#maybe years and years later finds some better labels that stick but before that hes just straight vibing. chilling in fact. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nonclassyparty · 11 months ago

Text

tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)

previous chapter

(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)

Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table.

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party.

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!"

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it.

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize.

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk.

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all.

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely.

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid.

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you.

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore.

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic.

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened.

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms.

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis.

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears.

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

He tasted like lemonade.

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff

131 notes · View notes

tj-dragonblade · 11 months ago

Note

Academic Conference au? 👀

Ah, Academic Conference AU my beloved. It's actual title is An Examination of the Benefits of Inter-Departmental Fraternization (by Hob Gadling, PhD) but that's kind of a mouthful so the old label still sticks. I have mentioned this one a lot in various places; it started from the smut prompts 'bed sharing' and '"Then do it already"' and has spawned multiple chapters with a thin semblance of plot by this point. The first chapter is fully drafted but needs a little revision to accommodate details I decided on later. Second chapter is maybe half to two-thirds drafted, and there are outline-y notes and small chunks of chapters three and four. None of it will be posted until the whole thing is done, because I will not finish it otherwise. And also those evolving details I mentioned.

There have been bits and pieces of this scattered in several places over the months I've poked at it and I kind of lose track of what's been shared where BUT. Here is the opening section of the fic, which I don't think has been shared before - at least not in its entirety:

~ "He can share with me."

The grateful look on the poor harried hotel clerk's face is gratifying, but Hob didn't speak up just for her.

Dr. Dream Murphy arches an eyebrow over the chunky black rim of his glasses at Hob, mildly suprised. "Dr. Gadling," he greets, considerably less agitated than just a second before.

"If you're amenable, of course," Hob adds, speaking directly to his colleague now. "It's a single, so we'd still need a rollaway bed—if there's one available?" He glances to the clerk.

"There is," she confirms, fingers flying over her keyboard.

"Perfect. Well?" He turns to Dr. Murphy. "Better than trying to find a room elsewhere? I'll even take the rollaway; you can have the room bed."

Dr. Murphy inclines his head like some kind of old-school royalty. "Very well."

"Brilliant." Hob flashes a smile, directs it back to the clerk. "I'm in 607, Robert Gadling. You can merge his reservation with mine and get him a key, and just send up the extra bed—thanks!"

"Of course." She finishes entering the changes, programs a key card, hands it to Dr. Murphy. "Here you go sir, and again, I'm so sorry for the mix-up—"

"No matter. Thank you," he says, already turning away, and Hob flashes the poor girl one last grateful smile and hurries to follow.

Dr. Murphy says nothing until they are closed in the elevator together, and then he fixes Hob with the crystal blue eyes that have wandered in and out of Hob's daydreams all year. "I. Appreciate your intercession on my behalf, Dr. Gadling."

"Think nothing of it," Hob demurs, shrugging. He catches himself fiddling with his earlobe and drops his hand. "Not like it's her fault they overbooked and gave your room to someone else. Not your fault either. Glad to be passing by with a solution. But." He straightens up, flashes his most winning smile. "If we're going to be rooming together for the whole of this conference, please—call me Hob."

Dr. Murphy does that regal head-incline thing again; his gaze, when it lifts to Hob's, is considering. "Hob," he repeats, like tasting it, and the familiarity stirs a wispy tendril of warmth in Hob’s gut. "Then you must call me Dream."

WIP List

#askmemes #thank you anon!#TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: academic AU

70 notes · View notes

yelenasdog · 3 years ago

Text

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful.

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love.

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system.

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection.

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period.

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up.

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed.

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands.

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.”

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long.

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs.

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder.

“Yeah, Y/n/n.”

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber.

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

xx hj

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #american assassin fic #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brian imagine #mitch rapp x y/n #stiles x reader #we will rock queue #yelenasdog

244 notes · View notes

rouiyan · 4 years ago

Text

𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘙𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘚 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

⧏ part of the 2020 home for the holidays collective ⧐

synopsis: jeno decides that, this time around, he would rather risk heartbreak than love you in silence for seven more years.

✧ lee jeno x (fem.) reader) ✧ childhood best friends to loverz, next door neighbor au, (mentioned college au)

✧ genres : fluff, angst, slight comedy ✧ word count : 19.3k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, underage swearing (?), shirtless jeno, legal alcohol consumption

✧ author’s note — i am unsure as to why you would spend your christmas reading this heckin long fic, but in the case that you do, i hope that you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it. it’s longest fic i’ve written thus far (though only by a hundred or so words) so happy reading <3 and i’ll see you around :D

jeno’s glad his mom’s asked him to go to the grocery store, a two minute walk away, to grab some eggs, a tub of sugar-free yogurt, and a breath of fresh air—the most welcome change of pace to his stuffy bedroom or the dust of the stale garage. he thinks he's the first of his high school graduating class to arrive back in town for the winter but it’s here at the store that jeno sees you for the first time in years. his hand, the right one, clutching an empty basket goes limp and he's two steps away from being fully unconcealed by the far end of the dairy aisle. surely, he must look like a creep with only his head peeping out.

it's been years. your hair is now a faded silvery brown, presumably dyed, and gathered into a messy ponytail. the ends of your hair fight with the hood of your sweatshirt, a distilled blue and loose fitting atop a pair of gray sweats. and the basket, looped upon your left elbow, is as empty as his own but you're overturning a can of condensed milk in your other hand, eyes scrutinizing the packaging for the expiration date, the later the better.

he would go and say hi, maybe even strike up a conversation, ask you how you’ve been, but he can’t bring himself to because he’s wearing that one bright green shirt from his seventh grade math competition that is certainly not up to your liking nor preference. really, it’s not that he thinks you'd judge him, knowing you, you’d probably get a good laugh from it and move on, but things have changed since then.

you are no longer the girl he walked to middle school with everyday in the mornings, in the afternoons. and jeno is no longer the boy that was the same height as you; the glasses are long gone and so is the thirteen year old boy who'd cried at his mom for telling him he'd have to go to a different high school than you. things are different and things have changed.

it was all this, paired with the gut feeling that if he went up to you, shirt stretched out like a muscle tee, he’d simply be cowering in your presence. jeno had not the faintest idea you’d be returning this winter since the last three years were spent without (and the four before, though that was only because he lacked the guts to ring the doorbell three houses down). he sticks his head back before you notice him. rerouting, he goes for a stroll in the chips aisle and then right back to the dairy after he sees the slightest indication of your sweatpant cuffs rounding the corner.

jeno catches his breath there. he gets the goods and makes a beeline for the cash register, keeping his head down and nearly toppling into the display tower of canned corn along the way. the lovely granny at the register, with a nametag labeled 'poppy' on her pink cardigan, is kind enough to check up on his tattered state as she squints at the barcode to scan the yogurt, "young man, are you alright? you're panting awfully hard there."

he only realizes he's spaced out when she repeats with added concern, "sir? do you need some water or-"

"oh, no- i- no, thank you. i'm-" he clears his throat, a plastered smile to aid in his response, "i'm quite alright, thank you." she gives a faltering smile back, one meant to assure, as she discloses his total, "that'll be seven dollars and forty-eight cents." the items are bagged and handed over to him with a receipt. he's in the midst of giving the kind lady a nod in thanks, in the midst of turning and heading in the direction of the exit, in the midst of taking that first step to freedom, the land of no pressures, when he hears your voice from behind, "jeno? is that you?"

well, shit. he swallows thickly. conscious of his every move, he turns deliberately, the plastic bag hanging, swinging to hit his knee and a hand coming up to the scruff of his neck. he turns to see you next in line, smiling and approaching him with paced steps. only, in his mind, it seems as if you are charging towards him at full speed. although conscious of his every move, jeno unconsciously takes a step back. "y- yeah, that's me."

you beam at the words, setting the basket on your hip as you empty the items onto the checkout conveyor belt. "gosh, i knew it!" he sees your favorite gummy worms, a pack of those flamin' hot cheeto fries which are admittedly too spicy for you to handle, both in the mix of what seems to be baking ingredients. dusting your hands off with two definitive swipes, you fist them and set them on your hips, an adorable pose if he were to be honest. hand falling to his side, jeno watches as a corner of your lip lifts into an emerging grin, "so, how have you been?"

he almost coughs as his words tumble their way into air, "i've been well, home for break, you know, from college and stuff." huh, he thinks, not a bad start.

apparently not because you giggle in turn, "well, obviously." the way you gesticulate your hands with each spoken word strikes familiarity within him. "you don't have to be so vague, jen, we were best friends at one point, remember?" the hand is back at his neck as if it never left, the nickname you had used making him squeak, "yeah, of course i remember." jeno watches as you stare for an awfully long time (two seconds) at his shirt. he knows you're just a thought away from commenting on it when dear mrs. pops clears her throat, a half-apologetic smile on her face, "your total will be sixty-four dollars and twelve cents." your eyes go wide, "oh shit- i mean, oh no!" you feel odd swearing around an elderly though you're really only muttering to yourself, "did i buy that much stuff?"

for some odd reason that he's unable to pinpoint just yet, jeno perks up at that and, seemingly involuntarily, offers, "i got you." he slips his wallet back out, eyeing the twenty dollar bill clutched in your hand. jeno holds out a fifty to mrs. poppy and she takes it before you can protest. you protest anyways, "jeno, wait- no, you don't need to- i could just take some stuff out, you know." he merely nods along, a small smile edging upwards on his lips. mrs. poppy hands you the change and your bagged items and you shove the bills towards jeno who, though no longer needed, is just standing there. he refuses with a shake of his head and hand in tandem, leading the way to the exit but before the two of you make it two steps, mrs. poppy smiles wide before mumbling, most likely meant to herself but discernible to your ears anyways, "looks like someone has a crush on you, dearie."

jeno's heart speeds erratically, again for reasons he has yet to comprehend, and his head snaps to make sure you hadn't heard what he'd just heard. eyes wide upon realizing you had, his head snaps back into place to avoid your teasing gaze. jeno utters a curt, "see you around," the second he's out the automated doors and speed walks to his car, the contents of the plastic bag jostling with each ushered step.

the door to his pristine condition '93 chevrolet vette, his baby, shuts behind him. the grocery bag is set in the passenger's seat, mindlessly. jeno starts up the engine but stays put. he can see you across the parking lot, trying to find the keys to your hyundai kona, the white one that's now a certified gray. he chuckles.

he chuckles at the fact that it's been years upon years and you still have yet to fail to put a smile on his face. he chuckles at the fact that it's been years and your cheery, snarky persona has not changed one bit. he chuckles at the fact that he stills finds every aspect of you effortlessly charming, for so many and no reasons all at once. he chuckles at the fact that he still, still feels the need to impress you every chance he gets. perhaps, things haven't changed all that much.

