so you decided it would be nice to make them their special snacks.

Happily, you put it all together, and, when the kids came home, you were excited to see their reaction.

3:45

It was almost like clockwork the way they always managed to arrive home exactly at the same time every day.

You greet all of them with a big hug as you tell them about the treats they had waiting in the dining room. Excited, they were pleased to see that, while Alfred was out picking them up, you had gone out of your way to make their favorite treats.

Tim grabbed his plate and exclaimed loudly that you were by far the best nanny they ever had. A few of the other kids agreed, and you tried to not let it go to your head so quickly. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with them.

They told you all about school, which, ultimately, just turned into a PG gossiping session. Tim told you all about this one kid, who was almost two years older than him, who always called him names and pulled his hair. Almost instantly, based on the last little detail, did you figure it out. Turning around, you looked at the second eldest Wayne who, despite being so sweet, could be devious and a little mean from time to time.

“Jason Peter Todd, you need to stop being mean to your brother. And what did I say about hair-pulling? At your age, you should know better!”

Jason gasped, looking around to gain some sympathy. “Why do you think it’s me?”

You cocked an eyebrow and that’s what made the cookie crumble. He confessed that maybe it was him and that he wouldn’t do it again. The rest of the table took their time calling him the future Lex Luthor, much to his annoyance.

You thought yourself lucky to be the nanny of such sweet kids, even if they were a bit weird. It brought back some happiness in your life that you didn’t know you were missing.

As the plates started to stack, you clapped your hands together and said, “Alright kiddos, once you’re done with your snacks, get your homework out. The faster you get it done, the faster we can all go play games.”

5:00

Finally, Mr. Wayne came home.

When he did, the entire house seemed to be in a clamor to get to him first. At least, the younger ones did. Dick and Cassandra seemed more interested if he had brought home any treats for them. When there was none, they turned on their heels and retreated into their respective tasks. That didn’t seem to discourage him though, and he was almost playful with the rest of the children.

When Bruce had thrown Duke over one shoulder and Tim over the other as Jason trailed after them, you took Damian. He had a pout on his lips, and tears in the corner of his eyes. When you asked him what was wrong, Damian informed you that ice cream day had been canceled because, in his words, the teachers were mean.

“Fair enough,” You said, taking him to the kitchen. “How about this, we get some ice cream and watch some TV, huh?”

Damian was close to crying, probably just as exhausted from the day as you were, but nodded his head. You gave him another kiss and let him rest his head on your shoulder. After you plucked a little ice cream sandwich from the fridge, the two of you went to join the rest of the family in the gaming room.

Bruce was there, tie and jacket abandoned, sitting on the couch playing Dick in Mortal Kombat. It didn’t look like Mr. Wayne knew exactly how to play, but he was getting the hang of it. Now and then, when there was a particular point he didn’t understand, Duke, being the sweetest yet odd kid ever, whispered to him what to do. Why a six-year-old knew how to play a game he was far too young for, you didn’t know.

Looking down at Damian, it was clear to see just how sleepy he was and you started to get up to put him in his room when Alfred stopped you. He offered to take the boy up and gestured over to Cassandra, who was looking at you with her big brown eyes.

“Hello, sweet girl,” You said as soon as Damian was gone.

Cassandra, who was sitting on the floor with a ballerina Barbie in hand, walked on her knees over to you. “Can you braid my hair?”

You grinned, looking at her pretty black hair. It was short, cut just below her shoulder, but you could make something work. She plopped down right in front of you and immediately you began to play with her hair.

Amidst playing his game, Mr. Wayne looked over in your direction to admire you and Cassandra. When you caught his eye, you winked and smiled. Bashfully, he looked back at the game. Unfortunately for him, Tim saw the whole interaction and started to loudly poke fun at his father.

Ultimately, that’s how the day went. It was a lot of work, and, again, you didn’t know how you did it. Yet, you were glad that it almost always ended so happily.

It wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five—It was better.

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songofapollon · 1 month ago

Text

Homeric Hymn III. TO APOLLO

Translated by H. G. Evelyn-White

TO DELIAN APOLLO

[1] I will remember and not be unmindful of Apollo who shoots afar. As he goes through the house of Zeus, the gods tremble before him and all spring up from their seats when he draws near, as he bends his bright bow. But Leto alone stays by the side of Zeus who delights in thunder; and then she unstrings his bow, and closes his quiver, and takes his archery from his strong shoulders in her hands and hangs them on a golden peg against a pillar of his father's house. Then she leads him to a seat and makes him sit: and the Father gives him nectar in a golden cup welcoming his dear son, while the other gods make him sit down there, and queenly Leto rejoices because she bare a mighty son and an archer. Rejoice, blessed Leto, for you bare glorious children, the lord Apollo and Artemis who delights in arrows; her in Ortygia, and him in rocky Delos, as you rested against the great mass of the Cynthian hill hard by a palm-tree by the streams of Inopus.

[19] How, then, shall I sing of you who in all ways are a worthy theme of song? For everywhere, O Phoebus, the whole range of song is fallen to you, both over the mainland that rears heifers and over the isles. All mountain-peaks and high headlands of lofty hills and rivers flowing out to the deep and beaches sloping seawards and havens of the sea are your delight. Shall I sing how at the first Leto bare you to be the joy of men, as she rested against Mount Cynthus in that rocky isle, in sea-girt Delos -- while on either hand a dark wave rolled on landwards driven by shrill winds -- whence arising you rule over all mortal men?

[30] Among those who are in Crete, and in the township of Athens, and in the isle of Aegina and Euboea, famous for ships, in Aegae and Eiresiae and Peparethus near the sea, in Thracian Athos and Pelion's towering heights and Thracian Samos and the shady hills of Ida, in Scyros and Phocaea and the high hill of Autocane and fair-lying Imbros and smouldering Lemnos and rich Lesbos, home of Macar, the son of Aeolus, and Chios, brightest of all the isles that lie in the sea, and craggy Mimas and the heights of Corycus and gleaming Claros and the sheer hill of Aesagea and watered Samos and the steep heights of Mycale, in Miletus and Cos, the city of Meropian men, and steep Cnidos and windy Carpathos, in Naxos and Paros and rocky Rhenaea -- so far roamed Leto in travail with the god who shoots afar, to see if any land would be willing to make a dwelling for her son. But they greatly trembled and feared, and none, not even the richest of them, dared receive Phoebus, until queenly Leto set foot on Delos and uttered winged words and asked her:

[51] "Delos, if you would be willing to be the abode of my son "Phoebus Apollo and make him a rich temple --; for no other will touch you, as you will find: and I think you will never be rich in oxen and sheep, nor bear vintage nor yet produce plants abundantly. But if you have the temple of far-shooting Apollo, all men will bring you hecatombs and gather here, and incessant savour of rich sacrifice will always arise, and you will feed those who dwell in you from the hand of strangers; for truly your own soil is not rich."