"i'm home!"

shuffling off your shoes, you hear snippets of your mom's voice coming from the living room. a hand on the doorframe, you push yourself up, only to realize that she isn't even talking to you. rather, and upon entering the room, she's on the phone, unaware of your entrance and exclaiming into the jabbed speaker as she crochets a baby blue piece into existence. stepping into her line of vision, you give her a small smile in return to her nod of acknowledgement before moving on into the kitchen.

you've only just finished up with storing the flour into the pantry when you notice your mom has followed you into the kitchen as well, phone supposedly hung up. she sets her elbows, leaning, onto the counter as she watches you put away the baking goods. there's a glint in her eyes that you're wary of. sure enough, "guess what?"

"mom, i'm not interested in going on another blind date. not after what happened last time with that son of your cowork-"

"no, no, nothing like that," and though her words contradict what you thought was to be another stood up date, you're still on edge for the glint in her eyes has anything but subsided, "i was just going to inform you that mrs. lee's son is back in town."

your eye roll reverts itself halfway. crossing the room, you lean opposite of her on the counter. "you mean jeno?" she nods in slight confoundment. "yeah, i just saw him." your mother leans a little further and her voice comes out bordering a whisper though no one is around to hear but you and there's nothing scandalous to what she's saying, "mrs. lee tells me he's almost six feet tall! is that true?" you lean forward as well, not in interest, but in actuality to grab at the nutmeg extract. "pfft, as if. i'd say five eleven at best."

the humor in your eyes is enough to get your mom to defend her trusted source, "oh, i bet he's getting there." you shake your head, "he's twenty-one mom, i doubt he's still growing." turning your back on her to prop open the spice rack, her voice mumbles along, "you never know…" she relents and moves onwards to the next topic in line, eyes eager, "so, did you get to talk to him?"

she's busying herself with tying up the plastic bags for later use as trash can liners when you turn back around, "i did but i mean, it was short," you gesture to the rest of the food you've yet to put away, "but he did pay for most of this." her face is drawn in teasing and she's about to comment on 'how sweet of him that was' when she realizes what you'd just said. "why? did you not have enough money?"

"no, i only brought a twent-"

she hits you lightly with a tied bag before sticking it in the compartment under the sink with a huff, "how dumb can you be to only bring twenty dollars to a grocery store? especially with all that junk food you always buy." now that's the motherly nagging you're more used to. but the teasing comes back soon after when you're upon exiting the kitchen in favor of changing out your clothes. "why don't i make some food for them so you have an excuse to pay him a visit?"

you very clearly remember your mother's propositions of your wedding all those years ago, after you'd gotten your first boyfriend. she didn't even really like him but it was enough that you did. she'd sworn her preparations were all neat and ready when you'd sat her down to tell her that you'd broken up with him. turning on your heel, your mother's eyes expectant, you give her a knowing shake of your head, a warning for ever since that first boyfriend, you'd refused to tell her a thing about your love life, a torturous prospect for her and just the right thing to ward off any of her coming interventions.

as for her incessant questions that were still sure to come, you supply her with this, "i'm sure he'll come visit us first!"

and in some way, you're right.

head and hands on the wheel, you let out the shakiest of breaths, and another and another until the air before you is laden thick with heat. you release the knuckle-white grip that held the wheel, the pads of your finger an angry red. sighing, you let yourself fall back in the seat with your sights set on the blinking red light under the speedometer, your ears ringing at the blaring alarm. another sigh escapes your lips, vaguely resembling a shudder, as you jerk the keys from the ignition. the red light and the alarm cease and you exit your car.

jeno nearly crashes as he turns the corner onto his street. he didn't expect to see you so soon after the horrid scene at the grocery store the other day, the other day being yesterday. he slows the car as he approaches your driveway, rolls down the window of the opposite seat and ducks, only to see you, hands fisted and on your hips, a similar stance to the one he'd seen yesterday; he blushes unknowingly.

the purr of a nearing car sounds from behind and you whip around to catch the red finish of his vette as it comes to a stop along the sidewalk. tucking a lip under teeth, you cross the length of your driveway to meet the boy in the car. the crease in your brow unsettles him. he clears his throat, "hi, y/n. fancy seeing you around here."

"jeno, i live three houses down from you."

he's not in that green shirt anymore, thank goodness, and he'd prepared for this exact scenario with a slightly more put together outfit. the outfit consisting of a hoodie and sweatpants with his socks and sandals. but now that he thinks about it, he still feels slightly underprepared, "that's right…," he does his best to not sound unintelligent, "what happened there?"

"ahh," fisted hands are back on your hips and a war is brewing within him, fighting to keep his composure. you look back at your car, which looks fine to the eye, "apparently i have a flat tire and i-"

"were you driving when it happened?" jeno gets out of his car as he speaks, questions shooting like rapidfire, "was it on the freeway? how bad is it- wait no, are you injured?"

jeno and his furrowed brows are fast advancing on you and you take a step back in surprise but under the guise of moving back towards your car. genuinely, you weren't quite sure why you hadn't thought of jeno being a 'car person,' especially when that's exactly what his car tells of him. "i don't really know but the alarm went off right before i got off the freeway so nothing serious happened." the two of you tread down the side of your house, back up the driveway. "which one is it- oh, i see." jeno bends down the side of the rear left wheel, a solid smack and squeeze applied and he looks up and back at you, "a nail probably, you got a spare?"

you nod, "i'm pretty sure." crossing your legs you cock an eyebrow at him, at your suspicions. there's something about you being right about all your little inklings because he confirms them almost instantaneously, "i can fix it up for you then," a smile eases onto his face as yours perks up, "really? i mean you really don't have to, i can just go get it-"

"how are you gonna get the car to the shop then?"

and that's how jeno finds himself hauling the car jack from his garage, to yours while you cradle the tools needed in both hands, trailing behind him. he gets to work with the wheel cover as you maneuver around your own garage for the spare and when you find it, you sigh. sighs, seem to be very plentiful, maybe a preferred form of communication this one day. "jen," you wedge yourself back to the driveway between your mom's car and the built-in cabinets. jeno's eyes are focused upon the lug nuts but his eyebrows are raised in expectancy.

"gosh, i'm sorry, but it's- the spare's kinda heavy...do you mind? you know…" you feel bad for asking, almost reluctant but with a wave in the general direction of your hands, he gets it well enough, "oh, it's no problem. i'm here to help you anyways." jeno retrieves the tire with a smile on his face.

you stand off to the side and watch as he raises the back end of the car (seven inches, he said), removes the loosened lug nuts, pulls off the flattened tire, and pushes the spare into place. you give remarks and ask questions once and awhile, all of which must seem pretty dumb to him though he answers each one with a smile and a reassurance to make sure you've understood. tightening the bolt, replacing the tire cover, and lowering the car is done within minutes and he's left rubbing his sullied hands on the towel hung upon his shoulder.

jeno stands and looks over at you. the little complacent smile you've put to show tells a lot about how bothersome you feel in the moment. "you don't have to feel bad, y/n. i offered."

you nod as he packs up his things, blindly handing over the wrench and uttering a thank you in your daze. heading inside, you note that the heater is on and that the window next to the door offers a view of the busying boy. you watch as he leaves and you watch as he comes back again to drive his car up into his garage.

there's something about your inclinations that you can't shake. either the fact that you haven't been home in three years is really getting to you, maybe you're just horny, or whatever is brewing in that head of yours is telling you that first loves stick with you even when they're gone, even when you've been given reasons to get over them, and even when you really are over them.

but when they're there, when he's there, in all his glory, there's only so much you can refuse.

thirteen-year-old donghyuck is a mean little shit, that we all know, and when he eventually pieces one and one together to make two, he's bound to act on it.

especially when one is the fact that you've been skipping out at lunch for "group project" reasons for the past two months and the other one is that jeno has also been skipping out at lunch for "club meeting" reasons, also for the past two months. he's dumbfounded at the fact that it's taken him this long to track the two of you down and he almost wants to laugh at the situation at hand.

donghyuck guesses the slats of the bleachers block him out of your view, but he's certainly in the perfect spot to see the both of you, under the bleachers sitting atop jeno's jacket, meaning that there was barely a space in between you and him. his pride would have been hurt, after all his newest revelation comes in the discovery of his two best friends leaving him with jaemin and renjun during lunchtimes, also his best friends but he grumbles at the thought of being left with those two (one being a flirty little shit and the other an annoying little shit, not all that different from himself; you'd think he'd tone down his mean-ness after witnessing, firsthand, renjun's mirror antics).

a hand of yours is flipping through the pages of a textbook while the other holds a subway sandwich, at which he observes jeno to steal bites from every time you look away towards the book. the scene sprawls into a mess as you begin to notice when jeno tugs particularly hard at the string of cheese that's been pulled far too long. the boy gets a flick on the forehead and an impish smile forms; he almost looks elated to be caught by you.

before he even knows it, donghyuck's onto something, and much more than something he can simply tease you about, oh no, this is the real deal. he reroutes his mind to the image he'd retired from—ducking his head back under the cover of the bush—to the image of you and jeno, smiley, giddy, and secluded from everyone else. the image of jeno and the little giggles he gives as red blossoms on his forehead from where you'd flicked him. and the image of you and your suppressed smile as you try to retain your thinly-veiled frustrations from him. this is it, his friends are falling in love. he's convinced and he also has now appointed himself as the wingman, the cupid in disguise.

the thing is, we're talking about donghyuck (mean little shit) here, not jaemin. so when jeno waltzes into his shared sixth period class, spewing some apparent nonsense of how his club meeting went, (perhaps something that you and him had mutually and meticulously coordinated), donghyuck sits him down in the seat next to him and leans in for a whisper, "i'm gonna ask out y/n today, what do you think?"

jeno doesn't respond, he doesn't even seem to have remotely heard him. or if he did, he must've suddenly underwent a malfunction of sorts because the boy is quite literally just sitting there, staring listlessly at the empty beaker and the lab tools in front of him.