[62] So spake Leto. And Delos rejoiced and answered and said: "Leto, most glorious daughter of great Coeus, joyfully would I receive your child the far-shooting lord; for it is all too true that I am ill-spoken of among men, whereas thus I should become very greatly honoured. But this saying I fear, and I will not hide it from you, Leto. They say that Apollo will be one that is very haughty and will greatly lord it among gods and men all over the fruitful earth. Therefore, I greatly fear in heart and spirit that as soon as he sets the light of the sun, he will scorn this island -- for truly I have but a hard, rocky soil -- and overturn me and thrust me down with his feet in the depths of the sea; then will the great ocean wash deep above my head for ever, and he will go to another land such as will please him, there to make his temple and wooded groves. So, many-footed creatures of the sea will make their lairs in me and black seals their dwellings undisturbed, because I lack people. Yet if you will but dare to sware a great oath, goddess, that here first he will build a glorious temple to be an oracle for men, then let him afterwards make temples and wooded groves amongst all men; for surely he will be greatly renowned."

[83] So said Delos. And Leto sware the great oath of the gods: "Now hear this, Earth and wide Heaven above, and dropping water of Styx (this is the strongest and most awful oath for the blessed gods), surely Phoebus shall have here his fragrant altar and precinct, and you he shall honour above all."

[89] Now when Leto had sworn and ended her oath, Delos was very glad at the birth of the far-shooting lord. But Leto was racked nine days and nine nights with pangs beyond wont. And there were with her all the chiefest of the goddesses, Dione and Rhea and Ichnaea and Themis and loud-moaning Amphitrite and the other deathless goddesses save white-armed Hera, who sat in the halls of cloud-gathering Zeus. Only Eilithyia, goddess of sore travail, had not heard of Leto's trouble, for she sat on the top of Olympus beneath golden clouds by white-armed Hera's contriving, who kept her close through envy, because Leto with the lovely tresses was soon to bear a son faultless and strong.

[102] But the goddesses sent out Iris from the well-set isle to bring Eilithyia, promising her a great necklace strung with golden threads, nine cubits long. And they bade Iris call her aside from white-armed Hera, lest she might afterwards turn her from coming with her words. When swift Iris, fleet of foot as the wind, had heard all this, she set to run; and quickly finishing all the distance she came to the home of the gods, sheer Olympus, and forthwith called Eilithyia out from the hall to the door and spoke winged words to her, telling her all as the goddesses who dwell on Olympus had bidden her. So she moved the heart of Eilithyia in her dear breast; and they went their way, like shy wild-doves in their going.

[115] And as soon as Eilithyia the goddess of sore travail set foot on Delos, the pains of birth seized Leto, and she longed to bring forth; so she cast her arms about a palm tree and kneeled on the soft meadow while the earth laughed for joy beneath. Then the child leaped forth to the light, and all the goddesses washed you purely and cleanly with sweet water, and swathed you in a white garment of fine texture, new-woven, and fastened a golden band about you.

[123] Now Leto did not give Apollo, bearer of the golden blade, her breast; but Themis duly poured nectar and ambrosia with her divine hands: and Leto was glad because she had borne a strong son and an archer. But as soon as you had tasted that divine heavenly food, O Phoebus, you could no longer then be held by golden cords nor confined with bands, but all their ends were undone. Forthwith Phoebus Apollo spoke out among the deathless goddesses: "The lyre and the curved bow shall ever be dear to me, and I will declare to men the unfailing will of Zeus."

[133] So said Phoebus, the long-haired god who shoots afar and began to walk upon the wide-pathed earth; and all goddesses were amazed at him. Then with gold all Delos was laden, beholding the child of Zeus and Leto, for joy because the god chose her above the islands and shore to make his dwelling in her: and she loved him yet more in her heart, and blossomed as does a mountain-top with woodland flowers.

[140] And you, O lord Apollo, god of the silver bow, shooting afar, now walked on craggy Cynthus, and now kept wandering about the island and the people in them. Many are your temples and wooded groves, and all peaks and towering bluffs of lofty mountains and rivers flowing to the sea are dear to you, Phoebus, yet in Delos do you most delight your heart; for there the long robed Ionians gather in your honour with their children and shy wives: mindful, they delight you with boxing and dancing and song, so often as they hold their gathering. A man would say that they were deathless and unageing if he should then come upon the Ionians so met together. For he would see the graces of them all, and would be pleased in heart gazing at the men and well-girded women with their swift ships and great wealth. And there is this great wonder besides -- and its renown shall never perish -- the girls of Delos, hand-maidens of the Far-shooter; for when they have praised Apollo first, and also Leto and Artemis who delights in arrows, they sing a strain-telling of men and women of past days, and charm the tribes of men. Also they can imitate the tongues of all men and their clattering speech: each would say that he himself were singing, so close to truth is their sweet song.

[165] And now may Apollo be favourable and Artemis; and farewell all you maidens. Remember me in after time whenever any one of men on earth, a stranger who has seen and suffered much, comes here and asks of you: "Whom think ye, girls, is the sweetest singer that comes here, and in whom do you most delight?" Then answer, each and all, with one voice: "He is a blind man, and dwells in rocky Chios: his lays are evermore supreme." As for me, I will carry your renown as far as I roam over the earth to the well-placed this thing is true. And I will never cease to praise far-shooting Apollo, god of the silver bow, whom rich-haired Leto bare.

TO PYTHIAN APOLLO

[179] O Lord, Lycia is yours and lovely Maeonia and Miletus, charming city by the sea, but over wave-girt Delos you greatly reign your own self.

[182] Leto's all-glorious son goes to rocky Pytho, playing upon his hollow lyre, clad in divine, perfumed garments; and at the touch of the golden key his lyre sings sweet. Thence, swift as thought, he speeds from earth to Olympus, to the house of Zeus, to join the gathering of the other gods: then straightway the undying gods think only of the lyre and song, and all the Muses together, voice sweetly answering voice, hymn the unending gifts the gods enjoy and the sufferings of men, all that they endure at the hands of the deathless gods, and how they live witless and helpless and cannot find healing for death or defence against old age. Meanwhile the rich-tressed Graces and cheerful Seasons dance with Harmonia and Hebe and Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, holding each other by the wrist. And among them sings one, not mean nor puny, but tall to look upon and enviable in mien, Artemis who delights in arrows, sister of Apollo. Among them sport Ares and the keen-eyed Slayer of Argus, while Apollo plays his lyre stepping high and featly and a radiance shines around him, the gleaming of his feet and close-woven vest. And they, even gold-tressed Leto and wise Zeus, rejoice in their great hearts as they watch their dear son playing among the undying gods.