"jeno? are you hearing me?"

lee jeno, instead of feeling a sudden urge to race donghyuck to the finish line, to confess to you before he does, rather feels defeated, deflated, discouraged. donghyuck is a terrible judge of his character for he pushes on, "do you think i should do it right after school today or tomorrow?"

he gulps and while his eyes are still deep in rumination, his mouth is already squeaking the worries have come to haunt him in the last thirty seconds, "you like her?" donghyuck's eyes glint with mischief that the heavens wish jeno hadn't missed though fair enough, they think, because his thoughts are all over the place as donghyuck goes on to respond, "yeah, i've liked her for awhile now," sounds familiar," been wanting to tell her for the longest time," me too, "and i've been kinda scared to," well i'm scared shitless, "but i think i'm ready now," i'm not.

"i think you should go for it," jeno deadpans, eyes still trained on the glass, 500 mL beaker that is very interesting.

donghyuck nearly jumps out of his seat, "wait what?!"

"yeah, you should jus- why're you so surprised- no, why are you even asking me?" jeno finds it much easier to play the role of a supportive friend rather than a jealous rival. he thinks it was rather dumb of him to assume that he was the only one going after you all these months and that he could take his sweet time in confessing and growing your relationship. at least, that's usually how his classroom daydreams go.

but at the same time, they only go that way because though it really has been a few long months, jeno knows that he's still a long way from making his sentiments known to you. he's a reliable kind of guy, who's reliance is often built upon trust. and while the little folder in his mind of all the possible telltale signs that you like him back has been steadily growing, he needs to know definitively for really, thirteen-year-old jeno lacks the courage. even more so now that his best friend, donghyuck, displays the exact courage he needs to confess. jeno figures that his folder must be gargantuan in comparison.

donghyuck doesn't confess to you, not at all, but he makes a show of rushing out the class right when the clock strikes three, leaving jeno to collapse into himself in utter despair. shoulders hunched over, he counts the minutes until he deems it safe to leave. his chair scrapes the floor with a resounding squeak as he stands up, the chemistry classroom now empty. running his fingers through his hair, he makes sure he doesn't cross paths with you as he navigates for the exit, purposely avoiding the area of the campus with your locker and last class.

jeno makes it home with a heavy heart, far heavier than what could be the doing of any simple crush. stupid of him to think it a simple crush when the tug of his heart squelches and sqirms like there's no tomorrow, but it's only years after that he realizes the ache in his heart was the payoff of his first love.

he'll admit that he's never asked what actually happened that day, a part of him was terrified to even imagine the prospects of you and donghyuck being a thing. and even if that wasn't the case, he wasn't keen to risk it in the first place.

so jeno cries on the night his mother bore him the news that he'd be transferring schools. he'd have friends there, sure, jaemin had made the same decision and chenle was to follow in the year after. he'd have the opportunity to make new friends, to start fresh as a high school student but the biggest problem he faced was that there would be no you.

no you to greet in the hallways two minutes before class as you rushed your books into your backpack, slamming your locker shut in a frenzy with your elbow. no you to catch dozing off in history, math, english, and probably all the other classes he didn't but wished he shared with you. no you to sneak off with during lunch, far from your noisy (and nosy) friends and a hair's distance apart from each other. no you to stare at when class gets a little too boring, to share an eraser with, to brush fingers with, to steal bites of a sandwich from.

jeno cries because he'll never get the chance to ask you to prom, he's quite sure you'd never want to attend another school's. he cries because he doubts he'll have the fortitude to text you on a daily, to text you at all, to keep in touch. he cries because in his eyes, the dwindling remainders of your relationship are coming to a close.

one day or another, it'll come to him that it was because of those very thoughts that they actually do.

"oh no, no you definitely planned for this to happen."

"did not!"

"so you're telling me that having me go three houses down to ask the boy that you just so happen to think is cute and the same age as your daughter to go tree shopping with me because you can't carry a tree and dad just so happens to be at work right when you desperately need the tree-" your rambling ceases abruptly as you struggle to find the correct structure of your question that, for emphasis purposes, had derailed itself, "...is all just happenstance?"

"yes," your mother has the straightest look on her face. you're sure she's having a hard time keeping it that way. "unbelievable." she keeps the straight face pretty well and the staring contest you're currently participating in with the snowman candle behind her is futile and broken as you grumble, "fine." your mother has the gall to lift her face into a smile almost immediately upon hearing that.

in all honesty, your reflection in the mirror looks pretty damn good. after spending the few of your days back home in tracksuits and large tees—a minimum effort outfit—dressing up a tad bit for today was certainly not a bad idea, your favorite green corduroy coat making its appearance in the december cold.

the same reflection can be seen in the glass of jeno's front door, the door that swings open right as you're about to ring the doorbell for the third time. his mother is the one who answers and she seems a great deal surprised. "y/n! oh wow, you've grown quite a bit since i last saw you."

you giggle with her, partially out of incredulity because of course you've grown, the last time you really saw her was at your middle school graduation. "it's nice to see you, mrs. lee." she opens the door wide, the smile on her face beaming just as wide, "i assume you're here to see jeno. let's see," the door shuts behind you, "he should be over in the garage," and she leads the way through the house, the layout teeming with renewed familiarity.

"the garage is just down there, sweetie," pointing at the door far down the hall, to the left, "tell me if you guys need anything, okay?"

"will do," you give her a warm smile as she treads off.

pushing at the handle, you think first that jeno isn't there at all but then there's the sounds of metal clanking and his legs that are situated outwards from under one end of his car. in a fear to startle him with your presence, you decide upon a clearing of your throat and a small but sure, "jeno, it's me," to which he responds with a surprised grunt and the further clanking of his tools.

there's the squeaking of his mechanic's creeper before he draws himself straight before you. you nearly give a double take because, well because he's without a shirt, he's shirtless, he's half naked. however you want to put it, it's the dead of winter and he's standing there with his toned chest bare and glinting with sweat while the two of you furiously blush without even looking at each other.

"y/n," his voice comes out strained, "wha- what are you here for?" jeno fusses around hurriedly for a shirt, any shirt, any article of clothing, any piece of fabric. the shirt he eventually finds is almost enough to get him to put it back down but he's desperate. your eyes glimpse across his body once again, and entirely on accident, before he slips the bright green material over his head, your own head snapping in the other direction.

the two of you stand diagonally in opposition to each other, seemingly speaking to no one in particular, "i'm- i came to ask if you'd want to go christmas tree shopping with me? since i don't think i'd be able to by myself…?" you turn towards him, the tension in the air somewhat subsiding, the difference a mere shirt could make.

he stance is awfully rigid as he responds, "yeah, no yeah i can definitely go with you. right now though?"

"if it's not too much to ask of you then yes, right now."

"oh okay, i can do that, i jus-" jeno catches your line of vision dip down to his shirt, he squirms under your gaze, "-i, do you mind waiting for a bit while i get washed up?" eyes flitting back up to meet his, you nod fervently, "fine by me."

the shower runs in the background of your thoughts as you swing your legs off the side of jeno's bed, the same bed he had all those years ago that's sill littered with random pencil marks and stickers on the headboard. the walls adorn large prints of cars, none of which you can identify but you're intrigued nonetheless by how well his childhood room entwines his whole lifespan together. there's mvp trophies on the bookshelf just opposite of you and if you squint, you can see the fine print that spells 'lee jeno, 2015 varsity swim mvp.' a certificate on the wall titles his participation in some algebra competition, a few ribbons to demonstrate his scientific achievements, and a little under where those are pinned into the wall is a framed and familiar picture you haven't seen in a long while.

it's the five of you, eighth grade graduation, with mark behind the camera and chenle and jisung far off in the background. jeno's in the dead center with one arm draped around donghyuck and the other around you, though you're noticing for the first time how the arm around donghyuck falls limp while the arm around you is held tight. gears are turning and shifting in your mind but before you can come to any sort of conclusion on what that could possibly denote, the door to the bathroom on your left is held open.

jeno's dressed fittingly, you think, for christmas tree shopping that is. the green of his sweater matches the green of your jacket and jeno makes sure to comment on that as he reverses his car out of the driveway even though his choice in clothing was deliberately made to match your own. he catches a glimpse of your car in your own respective driveway on the way out the street and at that, he already has another conversation queued and in mind.

"you took your car to the shop, right?"

you find that your eyes dry out if you face them forward for too long, the heat blasting from the front is doing its job well enough. you don't complain though, jeno's just making sure it's not too cold in the car. "yeah, i went this morning. was also going to get it washed but my mom had other plans."

"other plans being making you go buy the tree, i'm guessing."

you click your tongue, "exactly."

silence hangs between the two of you as he veers into the freeway entrance, mulling over what to say next. bring two seven years disconnected best friends together and you'd think there'd be more to talk about but today must be an exception, the only other words exchanged being the following.

"you know, i could wash it for you."

"i've already asked you for too many favors."

"i mean," jeno gives a smile to the side, "you could help."

a smile of your own forms as you muse on, "i could."

"tomorrow?"

"tomorrow."

jeno pulls into a makeshift parking space for the vast christmas tree lot you've decided to buy from this year, your usual having moved further out of town disappointingly. although with all things considered, you doubt there's much of a difference between the trees that are leftover for the few days before christmas and as suspected, the selection isn't all that impressive.

your town and neighboring seemed to have taken a liking towards fraser firs this year, no surprise in that, which leaves the dilapidating alternatives of douglas and noble firs, both of which would be fine if one wasn't prone to browning in a week and the other wasn't so tall. jeno holds up the last of the trees up and you do your routine inspection by viewing it from three feet away to seven, and ten. the boy scrunches his nose as you give a shake of your head, "too full, how are we even gonna decorate it?" and he sets it back against the fencing with a huff, "now what?"

"now, we…," you're unsure as well, eyes roving across the farm to give any candidate of tree a second chance. that's when you're hit with a revelation, well two revelations. rather sardonically, the wilting pines of the trees lead you to the first of your revelations; you're quite literally standing in a tree graveyard and if you were to go so far as to compare it to a graveyard in itself, there comes the thought that you've came with the purpose of buying a poor, dead tree to take it home and prop it back up as if it were alive, dressing it and decorating it, only to throw it to the curb a few weeks later. funny how all your life that seemed perfectly rational.

but christmas is a tradition, and traditions don't necessarily have to die even though they're faulted from the start, certainly not if you can help it.

jeno gives an eensy yelp as in a sudden flurry, you take the sleeve of his sweater between two fingers and drag him down and through the aisles of decaying trees to find the very thing that'd ignite your little light bulb. he's dawdling behind you, best he can, as your steps quicken and stop almost as abruptly before a sizeable army of potted christmas trees, smaller but also more alive than the usual lot. "how's this then?"

"i'm on board," jeno's beside you now and ever-so-aware that your fingers are still gripping his sweater. it doesn't stop there, however, because now your hands are enveloping his arm in its entirety and you're speaking softly, "of course you are, you're not even needed anymore," the words coming close to his ears from the proximity you've set. they don't warrant a blush by any means and for certain, the reason he's blushing aren't the words, it's you.

you leave his side as you release your hold on his arm, though it seems as if he's the only one who notices. a few steps away, you crouch in front of one that suits your likings to a T. you barely notice jeno's presence behind you, reading off the tag and muttering to yourself, "sustainable, affordable, replantable, eco-friendly, a natural scent, convenient...oh boy, i think we get it." upon further observation you decide that this one's the one—the green is vibrant to the tips and it's just full enough that the pines poke out in all the directions needed to support a modest amount of tinsel. "jeno, i think this is it-"

really, you really really had no idea that he was right there, head right above your shoulder. if you had known, you wouldn't have turned your head in the first place, much less allowed your lips to brush his, however brief. evidently flustered, the two of you snap your sights back ahead, at the same time, with both your hearts beating at the same, turbulent pace. you bring a hand up to your lips, partially in shock and partially in the thought that you basically just kissed lee jeno.

"sorry about that, i didn't think you'd turn…"

even when he's speaking, you don't dare look over at him. but in comparison to the tempestuous replays you're imagining, jeno's thoughts rumble a deeper current than anything he's felt all winter break.

the pot of the chosen tree rests against his hip as he stands a little off to the side to let you pay. he watches you keenly and uses the opportunity to scrutinize what exactly about you makes him feel that one way. as of the late, he finds that none of his emotions are describable and it's frustrating to say the least when all he knows is that the cause of his inner turmoil is you. you and your little sniggers whenever his clumsy side acts out too much for his liking, you and your undeniable affection for all things sweet and all things spicy, and you and your fisted hands on your squared hips, a fighting stance perhaps, a ready-to-throw-hands stance most definitely.

but finally, he gives his feelings a name when he witnesses in the rear view mirror, you and the little smile that creases your eyes, lifts your cheeks, bares your teeth, as you strap in the potted plant to the back seat, giving it a gentle pat as if it were your own child. he names it 'the long lost crush, the one that got away, the second season of his middle school one-sided affair, the-'

"are we...gonna go?"

jeno jumps in his seat, "huh? oh." hand on the gear stick, he avoids your gaze fervently and pulls out of the spot. there's a shift in the air, at least from his end, and he thinks it has something to do with how he's come to terms with the fact that he likes you, again. is he surprised? no. why not?

because he knows this much, the longer you're by his side, the less it can be helped. he remembers every night in high school when, even in the time the two of you'd stopped talking, he'd stare lethargically at his ceiling before he went to sleep and imagine you by his side. he remembers another handful of nights in college when, long after he'd thought he was well over you, he still found himself rethinking your smile and refiling that folder of his. time carried on, and though he didn't necessarily have a heartbreak for it to heal, it wouldn't have mattered anyways because in his case, time could never heal. not for him and not in the face of you.

so jeno laughs along with you when he trips over your front steps, he sets both hands on the doorframe and leans in ever so slightly to say his goodbyes, and when the door shuts behind him, he takes a good look back over his shoulder anyways, hoping that you'd pop your head at the window, that you'd catch his lingering gaze. jeno's steps are resolute because he's not thirteen anymore. it's no longer about whether you like him back or not, it's about dealing with the fact that he likes you. and if his coping mechanisms come in the form of pushing his bounds as just a friend, flirting an obscene amount, and perhaps even confessing, then so be it.

jeno decides that, this time around, he would rather risk heartbreak than love you in silence for seven more years.

propping a knee, you catch the back end of the trash bin before it can thud on the pavement beneath you. a huff and a grunt are uttered into the air as you push it against the fenced side of your house, to the curb. you slide it against the elevated sidewalk, down onto the road, and it gives a resounding thump as it hits the ground. you dust off your hands and pivot to retrieve the last one and upon setting that one down in the spot adjacent to the previous, in the corner of your eye is perceived a figure.

born of instinct, you almost rush back into the house, a case of kidnap tends to loom when you're a young adult female taking out the trash in the dead of night. but another glance is given and the silhouette draws familiar notion, broad shoulders and especial proportions, not to mention the bright green you catch in the light of his porch lamp. it's jeno, and a hand of his clamps over his nose as the other thrusts a plastic bag into the black bin. and it's when he turns to retreat into his residence that his eyes catch you as well and he jumps a bit, recollects himself, waves, and watches as you wave back in the hopes that he could maybe approach you.

instead, he finds that you're the one approaching him and that somehow makes it all the more nerve-wracking as he rushes to meet you in the middle. even a simple, "hi," from you makes his cheeks grow warm. he's breathless when he speaks, and not because of the brisk actions he undertook prior, "hey there."

"are we still on for tomorrow?"

jeno's mouth parts as he retraces his memory to extract what exactly was planned for tomorrow. "ahh, yeah i can do tomorrow...morning?" you clasp your hands behind your back as you nod along, "morning it is then." your lips quirk to the side as you place your gaze on anything but him, to pass time, perhaps to make the silence a little more bearable. jeno's voice is so low the next he speaks, it almost spooks you out of your wits, "have you met up with any of the boys yet?"

his eyes keep their track on you as you take a few steps to the edge of the curb, lowering yourself atop it, "well, i hung out with hyuck the other day," you motion for him to sit beside you and he follows suit, "and i think he mentioned wanting to do some reunion thing at his house. i don't know, i'll have to ask." jeno stirs in his thoughts for the time being. hyuck. though he'd kept in touch with the boy after middle school and a bit after high school, even his name brings up a shitload of memories. "have you?"

"huh?" his eyes whirl to meet yours, "oh. for me, mostly just jaem, and renjun too the other day."

conversation seems to flow intermittently between you two, ongoing or nonexistent at all, for another lapse of silence is thrown into the mix. the air is certainly not governed by awkwardness, jeno feels that the time you've spent with him in the last few days guarantees at least that. but it's also laden with a sort of tension you can't quite place, a territory you're unwilling to traverse into. you move past your thoughts and voice only a sliver of them aloud, suppositionally, "if- if we do meet up, like all of us, do you think it'll be weird?"

"weird how?"

"weird as in…well, a lot's changed, since we were thirteen, and we haven't been in a room together all at once, since we were thirteen."

"i don't know. i think," he shrugs, "i think we'll be fine, me and you at least." jeno likes saying 'we' when it pertains to you and him. he mumbles it over a few times, under his breath, and though it's not entirely out of your earshot, you're far too busy taking long and zoned-out glances at him to notice. that in itself is something he surely notices.

undoubtedly, you must not be the only person in the world to think that jeno grew up well. lee jeno is kind, kind enough to grant you all the favors you've asked of him. lee jeno is warm, you feel he emanates warmth even by simply sitting by his side. lee jeno is sincere, his smiles beam of genuinity and his words are coated in truth. and in the spotty moonlight, flitting in between the boughs of the tree just above, lee jeno is good looking, chiseled jaw, pretty lips, those eyes. but more than that, he lives up to his good looks. you can only wish you'd been there to see him grow up, to grow up with him.

"jen?"