[207] How then shall I sing of you -- though in all ways you are a worthy theme for song? Shall I sing of you as wooer and in the fields of love, how you went wooing the daughter of Azan along with god-like Ischys the son of well-horsed Elatius, or with Phorbas sprung from Triops, or with Ereutheus, or with Leucippus and the wife of Leucippus ((lacuna)) . . . you on foot, he with his chariot, yet he fell not short of Triops. Or shall I sing how at the first you went about the earth seeking a place of oracle for men, O far-shooting Apollo? To Pieria first you went down from Olympus and passed by sandy Lectus and Enienae and through the land of the Perrhaebi. Soon you came to Iolcus and set foot on Cenaeum in Euboea, famed for ships: you stood in the Lelantine plain, but it pleased not your heart to make a temple there and wooded groves. From there you crossed the Euripus, far-shooting Apollo, and went up the green, holy hills, going on to Mycalessus and grassy-bedded Teumessus, and so came to the wood-clad abode of Thebe; for as yet no man lived in holy Thebe, nor were there tracks or ways about Thebe's wheat-bearing plain as yet.

[229] And further still you went, O far-shooting Apollo, and came to Onchestus, Poseidon's bright grove: there the new-broken cold distressed with drawing the trim chariot gets spirit again, and the skilled driver springs from his car and goes on his way. Then the horses for a while rattle the empty car, being rid of guidance; and if they break the chariot in the woody grove, men look after the horses, but tilt the chariot and leave it there; for this was the rite from the very first. And the drivers pray to the lord of the shrine; but the chariot falls to the lot of the god.

[239] Further yet you went, O far-shooting Apollo, and reached next Cephissus' sweet stream which pours forth its sweet- flowing water from Lilaea, and crossing over it, O worker from afar, you passed many-towered Ocalea and reached grassy Haliartus.

[244] Then you went towards Telphusa: and there the pleasant place seemed fit for making a temple and wooded grove. You came very near and spoke to her: "Telphusa, here I am minded to make a glorious temple, an oracle for men, and hither they will always bring perfect hecatombs, both those who live in rich Peloponnesus and those of Europe and all the wave-washed isles, coming to seek oracles. And I will deliver to them all counsel that cannot fail, giving answer in my rich temple."

[254] So said Phoebus Apollo, and laid out all the foundations throughout, wide and very long. But when Telphusa saw this, she was angry in heart and spoke, saying: "Lord Phoebus, worker from afar, I will speak a word of counsel to your heart, since you are minded to make here a glorious temple to be an oracle for men who will always bring hither perfect hecatombs for you; yet I will speak out, and do you lay up my words in your heart. The trampling of swift horses and the sound of mules watering at my sacred springs will always irk you, and men will like better to gaze at the well-made chariots and stamping, swift-footed horses than at your great temple and the many treasures that are within. But if you will be moved by me -- for you, lord, are stronger and mightier than I, and your strength is very great -- build at Crisa below the glades of Parnassus: there no bright chariot will clash, and there will be no noise of swift-footed horses near your well-built altar. But so the glorious tribes of men will bring gifts to you as Iepaeon (`Hail-Healer'), and you will receive with delight rich sacrifices from the people dwelling round about." So said Telphusa, that she alone, and not the Far-Shooter, should have renown there; and she persuaded the Far-Shooter.

[277] Further yet you went, far-shooting Apollo, until you came to the town of the presumptuous Phlegyae who dwell on this earth in a lovely glade near the Cephisian lake, caring not for Zeus. And thence you went speeding swiftly to the mountain ridge, and came to Crisa beneath snowy Parnassus, a foothill turned towards the west: a cliff hangs over if from above, and a hollow, rugged glade runs under. There the lord Phoebus Apollo resolved to make his lovely temple, and thus he said: "In this place I am minded to build a glorious temple to be an oracle for men, and here they will always bring perfect hecatombs, both they who dwell in rich Peloponnesus and the men of Europe and from all the wave-washed isles, coming to question me. And I will deliver to them all counsel that cannot fail, answering them in my rich temple."

[294] When he had said this, Phoebus Apollo laid out all the foundations throughout, wide and very long; and upon these the sons of Erginus, Trophonius and Agamedes, dear to the deathless gods, laid a footing of stone. And the countless tribes of men built the whole temple of wrought stones, to be sung of for ever.

[300] But near by was a sweet flowing spring, and there with his strong bow the lord, the son of Zeus, killed the bloated, great she-dragon, a fierce monster wont to do great mischief to men upon earth, to men themselves and to their thin- shanked sheep; for she was a very bloody plague. She it was who once received from gold-throned Hera and brought up fell, cruel Typhaon to be a plague to men. Once on a time Hera bare him because she was angry with father Zeus, when the Son of Cronos bare all-glorious Athena in his head. Thereupon queenly Hera was angry and spoke thus among the assembled gods:

[311] "Hear from me, all gods and goddesses, how cloud-gathering Zeus begins to dishonour me wantonly, when he has made me his true-hearted wife. See now, apart from me he has given birth to bright-eyed Athena who is foremost among all the blessed gods. But my son Hephaestus whom I bare was weakly among all the blessed gods and shrivelled of foot, a shame and disgrace to me in heaven, whom I myself took in my hands and cast out so that he fell in the great sea. But silver-shod Thetis the daughter of Nereus took and cared for him with her sisters: would that she had done other service to the blessed gods! O wicked one and crafty! What else will you now devise? How dared you by yourself give birth to bright-eyed Athena? Would not I have borne you a child -- I, who was at least called your wife among the undying gods who hold wide heaven. Beware now lest I devise some evil thing for you hereafter: yes, now I will contrive that a son be born me to be foremost among the undying gods -- and that without casting shame on the holy bond of wedlock between you and me. And I will not come to your bed, but will consort with the blessed gods far off from you."

[331] When she had so spoken, she went apart from the gods, being very angry. Then straightway large-eyed queenly Hera prayed, striking the ground flatwise with her hand, and speaking thus: "Hear now, I pray, Earth and wide Heaven above, and you Titan gods who dwell beneath the earth about great Tartarus, and from whom are sprung both gods and men! Harken you now to me, one and all, and grant that I may bear a child apart from Zeus, no wit lesser than him in strength -- nay, let him be as much stronger than Zeus as all-seeing Zeus than Cronos."

[340] Thus she cried and lashed the earth with her strong hand. Then the life-giving earth was moved: and when Hera saw it she was glad in heart, for she thought her prayer would be fulfilled. And thereafter she never came to the bed of wise Zeus for a full year, not to sit in her carved chair as aforetime to plan wise counsel for him, but stayed in her temples where many pray, and delighted in her offerings, large-eyed queenly Hera. But when the months and days were fulfilled and the seasons duly came on as the earth moved round, she bare one neither like the gods nor mortal men, fell, cruel Typhaon, to be a plague to men. Straightway large-eyed queenly Hera took him and bringing one evil thing to another such, gave him to the dragoness; and she received him. And this Typhaon used to work great mischief among the famous tribes of men. Whosoever met the dragoness, the day of doom would sweep him away, until the lord Apollo, who deals death from afar, shot a strong arrow at her. Then she, rent with bitter pangs, lay drawing great gasps for breath and rolling about that place. An awful noise swelled up unspeakable as she writhed continually this way and that amid the wood: and so she left her life, breathing it forth in blood.

[362] Then Phoebus Apollo boasted over her: "Now rot here upon the soil that feeds man! You at least shall live no more to be a fell bane to men who eat the fruit of the all-nourishing earth, and who will bring hither perfect hecatombs. Against cruel death neither Typhoeus shall avail you nor ill-famed Chimera, but here shall the Earth and shining Hyperion make you rot."

[370] Thus said Phoebus, exulting over her: and darkness covered her eyes. And the holy strength of Helios made her rot away there; wherefore the place is now called Pytho, and men call the lord Apollo by another name, Pythian; because on that spot the power of piercing Helios made the monster rot away.

[375] Then Phoebus Apollo saw that the sweet-flowing spring had beguiled him, and he started out in anger against Telphusa; and soon coming to her, he stood close by and spoke to her: "Telphusa, you were not, after all, to keep to yourself this lovely place by deceiving my mind, and pour forth your clear flowing water: here my renown shall also be and not yours alone?"

[382] Thus spoke the lord, far-working Apollo, and pushed over upon her a crag with a shower of rocks, hiding her streams: and he made himself an altar in a wooded grove very near the clear-flowing stream. In that place all men pray to the great one by the name Telphusian, because he humbled the stream of holy Telphusa.

[388] Then Phoebus Apollo pondered in his heart what men he should bring in to be his ministers in sacrifice and to serve him in rocky Pytho. And while he considered this, he became aware of a swift ship upon the wine-like sea in which were many men and goodly, Cretans from Cnossos,10 the city of Minos, they who do sacrifice to the prince and announce his decrees, whatsoever Phoebus Apollo, bearer of the golden blade, speaks in answer from his laurel tree below the dells of Parnassus. These men were sailing in their black ship for traffic and for profit to sandy Pylos and to the men of Pylos. But Phoebus Apollo met them: in the open sea he sprang upon their swift ship, like a dolphin in shape, and lay there, a great and awesome monster, and none of them gave heed so as to understand11; but they sought to cast the dolphin overboard. But he kept shaking the black ship every way and make the timbers quiver. So they sat silent in their craft for fear, and did not loose the sheets throughout the black, hollow ship, nor lowered the sail of their dark-prowed vessel, but as they had set it first of all with oxhide ropes, so they kept sailing on; for a rushing south wind hurried on the swift ship from behind. First they passed by Malea, and then along the Laconian coast they came to Taenarum, sea-garlanded town and country of Helios who gladdens men, where the thick- fleeced sheep of the lord Helios feed continually and occupy a glad-some country. There they wished to put their ship to shore, and land and comprehend the great marvel and see with their eyes whether the monster would remain upon the deck of the hollow ship, or spring back into the briny deep where fishes shoal. But the well-built ship would not obey the helm, but went on its way all along Peloponnesus: and the lord, far-working Apollo, guided it easily with the breath of the breeze. So the ship ran on its course and came to Arena and lovely Argyphea and Thryon, the ford of Alpheus, and well-placed Aepy and sandy Pylos and the men of Pylos; past Cruni it went and Chalcis and past Dyme and fair Elis, where the Epei rule. And at the time when she was making for Pherae, exulting in the breeze from Zeus, there appeared to them below the clouds the steep mountain of Ithaca, and Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus. But when they were passed by all the coast of Peloponnesus, then, towards Crisa, that vast gulf began to heave in sight which through all its length cuts off the rich isle of Pelops. There came on them a strong, clear west-wind by ordinance of Zeus and blew from heaven vehemently, that with all speed the ship might finish coursing over the briny water of the sea. So they began again to voyage back towards the dawn and the sun: and the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, led them on until they reached far-seen Crisa, land of vines, and into haven: there the sea-coursing ship grounded on the sands.

[440] Then, like a star at noonday, the lord, far-working Apollo, leaped from the ship: flashes of fire flew from him thick and their brightness reached to heaven. He entered into his shrine between priceless tripods, and there made a flame to flare up bright, showing forth the splendour of his shafts, so that their radiance filled all Crisa, and the wives and well-girded daughters of the Crisaeans raised a cry at that outburst of Phoebus; for he cast great fear upon them all. From his shrine he sprang forth again, swift as a thought, to speed again to the ship, bearing the form of a man, brisk and sturdy, in the prime of his youth, while his broad shoulders were covered with his hair: and he spoke to the Cretans, uttering winged words:

[452] "Strangers, who are you? Whence come you sailing along the paths of the sea? Are you for traffic, or do you wander at random over the sea as pirates do who put their own lives to hazard and bring mischief to men of foreign parts as they roam? Why rest you so and are afraid, and do not go ashore nor stow the gear of your black ship? For that is the custom of men who live by bread, whenever they come to land in their dark ships from the main, spent with toil; at once desire for sweet food catches them about the heart."

[462] So speaking, he put courage in their hearts, and the master of the Cretans answered him and said: "Stranger -- though you are nothing like mortal men in shape or stature, but are as the deathless gods -- hail and all happiness to you, and may the gods give you good. Now tell me truly that I may surely know it: what country is this, and what land, and what men live herein? As for us, with thoughts set otherwards, we were sailing over the great sea to Pylos from Crete (for from there we declare that we are sprung), but now are come on shipboard to this place by no means willingly -- another way and other paths -- and gladly would we return. But one of the deathless gods brought us here against our will."

[474] Then far-working Apollo answered then and said: "Strangers who once dwelt about wooded Cnossos but now shall return no more each to his loved city and fair house and dear wife; here shall you keep my rich temple that is honoured by many men. I am the son of Zeus; Apollo is my name: but you I brought here over the wide gulf of the sea, meaning you no hurt; nay, here you shall keep my rich temple that is greatly honoured among men, and you shall know the plans of the deathless gods, and by their will you shall be honoured continually for all time. And now come, make haste and do as I say. First loose the sheets and lower the sail, and then draw the swift ship up upon the land. Take out your goods and the gear of the straight ship, and make an altar upon the beach of the sea: light fire upon it and make an offering of white meal. Next, stand side by side around the altar and pray: and in as much as at the first on the hazy sea I sprang upon the swift ship in the form of a dolphin, pray to me as Apollo Delphinius; also the altar itself shall be called Delphinius and overlooking12 for ever. Afterwards, sup beside your dark ship and pour an offering to the blessed gods who dwell on Olympus. But when you have put away craving for sweet food, come with me singing the hymn Ie Paean (Hail, Healer!), until you come to the place where you shall keep my rich temple."