"yes?"

you tap your toes alternatingly on the scratchy pavement, your eyes and his as well are trained on them. licking your lips, you take your gaze from your feet to his side profile and your breath hitches before you speak, "what...what happened to us?"

jeno reverts his eyes onto your own, "what do you mean?" now you're staring right at each other which is usually how any conversation should be, but conversations between you and him seem to always be an exception. fiddling with your fingers, you trace your sights back down to your feet, "you said that we'd keep in touch. well, we both said that."

in truth, as much as the distance that divided the two of you could be denoted from his seemingly unrequited feelings for you, there was much less of a romantic touch in what happened for the most part. for the most part, things panned out as they usually do when two people, once close and once sworn to never not be close, end up being separated by the one thing that brought them close in the first place. that is not to say that your friendship with jeno had no value outside of school and school-related things but really, school was the one thing that made it so you saw the boy day in and day out, shared with him an intimacy that could only be reached with that basis of interaction. more than any derivative of feelings that could drive the two of you apart, your friendship was split by the common ground idea that people come and go. perhaps it was fate that wielded the sorts, perhaps it was merely meant to be. and if you were to chalk it up to fate, you could say that meeting jeno again, like this, was fate as well.

but jeno here, twenty-one-year-old jeno as opposed to thirteen-year-old jeno, would like to come clean with his feelings. at least his feelings of way back when, because this turn of the conversation had churned a past within him that he had yet to be willing to unearth; that is, until now as he susurrates, "because i liked you." jeno feels his eyes gloss over involuntarily, "and with the whole high school transfer and everything, it just kinda all fell apart."

he looks to the other side, as naturally as he can, but there's the unmistakable shuffle of feet from behind him and when he turns back around, sure enough, you've inched closer than his current mental state can handle. you watch as jeno blinks, his eyes lain upon your lap, and a tear proceeds to trace its merry way down his cheek. you catch it with the sleeve of your sweatshirt but even after he's cried through his emotions, your hand stays there, cupping his cheek.

the tips of your fingers protrude from the fabric of the sleeve and they, your thumb in particular, swipe across the heights of his cheeks and the bags under his eyes. your own eyes are soft on his, soft in knowing and in understanding because, "well if it offers you any comfort, i liked you too."

jeno, though fresh in the surprise of revelation, feels an ease pool his mind. he takes a hand and brings it to cup the side of your face as well, mirroring your actions with an equal, loving gaze that holds the memoirs of your cherished past. a past that no longer tugs at his mind, begging for his attention, that no longer muddles his afflictions between what is new and what is old, and a past that he can now move on from, with renewed finality.

you break the exchange with a breathy laugh. a smile stretches across his face. the one hand on his face turns into two and the same is applied to you sequentially. two twenty-one-year-old college students sit on the curb in front of a house that belongs to neither of them but rather lies in between their respective homes. they sit side by side, their eyes boring deeply into one another's and, with both hands clamped on the cheeks of the other, occasionally squishing to produce the silliest of expressions, they laugh and they imbue in the elation of being at peace with their entwined pasts.

when you stand first, brushing off the dust on your bottom, jeno, still sitting, catches your wrist and lets the quirk of his lips and a small, "thank you," express the lengths at which the conversation had gone in its endeavors to mend a somewhat dysfunctional relationship. but now in full functionality, jeno wonders if his feelings still persist.

and if there's one thing to tell him they do, that they're as present as ever if not more so than before, it's the way he blushes warm when you entangle his grip on your wrist into your hand, giving his palm a brief squeeze before you look down upon him with an enraptured smile of your own. he watches you take your leave and, in the blackness of night, he thinks you are the most personable being to have ever walked in his life. he thinks he wouldn't mind another seven years, though only if he was promised to have you by his side the whole while.

"you mind if i tag along?"

yeah, i mind. jeno clicks his tongue, "no."

"you sure?" hyuck edges him on, nudging his old friend with the end of the hose. jeno can only roll his eyes at that, taking the hose from him, "not like i have a choice if she brought you here in the first place." jeno, while watching you roll up the windows of your dirtied car, can't help but wonder why you had to bring this damned boy. he really thought that after such a heartfelt moment the two of you shared just the past night, you would have been more open to venturing into alone, one on one, time with him. he does his best to clip back the snarky tone that's just waiting to be let aloud whenever donghyuck speaks.

"so who do you think's gonna be third wheeling today? me or you?"

"you," jeno bleats with not a second to spare. though he's sure the boy means it all in good-natured fun, jeno's dead serious when he says, "guess we'll just have to see who prevails."

and that, oh dear, that is sure to bring out the competitive temper of the one and only lee donghyuck, winner of all games ever played. jeno knows he's perhaps just dug a hole for himself, a shovel in hand and all, because right off the bat, hyuck is off to hog all of your attention and very rarely does he fail with his witty remarks and his position as 'most recent best friend.' in fact, he's right in the middle of telling you what is sure to be the joke of the century when the idea pops into jeno's mind, a godsend.

he turns the knob on the hose to its fullest power before trudging off to the dial, his absence going unnoticed as you laugh at whatever hyuck has just said. donghyuck's turning to see if jeno has caught yet another point he's scored when he's met with a forceful discharge of water square to his face. it's four seconds of just standing there before hyuck remembers that he has the miraculous abilities of mobility, and upon moving out of the way in a terrible coughing and choking fit, the spray of the hose lands upon you.

jeno gives a squeal that's comparable to yours as you snatch the second hose from donghyuck's limps hands, his body now wilted rather dramatically across the hood of your car, and point it to jeno, dousing him full as you charge right at him. he doesn't move, to your liking and more because he feels bad for having just accidentally drenched you in freezing cold hose water in the dead of winter. the punishment he has willingly subjected himself to is also freezing cold, bone-chilling, and numbing to the core. but he doesn't mind it nearly as much when the gush of water hitting his chest stops and he runs a hand through his hair, clearing his eyes to reveal your smiley, smiling face that looks to be having way too much fun in the face of hypothermia.

he's left kneeling when the water clears and you are as well, though while he's kneeling from the sheer force of the deluge, you're kneeling out of laughter. trudging over to your spot a little ways from him, the blades of the grass of your front lawn beneath tickling the skin of his kneecaps, jeno blithely lifts a few stray and wet strands of hair out of your face, tucks them behind your ear. your laughter subsides into gentle smile, one that erupts into giggles recurrently, and jeno has the gall to steal a look a donghyuck, who has since recovered and is now staring at the scene itself, eyebrow cocked and a tongue jutting out his cheek in a challenge he gladly takes up on.

jeno returns from inside his house with the two towels he had his mom fetch, only two because in his eyes, it's only fair that donghyuck doesn't get one. needless to say, hyuck's displeased as he watches jeno pat and dry your hair as you sit, propped atop the hood of your car. jeno isn't all that surprised when his own towel gets stolen from his shoulder and the boy also props himself onto the hood, next to you. funnily enough, jeno's now the one who's displeased because you've taken the towel from donghyuck's hands and instead of using it to dry the damp ends of his own hair, like it was intended to be, you turn slightly and echo jeno's actions, but instead on hyuck.

and while jeno's nose scrunches in a distaste that only hyuck catches, his eyes seemingly everywhere all at once, you turn a tad bit further to the side to reach the back ends of hyuck's head of hair. jeno complains as your own head moves a little too far for his positioning and a hand leaves the towel to move you back into place. that meaning his left hand holds solid on your right thigh. that also meaning the sudden halt of your actions, jeno's too, as donghyuck simply stares, observes, analyzes, comes to a realization, and smirks.

jeno also comes to a realization that his hand is still, still on your thigh, shown in how his hand snaps back into the oblivion and beyond, and how the tips of his ears are exceedingly quick to flush a cherry red. his thoughts of just yesterday, 'get the girl!,' are now very much diminished as his stare fixates on the ground and the ground only, even as you ask for him to move a little to the right so you could slide off the hood, even as hyuck excuses himself to the guest bathroom, though his hand is quick to fish out his phone before he even enters the house. jeno's eyes are unmoving, even as time resumes around him, and even though he understands how crazed he must look in your eyes. he understands, but that's about it because it's nothing that can be helped.

you quirk a brow at the boy, eyes a flood of worry, and with those same eyes on him, lee jeno, in the middle of winter, begins to sweat. it starts at the palms, a sticky, tacky feeling but then he feels it creep at the back of his neck, coming in the form of a shiver of nerves. and although those two remain unnoticed, you bring a hand to his wrist to catch his attention because the beads of sweat forming along his temple have caught yours. "jeno, are you okay? you seem to be…"

jeno lifts his gaze from the floor, a feat no doubt, and brings his eyes to yours. there are many things he notes. one, the worry in your eyes irks him, he despises even more that he's the cause of it, however silly. two, your hand remains at his wrist, unsure in the lightness of touch but assured in how it stays put nonetheless. three, your lips, they're very pretty; an observation that he's always been aware of, but when your face is only a rough seven inches from his own, the observations become a fact, ingrained in his mind for now and forevermore whenever he so much as looks at you. though more unconscious, there's a four. he wants to kiss you. and in a way that's quite far from the simple, accidental brush of lips he'd shared with you just the day prior. it's significantly far, a dot in the distance.

he almost goes in for it.

"do you mind if i shower at your place? it's fucking cold."

you remove your hand from his wrist, jeno's fingers twitch in longing to reach after it. with your own fingers absentmindedly toying with the cinched waistband of your sweats, you shift your weight from one foot to another. remarkably, only your top half was drenched but that in itself was sure to trail little shivers up your spine. jeno avoids your gaze, feverishly, hand coming up to the nape of his neck. he mumbles a short, "sure," before turning upon his heel, leading into the house.

while hyuck is in the guest bathroom, you venture into the one through jeno's room which is noticeably cleaner since the last you were there. he tells you to wait there while he messes around in the bathroom, cleaning, but he leaves that detail out. one leg crossed over another, you bunch up the soaked hems of your shirt so as to not drip everywhere, standing there in apprehension and also halfway in the dark with the slatted blinds above his bed turned shut, the only source of light being the little that slips in between the slats. resolutely, you cross the room and gingerly lean a knee into the bed, reaching for the handle to twist them open. that's when you see it, slung upon the footboard of his bed.

that's also when jeno calls, voice distant and steps in a hurry as he pronounces, "i'll get you a shirt from my closet, hold up." but as he emerges from the bathroom, it seems that you have different plans. his eyes go wide as he sees the one, unfortunate garment he'd forgotten to put away this morning in your hands. yes, the bright green shirt from that one seventh grade math competition, with the now faded and very corny geometry joke proudly displayed on the front. it's that one that his mom asks him all the time why he never throws it out even though it's been years. he almost lets it show how he sulks into himself because they're his pajamas, and for a reason that he knows that you know and, to him at least, it's all the more embarrassing when you know. there's a lot of almosts today because jeno almost shits himself at the thing you say next.