[502] So said Apollo. And they readily harkened to him and obeyed him. First they unfastened the sheets and let down the sail and lowered the mast by the forestays upon the mast-rest. Then, landing upon the beach of the sea, they hauled up the ship from the water to dry land and fixed long stays under it. Also they made an altar upon the beach of the sea, and when they had lit a fire, made an offering of white meal, and prayed standing around the altar as Apollo had bidden them. Then they took their meal by the swift, black ship, and poured an offering to the blessed gods who dwell on Olympus. And when they had put away craving for drink and food, they started out with the lord Apollo, the son of Zeus, to lead them, holding a lyre in his hands, and playing sweetly as he stepped high and featly. So the Cretans followed him to Pytho, marching in time as they chanted the Ie Paean after the manner of the Cretan paean-singers and of those in whose hearts the heavenly Muse has put sweet-voiced song. With tireless feet they approached the ridge and straightway came to Parnassus and the lovely place where they were to dwell honoured by many men. There Apollo brought them and showed them his most holy sanctuary and rich temple.

[524] But their spirit was stirred in their dear breasts, and the master of the Cretans asked him, saying: "Lord, since you have brought us here far from our dear ones and our fatherland, -- for so it seemed good to your heart, -- tell us now how we shall live. That we would know of you. This land is not to be desired either for vineyards or for pastures so that we can live well thereon and also minister to men."

[531] Then Apollo, the son of Zeus, smiled upon them and said: "Foolish mortals and poor drudges are you, that you seek cares and hard toils and straits! Easily will I tell you a word and set it in your hearts. Though each one of you with knife in hand should slaughter sheep continually, yet would you always have abundant store, even all that the glorious tribes of men bring here for me. But guard you my temple and receive the tribes of men that gather to this place, and especially show mortal men my will, and do you keep righteousness in your heart. But if any shall be disobedient and pay no heed to my warning, of if there shall be any idle word or deed and outrage as is common among mortal men, then other men shall be your masters and with a strong hand shall make you subject for ever. All has been told you: do you keep it in your heart."

[545] And so, farewell, son of Zeus and Leto; but I will remember you and another hymn also.

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highonakuweeds · 4 months ago

Text

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness? (pt 2)

Sylus/right hand man!reader

SUMMARY: You decided to indulge in Aries' little date, a "simple" dinner in an expensive place. However, one drink led to another and you found yourself thinking about Sylus way more than you should be.

WARNINGS:

smut, cunnilingus, making out, intoxication, aphrodisiac, slightly jealous Sylus, possibly ooc ??

GENRE: smut, a bit of fluff near the end

Is it obvious idk how to tag?

“Must I wear this?” A familiar man held a perfume bottle in his hand, glancing at its label. Behind it, translucent pink liquid swished around, as if eager to be released. He grimaced at the sight, clearly not liking the idea.

Another man, a decade or two older, just scoffed, fixing his nephew’s collar. “Yes, you do. I did not raise you to retaliate.”

His nephew snorted. “You didn’t raise me, per se—”

“Aries.” Ciel’s voice cut through his statement, making the man clear his throat. “Sorry, sir.”

“There you go.” And with that, Ciel backed off, arms crossed in expectation. Aries’ jaw clenched before spraying the perfume over his pulse points, as well as his hair. It smelled sickeningly sweet in his opinion, too sweet to the point he almost gagged in front of his uncle. But, he was told that it would wear down the moment he met a certain little (Name).

He didn’t want to trick you like this, but he saw your hesitance when he touched your shoulder. As if you knew he was something he shouldn’t be.

—--

You couldn’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror.

You bought the beauty you were wearing yourself, and even if it wasn’t the signature black or red that Sylus loved dressing you in, you believed that a pretty champagne would do you good. It’s not as if it ever let you down before. Its plunging neckline was daring for a first date, but you were never one for subtlety. Not if you had the richest man in the world as your wallet.

A simple dinner, Aries told you. You snorted. Yeah, right. A simple dinner for the rich, maybe.

You should be used to restaurants like what Aries had sent you the location of, but you never asked to join Sylus whenever he’d go, so you were never accustomed to them.

You always seemed to forget you were constantly surrounded by the wealthy as long as you were in the N109 Zone.

You had told Tara and the others that you had to leave shift early for a simple little date, and the moment you did, their eyes lit up immediately, especially Tara. She always thought money was your one true love, and though she wasn’t necessarily wrong, she was happy that there was at least some space in your heart for a person.

You scoffed at the idea of having an actual partner. You were just humoring Aries; he didn’t really mean anything to you. Ever since you left the auction, he began texting you almost nonstop, occasionally giving you a bouquet of roses before the actual dinner, which was scheduled a week after the auction. But it felt mundane to you. None of it compared to what Sylus had done for you during the first week of your stay.

You shook your head. Why were you thinking of your damn boss? Why were you comparing him to a potential romantic partner? With a huff, you grabbed your clutch and headed straight for your double door.

The moment you opened one of them, though, Sylus was right in front of you, leaning against the other door, sparing you a glance. “Where are you off to?”

You smiled plainly at it, crossing your arms as you faced him. “That won’t work on me. I’m leaving now!” You spun on your heels before walking down the hallways, your figure a deep contrast to the darkness of the walls around you. You heard Sylus scoff in amusement, and it ticked you off. “If I see Mephisto or any one of your goons following or spying on me, I will leave.”

“As if you could,” you heard him bite back, and you smiled. You hated how he was right. Though you knew he wouldn’t follow you after what you said. You hoped.

—--

“Reservation under Cartier.” Aries informed the waiter, who had bowed and ushered us to your seats. Your interest piqued at his last name, and the moment you two sat down, you brought it up. “‘Cartier’? Like the vintage jewelry brand?” You joked, nodding at the waiter in gratitude.

He just goofishly laughed, looking down at the candlelit table with humility. “I get that a lot, yeah. But speaking of it, though, my dad used to talk about a certain jewelry store.”

At that, your face dropped in shock, eyes wide at his words. “...Your family owns Cartier?”

Aries shrugged, smiling awkwardly at the waiter as he poured the red wine. “I guess? I haven't heard about it in a while, though. He barely talks about it now.”

“I have some of your pieces!” You exclaimed, putting your hand out to show him a beautiful Trinity ring on your left middle finger, truly a classic. “See?”

His eyes twinkled at the ring, and his hand took yours. When he leaned down and kissed your ring, your nostrils began to get filled up with a sweet aroma, and suddenly you had difficulty breathing.

Aries’ eyes glanced up at you, half-lidded, and he tilted his head. “Are you alright, (Name)?”

His voice was muffled in your head, and you knew just how flushed your cheeks were. There was something wrong with the air. You took another sniff of it, your wrist heating up at the course of information.

You immediately regretted the decision of sniffing the air once more, however, as you let out a groan, your head hurting a bit more than it should. “I-I’m fine.” You muttered, flashing a smile to comfort Aries. “It’s okay; someone’s perfume is just piercing through my nose.”

That seemed to soothe Aries, indeed, as he nodded understandingly. “Of course. Now, let’s get started, shall we?”

“I never say no to a good meal.”

Throughout the entire dinner, you couldn’t focus as much as you wanted to. Especially after you realized that the perfume you were smelling was an aphrodisiac, and that you were almost sure it was from Aries. Did he know that it was an aphrodisiac? Was he planning on drugging you? You couldn’t help it; your guard was up the entire time he talked and you responded. Yet at the same time, you couldn’t keep up security for longer when you constantly had rather… indecent thoughts, not about the man in front of you, but about the man you wished was spying on you.

Ah shit, you are not going home horny for Sylus, out of all people. You won’t allow it.

But when Aries encouraged you to take another glass of wine, just like he did, you couldn’t help it. You accepted his offer, and spent the remaining time wondering just how long until you got home, whilst laughing your ass off at whatever Aries was talking about.

You stumbled as you giggled, grabbing onto Aries’ shoulder. The man you walked into the dinner with was also visibly wasted, with his flushed face and his wobbly walk.

“You sure you won’t ride with me?” He hiccuped, making you nod vigorously, your pouty lips catching his attention. “Yes, yes!” You exclaimed, slapping his arm playfully. “I’ll be fine. I booked a ride.” Both your speeches slurred as you talked, but it all felt normal to the both of you.

Aries nodded at the same time as you, making his head spin. “Okay.” He grunted, not before cupping your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and you almost sobered fully at that feeling. You couldn’t even process what was going on before he smashed his lips onto yours. Luckily there was no tongue, but it was definitely uncomfortable. You smelled the familiar sweetness you did when you were sober, and your heart sank when you realized that it was him that was wearing the aphrodisiac. And with what he was doing right now, you assumed that he was anticipating you to give in to him.

But for some reason you weren’t. You weren’t aroused by the idea of Aries, nor were you aroused by his actions. They all felt forced, though you had always just brushed it off.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally let go, his lips parted as he panted. “I will see you,” he walked towards his car, where the driver was waiting for him. “In a week’s time, same time!”

It took you a while to understand what he was saying, but you nodded your head, almost your entire torso as well, when you got the message. “Okay!”

“Goodnight, (Name)!”

“Good night, Aries!”

The moment he left, the hair at your nape stood up, and a shiver ran down your spine. Something dangerous was in the vicinity, but this felt more natural. Familiar, even.

“So, I assume the date went well, given you had to call me to pick you up?” A rich, deep voice echoed in your mind, and a tug almost made you stumble. Luckily, strong hands caught you just in time. Your smile almost blinded you with how high your cheeks were raised as you looked up at Sylus, who had an amused smirk on his face. His eyes, however, told a different story. They held a look of concern and worry, something you’d never seen in his eyes.

“Sylus!” You shouted, flipping your body like you were boneless until your chin was on his chest and his arms were wrapped around your waist, back slightly arched. “I knew you’d come.”

He just scoffed at your words, and his face softened with each second he gazed at you. “So what, is your new boyfriend that much of an idiot to not offer you a ride home? Is he broke? Ashamed of his form of transportation, perhaps?”

You pouted at his questions, knowing all too well despite being drunk that he was teasing you. “Shut up; I told him I already had a ride home.” Your eyes trailed down until his collarbone, and Sylus could’ve sworn something dangerous flashed in your eyes as you did so. “Speaking of which, can we go home?”

“I’m just waiting on you, sweetie.” He muttered, staring at you for a couple more minutes before picking you up swiftly, one arm hooked under your waist and the other under your legs.

You yelped at the sudden movement, thrashing in his iron grasp. “Jesus Christ, Sylus! Put me down!”

“You’re drunk, and when I saw you, you could barely walk,” he commented, making you huff, leaning on his chest. From how you were positioned, you could hear his heart beating as fast as you’ve ever heard a heart go. Why was it racing so much?

All of this adrenaline had made you forget about the searing heat growing in your abdomen, something that Aries had apparently wanted to happen to you. And with Sylus this close, you could no longer push it aside.

If you were to be honest, it felt excruciatingly painful, having no friction in that area. And you couldn’t even think properly, so how could you ever distract yourself, or hell, make the better choice?

You moaned quite loudly in Sylus’ arms, earning a raise of his brow. “Is something the matter, (Nickname)?”

You stopped wiggling around in Sylus’ arms before looking up at him, crossing your arms. “Nothing that's your business.” Actually, it technically was his business; you were dreaming of him fucking you.

Your boss scoffed, picking up one of the helmets and placing it on you after helping you stand up, a hand on your waist. His hand accidentally grazed your neck as he did so, making you whimper. The sudden noise made him narrow his eyes, but he brushed it off. It’s probably the alcohol making you a bit more sensitive than usual.

“Alright, then,” he softly said, and at his voice did you practically melt. You’ve never heard him talk to you like that, and if you were sober, you would’ve probably teased him for it. But now, it just made you conflicted, especially with how every word he spoke sent long, viscous trails of heat down to your core.

He aided you in straddling the back of his motorcycle as he sat in front, encouraging you to hold onto his waist. But Sylus probably knew that you were going to fall either way, so something was kept wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place on the motorcycle.

Now, you weren’t going to deny, you always thought that Sylus’ Evol was interesting, specifically when it materializes like this. But the aphrodisiac got to you almost immediately, and as he started his motorcycle and began riding home, you let out a moan. Gritting your teeth, you grasped his waist tighter, hands subconsciously trailing down lower and lower until you felt one hand grip them, placing them higher.

Shit, you needed release.

What the fuck were you doing? Sylus thought, brows knit together as he focused more on the road. He knew every single street in the N109 Zone like the back of his hand, but you were making it very difficult for him to remember anything. His pants were already strained from you pressing against his chest earlier, and if he were to allow your devious hands to go lower, he wouldn’t have any choice but to pull over.

But no. You were drunk. Inebriated. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this. Plus, what would happen after? It’s not like you two were in love. He just finds you… interesting.

—--

You waved carelessly at Luke and Kieran when you entered the abode, effectively hitting Sylus in the face in the process. He took it with a grunt, and a glare when the two henchmen stifled their snickering. They waved back at you, of course, making you wave even harder at them, which in turn… hit Sylus again.

“Okay, okay, yes, yes, that’s Luke and Kieran; you’ve said your hellos.” Sylus exasperatedly said, dragging you to your room for you to rest.

You acquiesced with a huff, but not before waving one last time to them. This time, Sylus was able to dodge your arms, but his slight irritation only grew.