"can i wear this one instead?"

the shy glint in your eyes and the light smile that glosses over your expression are all he needs to say, "sure," it comes out nonchalant but jeno is freaking the fuck out internally. you asking to wear that specific shirt suddenly made all the embarrassment garnered from it seem significantly less embarrassing.

he sits on the edge of his bed as the sounds of the shower going skirts his thoughts. feet kicking up and down, back and forth down the side, jeno sighs with his bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. he's directly opposite and in line with the one picture on the wall he couldn't dare put away in his prior and precautionary cleaning in the case that you would come over once again. the edges of the photo are frayed with time and brash handling, seen even in its frame, but if anything, the memory of it is intact as ever.

jeno thinks of all the things that would have gone differently, had he confessed to you that day as he planned he would. graduation day it was, and it was cloudy and on the verge of raining but his spirits weren't dampened in the slightest, clapping the loudest as you crossed the stage to shake hands with the principal, head awkwardly facing the crowd as your father had implored you to do so for his picture. his spirits were far dampened when you returned to your seat, a row ahead and a few down from where he was himself, mouthing a, "stop it," in annoyance as he mimicked your ungainly actions from just before. he felt that his spirits could never be dampened as he returned to his own seat, looking over in your direction automatically as you posed a thumbs up and another mouthing, this time an, "i'm proud of you," before getting caught by a passing supervisor and being forced to turn back around with a huff.

jeno remembers his spirits plummeting as he sat with you under the bleachers, for the last time, half his body situated on his jacket and the other on the scratchy grass. he didn't mind it as long as you were fully atop it yourself. despite what his quick wikiHow search on 'how to confess your love to someone,' there was no surge of confidence, not one stroke of it within him. he gave small smiles to your animated talking and the bare minimum of responses when prompted. and when you'd fished your phone out of your back pocket at the sound of a ping to see your mom texting you to go back to the field for pictures, he took your helping hand as he stood but even then, he couldn't dare be bold enough to keep your hand in his. with an arm set loosely across the back of donghyuck's shoulder and the other across yours, he made sure to hold you tight by his side, for fear and acceptance that this would be the last time he would have you there, by his side.

but as his gaze is pulled away from the picture, instinctively towards the sound of the door being propped open, jeno's reminded that, for now, you're all for his taking as long as he's up for the challenge. he watches as you linger by the door for a second, lip tucked under teeth yourself as you contemplate your next steps, next words. and as jeno watches, the shirt hanging tight on his figure but loose on yours, he can't help but think that this time around, he's in it to win it.

forms clutched in your left hand, all of them filled out in your neat, pencilled handwriting, you tap your toes impatiently. the line that you were currently in, placing at about the middle, was long and not at all to your liking. against your best wishes, your parents really had the gall to sign you up for this; you have foolproof evidence that math is your weakest subject, the foolproof evidence being a years and years accumulated stack of report cards. they claimed it was for you to get some extra practice and you'd countered that the annual math competition at your middle school was only really for the people in the advanced math placement, which you were most certainly not. you were still forced to go, though you declined the offer to buy the gaudy green shirt, but you were also right in saying that because none of the people in the line, at least of those in front of you, were from your class. you look towards the back end of the line to check the same so that you could provide extra evidence to your conviction, not that you were going to really need it after you took the test but you would like something to pair with your lacking results when rubbing it in to your dad later.

at first glance, there's no one really that you can spot but then you look at the person directly behind you and what you don't expect is it to be that one kid that is indeed in your class, your low level math class. he's quite the sight and you wonder why he didn't catch your eye earlier with his hair sticking up in all directions as he frightfully balances on one leg, his other hiked up and being used as a makeshift table. upon closer inspection, the paper he's furiously writing upon looks to be akin to your filled out form, only it's not filled out at all.

twelve-year-old jeno feels your gaze on him, and though he's verily preoccupied with writing, he's much more intrigued by your interest in him. head snapping up in a sudden movement and snarky in his greeting, "got something to say?" and it reminds you a little too much of hyuck to simply let it pass, "yes, i do." no, you actually don't so the empty pause you leave is in search of anything relevant. when you do happen upon something, your continuation is in equal snarkiness, "your hair's a mess."

at that, he stands up straight and you note how at the age of twelve, the boy is annoyingly taller than you, "shoot, really?" a hand rushes to pat down the straight strands in a hurry. a mild surprise lines your countenance at how the snarkiness ends there, watching as he furthers his comments, "i was in a rush this morning, that's probably why," and when you, again, have nothing to add, he goes to say, "renjun told me about this competition and i just had to do it."

now it's confusion that can be seen in your bewildered stare, you only knew about this since your mom is pta (parent teacher association) president; the competition, though advertised as open to all seventh graders, was only really promoted to the higher level math students, namely renjun and his lot. the kid, whose name you place to be jeno, friend of renjun's who's a friend of hyuck's, is now expectant in a response from you, less the conversations take a turn for the worse. you provide something short but enough to compose your inquiries, "why? who would want to do this?"

a part of you already knows. lee jeno, though you know little of him, sits at the front of your math class and never forgets to bring his glasses to school. a pencil is almost always in his hand when he raises it to ask a question at least ten times per lecture which is also the only reason you actually know of him because unlike him, you don't pay much attention at all in math class. jeno raises his eyebrows and replies as if his reasoning was common knowledge, "well i thought it'd be fun!"

"fun?"

"yeah!"

"fun how?"

jeno's standing complacently but his hands are making vague motions, "because you know…," a hands comes to the nape of his neck and he whispers as if his utterances were frowned upon for a lower level math student. to you they are indeed. "i like math."

"yeah no shit, you're the only one who participates in math." his eyes widen at your profanity, head snapping to see if anyone had heard. upon realizing something else, he motions for you to move forward, neither of you had noticed the line had started progressing onwards.

jeno's still on edge, eyes peering side to side to make sure no teacher had passed while you spat such a vulgar word, "shhh, what if someone hears you?!" a coy smile creases your eyes, you decide that you're certainly very fond of this boy, or at least you're very fond of teasing him. "then how about...damn?" jeno's startled. "ass?" jeno looks like he's on the verge of shitting his pants. thus you go on, "another shit?" the twelve-year-old's mouth drops wide open, "y/n-"

"asshole, dickhead, son of a bitch, mother fucker, your mom's puss-"

he's rushing right up to you and before you can proceed, jeno's hand is clamped tight over your mouth. "y/n, that's-" and as if he weren't already a close seven inches away from you, he leans in further and you swear his lips graze the side of your cheek as he whispers, "y/n, that's illegal," and suddenly and in your eyes, the humble, wide-eyed boy that you'd only thought to tease of has you floored with his gaze locked on yours, breath fanning across your skin. he looks good, even at twelve years, lee jeno is easy on the eyes.

you gulp, push him off, and turn back around to the line that'd moved up four people since the last you'd moved, leaving jeno to stand there, hands limp by his side and in complete neglectance of his still half-filled out form. it takes thirty or so seconds for him to move up in the line as well, the mutters from the people lagging behind him also going unnoticed. and when he does notice, taking a few steps forward and once again hiking his leg up to be used as a viable writing surface, it's only after he spent those same thirty seconds spaced out in aftershock of why he did that, or rather, where the sudden surge of confidence came from that had him in the position in the first place. perhaps that's the first time that jeno ever thinks of you a little differently, only because there's something about you makes it so he does things a little differently, makes it so he can't simply act normally around you.

and perhaps you've also undergone the same predicaments because you pay extra attention when the test is handed out, and the way your brows pull together with your eyes trained on the paper tells a lot about those normally divergent acts. you're the last to turn it in, even after the bookish jeno, and when he takes a glance at you across the room as he returns to his seat, a little smile creeps its way upon his lips.

the same smile is there when you plop down next to him in math class the following monday, right at the front of whiteboard, and there goes the tug of his heartstrings when you lean over, eyes in wonderment, to ask him a thing or two about hypotenuses or some of the sort which he more than happily obliges. jeno beams when you hold him back after class to show him your score on the unit final he'd tutored you for and he beams the year after that when the two of you both climb the ranks into the prestigious advanced level placement.

for many reasons, jeno proved to be a blessing in your life. your parents loved him specifically for the studiousness he instilled within you, something neither of you have ever pointed out but are in mutual understanding of. jeno was by your side through your traumatic first post-breakup stage, the douche of a boyfriend, or rather another twelve-year-old boy, had dumped your ass after two and a half days. jeno was the one who coughed into your ear during that one fateful game of telephone, the one played on the bus to the museum field trip; he'd defeated, and i mean absolutely crushed, donghyuck in a game of rock, paper, scissors to win the spot next to you, still a feat he considers one of his many prides to this day. jeno was the one who picked at your food, but also magically produced his own to share whenever you were without a lunch.

lee jeno was the epitome of right person, right time, and even though the same sentiments weren't carried all the way through, were interrupted, displaced, all the things he gave you, left for you, they stayed.

lee jeno remembers the day he met you with keen lucidity. he remembers all the days after that in a chorus of feelings that swept him in the most unintelligible way, after all, who expects to fall so deeply in love at the age of twelve. at twelve you'd think the thing you'd be most worried about would be having fun before high school, occasionally grades, or maybe even the changing appearances that come with puberty and puberty in itself. for a good chunk of it, jeno thought that his feelings could be explained by puberty but it proved especially ignorant of him to think the same in high school when his feelings that persisted were only sustained by the mere memory of you.

maybe it wasn't from day one, by no means was it love at first sight, second sight, or even third or fourth or fifth, but it was the succession of some inevitable process, the day you met through the day you graduated. to finish a thought, maybe lee jeno could have claimed spot as your boyfriend of seven years, had he not yielded in the face of profession. perhaps, you would have broken up already, the simple outcomes of distance and the natural order of relationships. would he have let you go? or would it have been you to call it off?

it's unfortunate that he'll never know, no matter how much he wonders, but of all the things he's sure of in the moment, it's that your laugh is the prettiest thing known to man, known to him. your feet dangle a significant amount over the edge of his bed, stark from his own toes that are stagnant and grazing the floor. he doesn't look over at you and his mumbles say enough of why, "i'm not kidding, y/n- don't laugh at me! i'm being serious, you really do."

"really now, you're telling me that i look good in your old pajamas. as if it weren't just to tease me."

"really!" his voice hits a pitch higher and he clears his throat, a scrunch of his nose at your laugh follows and denotes much regret in how he accidentally spoke his thoughts aloud in the first place. you really can't tell but he's trying his best to get in a few compliments, he'd heard that girls like flattery (he didn't hear, per se, he'd seen it somewhere online—read: wikiHow). "you look far better in it than i ever would."

with his hands on either side of him, jeno pushes himself upwards the bed, lowers his back upon the sheets, and folds his hands across his stomach. he didn't expect as such but you do the same. it's now that his heart sees it fit to speed its pace, only because of that one pesky thought that's infiltrated his mindset. you're in bed with him after all, and though it's nothing close to what would be considered crossing the line as two friends, the thought itself is enough to ignite a fervid warmth through his cheeks. his eyes are rigid on the ceiling when you speak, "do you even remember where this is from?" they itch to look over at you but he's afraid it'll be too obvious then; his plan is to woo you, not to make a fool of himself.

jeno senses the sheets stir from beside him and he can only guess what position you've assumed, and hopefully not the one where you're facing him while his everything is still aligned straight ahead. he hopes it's not because if it were, he'd be missing out on one of those *romantic moments* that he so wishes to achieve. jeno's inability to think straight, about positioning, hinders his ability to respond, something that's only brought to his attention when you perk up again, "jeno? did you hear me?"

jolted, his eyes instinctively snap to yours in the sense that yes, now he's facing you and yes, he sees that you're facing him also. there seems to be a little something lodged in his throat when he replies because it comes out as if his neck were a squeaky toy that'd just been stepped upon. "of course," he clears his throat with a grunt, "that math competition, seventh grade." jeno concludes that that something in his throat must be his heart because he can quite literally hear its beating in his ears and feel its thrum through his organs. he licks his lips and sits in silence, save the thumps of his heart, as his eyes trace to your own lips, not seven inches away.

"that's...that's when it all started," you muse, a hand coming up to brush a hair from your face and hitting jeno's chest on its way, as if just to remind him of how close you are. "i mean, for me that is."

pushing his rather uncivilized thoughts from his mind, jeno gives a, "what do you mean?" before dutifully returning to glancing at your lips. if you notice, you don't comment upon it, choosing rather to answer promptly, "i think that's when i started to like you." he gulps and says just about the same, "me too." jeno's nerves think they are just about ready for whatever is thrown his way but not until a leg of yours moves to nudge his gently. "wow, it's like we're meant to be." his nerves, they must be on fire now and just about ready to take on the whole world in its entirety because he notes with keen incredulity that your use of 'we're' could indicate that you still like him, the possibilities of it being an 'are' versus a 'were' are only fifty-fifty.

"yeah…," he trails off, misses the look in your eyes, shifts to land onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. you do the same and decide that it's enough of 'testing the waters' for today. but apparently jeno thinks otherwise because just as you're moving to sit upright, he spells a slither of his heart out for you, "you're my first love, you know."

jeno would like to pride himself in the usage of 'you're,' also vague and could be taken either way. upsettingly, he lacks the know-how to understand that what this situation needs right now is certainty to topple over the tension and teetering statements. he's a bit too used to hiding behind the veil of 'what ifs' and resting atop the net of safety to realize.

blinking up at the ceiling, you rustle to sit up once again, but not before donghyuck bursts through the door with an expression that sits pissed at first but melds into his signature leer as soon as he surveys the pair he's stumbled upon. "been looking for you two." jeno's shooting upright himself and all of a sudden, things are happening too fast.

there's two seconds before you're off and bounding towards hyuck as if he were your means of rescue; there's the, "what took you so long?" that slips from your mouth as if you'd been waiting for him all along instead of willingly giving jeno your time of day; there's donghyuck's phone that rests limp in his hand, by his side, but not yet clicked off because the screen gleams bright and it's showcasing jaemin's contact, a recent call most definitely; there's hyuck's response, muttered but in good humor, "i took a shit, that's why."

and then there's the sinking feeling that sets fire within jeno. maybe even jaemin as well but it's for certain and even further confirmed when hyuck's smirk makes its way to meet jeno's benumbed expression, his eyes locking with sickening devilry and the traces of a challenge. donghyuck knows. and though he's sure to take it upon himself to get the two of you together for once and for all, jeno knows far better, with experience in hand, that though his friend's sentiments are in support, his chances fair much higher when it's only him that's left to trifle with the dealings of his love life. only him, and his languishing confidence.

plucking a kernel from the carpet, you toss it into the bin over the arm of the couch. the paper towel on the same arm is used to rub off whatever dust had soiled your hand and it's returned to the bowl to rummage for another, slightly more buttered, popcorn. you wish that your mom was into those hallmark christmas movies, because in all honesty, you're quite the fan but you suppose 'rise of the guardians' ranks close enough. glancing down to the bowl in your lap for a second time, you groan upon realizing that the only reason you've been munching on the terribly unflavored popcorn was because you've already tired out the supply of the buttered ones. that enough gets you to set the bowl on the coffee table, done with snacking for the night as you pick up your two crochet hooks and get to work, your actions mirroring your mom's though she's a lot farther in her chain.

you suppose the movie is just about halfway through when you're sidetracked by how you've somehow messed up a turning chain, warranted though, as you're an amateur in the dark. it's a shame because you really would have loved to pay at least half attention to the very gorgeously animated character, jack frost, but are instead struggling. after reworking the chain a few times, you decided to give it a rest and set it aside as well. it seems that being a quitter is the overarching theme of today.

the sound of your head thudding against the back of the couch gets your mom to separate her attention as well. seeing your state, she opts to make conversation in the light that you're far from returning to the movie. it plays in the background, the only source of light in the living room. "how's the car?"

"clean." a sour mood you're in, it seems. your mom hesitates for a second before approaching a second question, "how's jeno been?"

"great. he's been great, mom." she sets down her crochet for the time being, the foot of hers that's jutting out of the blanket bouncing up and down. you doubt why you even tried to conceal your feelings with curt responses when really, you're unashamed in front of your mom. that's the sole reason why she deems it fitting to dig a little deeper, "anything you want to tell me?"

it's an, "of course," that has her crochet set in her lap for the rest of the night. you turn towards her in full, shifting your weight so that it faced her position on the armchair diagonal of the couch. sighing, you shove a tongue in consideration to the side of your cheek before pulling back the curtains a third of the way, "i think he likes me." your mother's eyes sparkle, she sets her hooks and yarn on the coffee table as well, urging you to go on with a nudge of her head. "but at the same time he doesn't?"

she nods in the processing of her thoughts, "so, mixed feelings?"

you nod along with her, "mixed feelings."

your mother never disappoints you when a situation of yours arises and she's bound to give you her advice, her very blunt, very to-the-point advice. "just ask him. i mean, if he rejects you, you're only going to have to see him for a few more weeks before you're back off to school."

and you never disappoint yourself when a situation of yours arises and you're bound to adhere to her advice, the very blunt, very to-the-point advice because as always, she's right. but then she muses on with the littlest care in the world, "or you could just mess around with him for a bit-"

"mom-"

"what's making you think i mean it in that way? did i really raise such a slu-"

"mom! oh my goodness-"

"i'm just saying," she drags on the word and you almost rush to interrupt her with another exclamation before noting her demeanor, her countenance in the dim light. you lick your lips in apprehension, vaguely reminiscent of salted butter. "i'm just saying...keep him on the hook for a little longer," her crochet reference is bad but you don't miss an opportunity to let a small smile show. it's gone the next second when she resumes with more to her thought, "really, take it slow. i doubt that he doesn't like you. i'm pretty sure he did back in middle school-"

"he told me he did, something about how i was his first love."

she's taking this a lot less seriously than you thought she would. it irks you to know why. your mother has her head propped on the palm of her hand, her weight on the arm of the couch, "then i'm pretty sure he's never had a second." your brows draw in, "why?"

"no matter how much i love you, y/n, i would never pay for your groceries, change your tires, haul your christmas tree, or wash your car after not seeing you for seven years. just think about it, seven years without contact is as good as being strangers." you watch as she pushes herself off the arm, off the chair, blanket falling aside. your mom takes your discarded bowl in her hands, her own crochet, and the tv remote before clicking the movie off. you watch her as she moves casually across the room and you hear her just before she flicks on the light.

"it's either that he likes you or that he's jesus, your pick."

it's a christmas rule, or at lease a rule that you and your friends go by, that if christmas day is for family, then christmas eve is for friends, hence why donghyuck had so cleverly gathered everyone in his basement on the very day, or night actually. he stops you with an arm just before you descend upon the staircase, "what'd you bring?" he motions towards the plastic bag clutched in your hands, the same one that'd bagged your groceries the other day (reduce, reuse, recycle!), but it instead carries, "pumpkin pie, i've come bearing pie," and hyuck removes his arm for you to pass before holding it up again for jeno, "and you, sir?"

"eggnog."

you turn back to see donghyuck give jeno the heartiest pat on the back, "now that sir, that's what i'm talking about." scrunching your nose in good-natured fun, you quip at that, "what's wrong with my pumpkin pie?" jeno's a step above you, hyuck on the step behind as he retorts, "nothing, it's just that jeno here remembered that we're very much legal." shrugging, you trod off down below, missing the way donghyuck holds jeno back for a second. firstly to ask, "brandy or bourbon?"

"whiskey, actually."

and secondly to ask, "so what are you waiting for?"

"huh?" jeno takes a step back up the stairs and away from the hustle and bustle of the basement where you might have lingered to hear what he thinks the conversation is steering towards. "or did you do it already?" he checks himself before jumping to conclusions, "what do you mean?"

hyuck's hand is impatient on his friend's shoulder, after all, it's been eight years and counting since he first discovered jeno's little secret, plus only a day since he rediscovered it. "did you ask her out yet?" jeno's about to disagree with him, partially out of habit, "i-" before he realizes it's for naught, "no, i haven't."

"do you perhaps, i don't know, have a time in mind?"

repositioning the gallon-sized jar in his hands, jeno's response rumbles deep and low for only him to hear, "yeah actually, i was thinking next-"

"next?!"