“Okay, there you go.” Sylus muttered as he laid you down on your bed. You sat there as he removed your shoes, staring at his white tufts of hair and skilled hands. The shoes you chose to wear were a bit more complex than your usual ones, and yet Sylus was able to quickly remove them with ease.

A familiar feeling of heat pooled all the way down, and your brows furrowed at it. A hand came to your chest, studying your heartbeat and regulating your breathing. You were breathing quickly, but you weren’t quite sure why.

Sylus looked up at you, a brow raised. “Is there a reason as to why you’re hyperventilating? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head in big movements before pausing, then nodding your head with the same energy. Sylus kept himself knelt on the edge of your bed, fixing your heels so you won’t trip on them when you wake up. “Oh? There is something wrong? Am I allowed to know?”

“Aries was wearing an aphrodisiac,” you blurted out before hitting your fluff of pillows behind you with a thud. You closed your eyes as you sighed into the bed.

That got Sylus to stay silent for a couple beats, processing what you just said. “Did he do anything to you? Is that why you’re drunk?” Sylus knew Ciel’s address. He could very well drive there and make Aries disappear in less than 30 minutes.

“Hey!” You exclaimed. “Don’t you even think about murdering Aries, because no. He didn’t do anything. I got drunk on my own.”

Sylus stood up, crossing his arms afterwards. “So, has it worn off?”

You slowly opened your eyes to look at Sylus, who was now towering over you. You swallowed thickly, lips parted as you felt your cheeks flush. Heavily, you shook your head, sparking a glint of intrigue in your boss’ eyes. “No?” His voice was low, and oh fuck, that did something to you.

“No.”

Whether it was your intoxicated state or the aphrodisiac or perhaps both, you weren’t quite sure, but you lost all control over better judgment as you sat up so quickly that it startled Sylus, and pulled him on top of you, arms wrapped around his neck. He visibly tensed, his own arms caging around you to keep himself from crushing you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, and you could slowly feel the alcohol fading away. Though the red wine Aries had the waiters serve was strong, it wasn’t strong enough for you to forget everything that happened tonight.

Ah fuck, you’re going to regret this in the morning.

You ran a hand through the back of his head, making him shiver softly. As you studied his face, you could tell that he was battling with his emotions since his eyes were searching for any kind of sign that you wouldn’t like this in the morning. “Are you sure with what you’re about to do?” He murmured, leaning close but not close enough. It made you feral.

You just grinned at his words before closing the distance, lips slotting against his perfectly. Sylus didn’t retaliate or even move, so you parted after a couple seconds, pouting. Ah, right. You shouldn’t even be doing this. This was taboo, right? Like the books you’ve seen your mother read.

But just as you were about to shove him away and out of your room to satisfy yourself, he reeled you in for another kiss, but this time more desperate. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he did, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer to your core. You shivered blissfully at the needed friction, hips grinding against his erratically.

Sylus groaned into your mouth, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for permission. You allowed him, of course. At that point in time you would’ve allowed him to do anything he wanted. God, he tasted like how you imagined him. Not like you constantly thought about what he tasted like, though.

The fluid pleasure in your core built up, and you whined at the feeling, needing to feel him more. Needing him more. God, you hated aphrodisiacs. Well, at least you had personal experience about them stored in your wrist.

You parted from the kiss with a pant, chest heaving as you did so. You were quick to work in slipping your hand under Sylus’ shirt to remove it, but he was just as swift in holding your wrist in warning. You stopped right where his heart was, so you could see almost his entire chest. And his heart; it was beating incredibly quickly. Is he even human?

“Don’t,” his voice was hoarse, lips swollen. It was a sight to behold. “Do anything you’ll regret in the morning. You’re still drunk.”

You whined as he got off you, though you didn’t fail to notice the hesitation in his actions, nor the hand to his lips. “Sylus,” you called out, squeezing your thighs shut at the loss of pleasure.

His hands twitched at your voice, the only indication that he was struggling to hold back. Your boss looked back at you over his shoulder, and you could’ve sworn his jaw tightened when he saw you slumped on your headrest, knees together.

Sylus’ eyes laid on your lips, used and pink from his own. They were parted, as if waiting for him to connect his lips to yours once more. And in that moment, he probably would’ve. “You can’t think straight, (Nickname).” He simply said, making your nose scrunch. “I’m sobering up by the minute!” You hit your mattress. “And it hurts. So much.”

That got his attention. He fully turned to face you, expression full of concern. “What hurts?”

Suddenly having the ability to feel embarrassed, you averted his gaze, looking down at your body. You gulped as he finally understood what you were referring to, and he smirked slyly. “It does? And what does that have to do with me?”

“So, now you’ve changed up.” You snapped, mind finally hurting from the aftereffects of the alcohol. “A minute ago, you were so caring.”

“You know that I’m not as caring as you think, sweetie.” He muttered. His actions deceived him, however as he began walking towards you, and you felt the need to squeeze your thighs tighter. “Do you want my help or not?”

…Wait.

Is he actually offering?

Your mind started to flood with images of Sylus on top of you, his face contorted with pleasure as he bottomed out. That earned a shivering gasp from you, lips biting.

He seemed to notice it, however, and he just chuckled. “Not yet, sweetie. I won’t do… anything that will discomfort you when you realize what’s going on, but…” Sylus sat down on your bed, making the mattress sink. He painfully slowly removed his shoes, and the leather jacket that he had on. With the same speed, he crawled to be in front of you, his hands spreading your legs. “I will help you get over this aphrodisiac, since it hurts so much.”

You muttered something about him being a sarcastic ass even when you were in this state until he placed a kiss on your inner thigh. You jolted at that, inhaling sharply through the nose at the same time. Because of it, you tried to close your legs, but Sylus’ firm grip against your knees kept them locked in place, and a coy smirk slapped itself on his face; you wanted nothing more than to slap it off him.

“Ah-ah-ah, (Nickname), don’t be closing your legs now,” he teased, dipping his head low. He shifted the skirt of your dress (with the help of you lifting up your hips) until it was bunched up on your lower abdomen. The fabric made it difficult for you to see what was going on, but Sylus had a perfect view of the wet spot in your underwear. He ogled at it, drunk at the sight. Licking his lips, he dipped low, his hands sliding higher until both were wrapped around each respective thigh, holding them in place. “Not when you’ve already asked for my help. It would be rude of me to not accept it, right?”

You couldn’t even answer him; your eyes were glued to his own as he stared at your underwear. Without thinking, you grabbed your bunched up skirt and placed the extra fabric to the side so that you could see the man in between your legs better. He raised a brow, amused at your antics. “Want a view, don’t you?”

You just snorted. “Duh. I have the leader of Onichynus on his stomach and in between my thighs. I need this burned in my memory.”

Sylus scoffed. He started to pepper kisses all over your inner thighs, always growing closer to the warm spot but never actually moving there. Your resolve grew weaker every time his tongue flicked out to lick the line that connected your thighs and your hips, and he knew just how crazy he was making you feel.

You dragged his name out in a plea, head resting on the bed’s headboard. With a low chuckle, he nodded, using a hand to slide your underwear to the side. What was hiding beneath it glistened in your room’s warm lighting, and Sylus cursed under his breath, feeling himself twitch on your mattress.

One kiss was all it took for you to lose all sense of logic. A whiny moan escaped you as he languidly used his tongue to collect some slick and lay flat against your clit, going in soft circles afterwards. Your hand instinctively ran through his hair, pulling and urging him to go faster.

He grunted at what you did, but he couldn’t deny just how much that turned him on, you using him like this. You begged him to go quicker, and who was he to refuse?

The hands that were wrapped around your thighs pulled you closer to his mouth, and he allowed himself to savor the taste of you. You yelped when he pulled you since your legs naturally went to go over his shoulders. Sylus gripped them for them to stay there as he devoured you.

You couldn’t believe this. The leader of Onichynus was burying himself in the pleasure that was the heat of your thighs. And he was clearly enjoying himself, too, with how many low moans vibrated through you. The aphrodisiac worked wonders as the slight roughness of his tongue worked at you, and you found yourself a moaning mess not even 5 minutes in, begging and whining for more.

Sylus was more than happy to oblige to your pleading, of course. When you told him to stay in that spot, he would, and when you told him to go harder, he did.

And you had to admit, his tongue was skillful in what it was doing. You’ve never doubted his abilities in pleasing women, but to actually experience it was something else. It prodded your entrance, teasing you, until it finally entered. You let out a cry, tugging his hair even more to pull him closer.

Your thighs pressed against the sides of his face, and he groaned at the feeling, nose brushing up against your clit as he relished in your cunt. The more you stared at him, the more you realized just how close you were to the edge, and how much you were probably staining your mattress. Ugh, you’d have to clean this up in the morning.

Your breaths came in either small hiccups or shallow pants, and there were times where you had to remind yourself to breathe and not just hold your breath as you gazed at the man eating you out.

“Sylus,” you breathed out, swallowing saliva that accumulated. “I-I’m so close, Sylus—”

“I know,” was his muffled response, voice thick with the desire to please you. “Use me, (Nickname).”

…oh shit.

You bit your lip, guiding Sylus’ head whilst he resumed what he was doing before. Pleasure and pressure both built inside of you, and you couldn’t help but mutter your boss’ name like a prayer, hoping that if you did, he would easily relieve you.

In all honesty, it didn’t take much for him to do so. Fuck, just the sound of his voice was enough for him to flick his tongue expertly into your entrance or across your clit. As you practically rode his face, one of his hands slid up to your abdomen, where he applied pressure at a rhythmic pace.

You gasped at the addition of ecstacy, and you cried his name out, hips spasming as thighs tightened around his face. Your back arched at how intense your orgasm was, eyes squeezed shut. When they weren’t, they were rolled to the back of your skull.

Sylus grunted when you practically coated his entire face as fluids escaped you, but he wasn’t complaining. He took every single drop you gave him, eager to please and to be used. He let out a low moan, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to catch the liquid you released, and you twitched under his touch, muttering him to stop. Your hand on his hair told a different story, though, as it continued to tug his head towards your cunt.

He only did stop when you finally let go of his hair, a sting entering his scalp. The pain felt amazingly good, though, so he couldn’t care less. You stared half-lidded at him as he panted, swallowing the remaining juices he had in his mouth.

“How are you feeling?” Sylus muttered, planting one more kiss on your still-swollen clit. You jerked at that, squeezing his head again. You winced before murmuring a small sorry. “I-I,” you began to say, but your tongue felt fat in your mouth. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to catch your breath, so you just sighed softly, letting your head rest against the headboard.

Sylus got the memo and just chuckled, removing his grasp of your thighs. He gingerly (which was unusual of him) set your legs down from his shoulders; they flopped onto the bed like they were jelly. Jesus, you would’ve been so embarrassed.

“I’m assuming it’s faded?” He guessed, using his hand to wipe his face first. He could still taste you in his mouth. You barely nodded, eyes closing as your mind drifted away from reality.

Sylus smirked at your vulnerable position right now. He glanced at your glowing right wrist as it processed the experience and stored the information from it. So it really does collect everything.

When he put his eyes back at you, he noticed that you were asleep, energy no longer enough to keep you awake. You were still wearing your makeup and champagne dress, and he knew it wouldn’t be comfortable to wake up in that.

The last thing you heard before fully drifting off was Sylus’ footsteps weakening, and a door closing. Ah, he must’ve left you. Of course, his duty was finally fulfilled; why should he stay for even longer?

—--

When Sylus came back from your bathroom, he had makeup wipes and remover in one hand, a warm damp face towel in the other, and a pair of comfortable pajamas he’d recently bought you. You were fast asleep when he placed the items in his hands on the nightstand and clothes on your bed. And he had to admit, it was cute.

Carefully, he sat down on the bed, just beside you, one leg folded on it. He readied a makeup wipe with remover and cradled your head with his hand, using the other one to gently wipe the foundation and such off your face.

He didn’t dare to speak or wake you up the entire time, instead he used his Evol to turn on the vinyl player he’d gifted you a year ago to play some jazz. Ella Fitzgerald was always your favorite, so he always bought her vinyls. Her and Chet Baker.

So as Ella serenaded the room, he rubbed circles on your face with the towel, removing any excess while also exfoliating your skin. After it, your skin was flushed, red and sensitive from hours of wearing makeup.

Then, he worked on slipping the sleeves of your dress off you, pulling the rest down until you were just in your underwear. He brought another pair of underwear just in case, so he removed everything until you were bare. Sylus grabbed the damp towel once more and cleaned your inner thighs more thoroughly until it was no longer sticky and full of slick. With that, he grabbed the new pair of underwear and slipped them on you. It wasn’t long until a comfortable shirt and pants were on you, and Sylus unclasped your bra easily and removed it with your shirt still on. You always complained about having to wear bras.

He cleaned everything up quite quickly, too, placing your dirty clothes in your hamper before leaving, dimming the lights until only a soft glow emanated in the room. Sylus had left the player on; it would’ve probably stopped the moment you woke up, anyway.

And as he left, he wondered to himself why had he even done you that favor. The first thought that popped up was that it was from the goodness of his heart, but you both knew he didn’t have such thing. He was just…protective of what he had. If he wasn’t, everything he owned would be broken, right?

With that, he called up a hitman. Not for an assassination attempt, but for a warning. A hollow bullet would hit a vase, and inside it was the message, use that perfume again, and your bones will be the next thing up for auction.

It was just Sylus being protective.

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