"what-"

"no next! you have to do it like- tonight!"

"what, why?"

hyuck isn't smirking but the look in his eyes is somewhat akin to it. "because…," it seems that he isn't up to letting his mischief spill for his answer is really quite lame, "because timing is imperative! remember what happened last time?" jeno doesn't let it get to him nearly as much as it should; his plan is foolproof and he's convinced that nothing of what haechan does should be able to catch your gaze tonight, or for the rest of nights. he leaves the boy at the stairs as he treads into the space, ready to take on step one. different plans await him as he draws nearer to the sectional, only to find that the one available seat next to you, at the far right of the couch, has been taken by jaemin.

awkwardly, jeno sets the eggnog on the table and takes the next best spot, the one next to the boy, squeezing beside renjun who gives him a glare and a scowl, "first time you see me in awhile and you decide you want to sit on me? really jen?"

jeno puts his whole heart into apologizing, "oh whoops, my bad," as he turns his body in your direction, and jaemin's, only to feel his stomach furl at how jaemin's body is also aligned with your own, effectively blocking him off. again, the awkwardness that's emitting from him is awfully discernable to renjun, watching the boy turn back around again and give him a sheepish smile, this time in actual contriteness. with step two out of reach and thwarted, he sets his sights on the eggnog. jeno's quite the simple man. his approach was simple. he was sure that simple would get him many places, unlike donghyuck's abundant and conflict-laden schemes.

his plans were simple in that, one: sit next to you, make sure that no one else sits next to you. two: talk to you, make sure that no one else talks to you. and three: ask you out, make sure that no one else asks you out. and that's how it should've gone! though it's certainly not how it's going.

jeno's left to pick up the pieces of your and jaemin's delightful conversation as the same boy reaches for the eggnog at the same time as him. retreating, he watches as jaemin fills a mug for you, then for himself. he listens as jaemin questions, "first time drinking?" pfft, even i know that.

"yeah, actually," it's because you're mom's strict. "my mom's strict."

"oh wow, so eggnog for a first must be kinda heavy, huh."

i wish that you would start with something lighter, just in case. "i know right, i wish that i could start out with something lighter, just in case. but i don't mind." i'll mind for you. if you can't finish it, i'll finish it for you.

"if you can't finish it, i'll finish for you."

with that, jeno's off to minding his own business because na jaemin is quite literally, stealing his spot, stealing his lines and it's evident that whatever he'd planned for tonight was simply, as simple as his plan, not happening. glare and scowl set into place, akin to renjun's earlier, he fills his own mug, only up to the halfway mark because his last glimmer of hope lies in when he walks you home later in the night. hell, he regrets just thinking that he should've just asked you out on the way here.

setting the mug down, he leans back in his limited space, arms behind his head and an elbow digging into renjun's space as well. the boy is about to comment on it when donghyuck finally returns from his room with the board game of choice this one christmas eve. "since y/n's here for the first time, i've decided to go with something mild," everyone, except you, is transported into the memory of last year when the now-snapped-in-half connect four contraption had bewitched them all into a death match (at least it wasn't raining and at least it wasn't on the rooftop), "so we're going with monopoly." jeno notes the smile that makes its way to your face.

renjun from beside him groans, "monopoly's boring though, ("-because you suck at it-") why can't we just play like-"

"i think it's a good idea," jeno announces rather suddenly, to which donghyuck rejoins, "and i asked neither of you for your opinions." he tugs off the top of the case and throws it back, "my house, my rules." although jeno wants to confront the urge to counter hyuck's sass, he doesn't because you look pleased at the game of choice, elated almost. but then there's jaemin beside you, commenting and remarking into your ear to further the little smiles you give and, change of plans, jeno decides that if he can't beat jaemin in winning your attention, he'll just have to beat him in winning monopoly.

the fake bills in his hands stack steadily as renjun, who'd been appointed banker, hands him, two hundreds, then another fifty. but with each increasing increment of jeno's money and competitiveness, jaemin's seems to dwindle as any inverse relationship would do as such. jeno seems to have forgotten that he, na jaemin, is the self-proclaimed 'least competitive person in the world' and how that held true in most any circumstance, including the case of girls or this case of boardgames. rather than narrowing his focus on winning, jaemin catered his role in the playing of the game to comedics. and while jeno dearly loves to hear you laugh, he finds it unfortunate that you find jaemin very funny.

he thinks he's had quite the night. the two rounds of monopoly, an hour each where he'd won both times but was also unrivaled both times, the movie marathon that followed suit (though is the word 'marathon' really warranted if only one and a third were watched?), and the grand finale, eight rounds of drinking games. certainly any singular event could have ignited a spur within him but after enduring all of them, paired with the fact that he was now mildly drunk, lee jeno is, to put it simply, not having it.

jeno undoubtedly has had a drink or two more than he should have because he sways a bit when he stands. he isn't sure but somewhere in the midst of seeing jaemin's hand rest casually on your thigh (missing the way you brush it off politely) and the way he seems to exclusively talk to you and you only (though your half-hearted responses are just out of earshot), jeno came to the conclusion that drinking copious amounts of eggnog seemed the best course of action. he also comes to duly note the looks that jaemin has been sending him, periodically. it's something along the lines of a smirk without the smile, a challenge set in his brow, and a glint of smugness in the eyes. drunk jeno is having exceeding difficulties in stripping down the implication of those regards, especially when his forefront train of concentration is currently being narrowed towards not tripping up the steps.

the jar of eggnog, now empty, is left behind on the table with the cumulation of also empty mugs and extra beer cans, soju bottles. your plastic bag and the aluminum container that held the pumpkin pie are long gone as well. you track your eyes down to each step of the stairs you take because if you look up, you'd be face to face with jeno's bottom. face to butt, really.

the night had ebbed, slowly but surely, into a mess. for whatever reason, you had minimal interactions with any of your friends except for jaemin, not that jaemin wasn't your friend, just that you had hopes of a christmas eve spent with the boy you talked the least to in the course of the night. the one whose bottom has just backed into your forehead. "jen…"

he pays no mind, perhaps doesn't even hear you at all because he proceeds to stumble around for a bit, taking another step down until you're forced to do the same, else your sanity be damned. both hands on the rails on either side, you suck in a breath. "jen, get your ass out of my face." and at that, the boy seems to get a grip on himself, tossing a dumbfounded, then staggered look back at you before straightening and taking the surest steps the rest of the way up to the utility room landing where donghyuck is seen to have been holding the back door open for the better part of three minutes. jaemin is there as well, lingering to see you guys off, you specifically, and jeno finds that same look being thrown at him, except this time he's slightly sobered up. the haze that had hitherto hindered him from thinking through his thoughts with clarity had cleared. he realizes what's off.

maybe it's the flashback, episodic memory style, to donghyuck's phone displaying jaemin's contact after intruding upon the little moment you'd been sharing with him, only a day ago at that. maybe it's that paired with hyuck's, "you have to do it like- tonight!" something that he'd brushed off but also made a lot more sense when put into consideration with the fact that jaemin's looks emanated of provocations, a dare of sorts. and that in itself speaks volumes of nonsense now that jeno's remembering that jaemin is the least competitive person in the world, not only to his own standards but to everyone else's. na jaemin, jeno's other best friend, wasn't deliberately trying to steal his (soon-to-be) girl. he was rather (rather infuriatingly) trying to rile up his dear friend into asking her out. bitterly, jeno notes that it's working; he's a great deal ticked off, even more so now that he's in the know, and his plans on asking you out have indeed been sped up to tonight.

so as jeno holds an unnecessary hand out to help you up the last few steps, a hand that you take with an apprehensive smile quick to form, he makes sure to give jaemin that same look he's been receiving all night. and while jaemin holds an elbow of yours to steady you as you slip on your shoes, jeno makes sure to take both sides of your open jacket and zip it closed, tugging the garment tight to your frame. he relishes in the feeling of your eyes on him, for the first time that night, as you bid your farewells to everyone else. jeno tries to hide a smile of his own as he says his goodbyes, eyes never leaving yours. he ushers you out of the house soon enough, the door clicking shut behind him and offering him the makings of possibly the confession of the century. he paces himself beside you.

hyuck's house is only four blocks down from your own, the only reason the two of you had agreed to walk there in the first place which was a seemingly good idea, if only you had considered the fact that by the end of the gathering it would be three forty in the morning, on christmas morning. the sky is dark, the moon itself offering little light in the presence of clouds, though the air is crisp as it is cold, nipping at the exposed skin of your face and hands. you shove those same hands into the pockets of your jacket as you shuffle along the side of jeno; just being by his side seems to provide a steady stream of warmth you're unwilling to stray too far from.

it's when the two of you cross the second intersection that jeno thinks to start up the little conversation that's been playing in his head for the last six or so hours. it's also then that an idea, though rather dumb, dawns upon you. your neighborhood circles around a fairly small lot, one with only a lawn of grass and a childrens' playground to earn it the title of being a park. a corner of your lips turns itself upwards as you grasp a hand on jeno's forearm, lightly steering him, "let's go sit on the swings for a bit, how's that?" and he complies, mind rerouting the scenarios of the conversation as the circumstances fluctuate.

the swings, a set of two, creak and groan as you kick up and back, the movement coursing the wind to whip cold across your cheeks. your hands clasp the equally frigid chains from which the seat you're on is sustained, the metal is sure to leave red streaks along the lines of your palms. jeno, who remains unmoving, merely looks on at you with a bemused and adoring gaze, his hands fisting and unfisting in his jacket pockets to retain their warmth in the case that you would be willing to hold them. a wide grin spreads across his features as he watches you dig your heels into the bark to stop, your giddy laughter quiet but perceptible to his eager ears.

with the last bit of momentum edging you on, you almost stumble off the seat. lunging forward with added force, your arms are thrown out on either side to maintain your offset balance. jeno startles at your actions as well, a hand of his own is flung out instinctively to steady you but the distance makes it so the closest he gets is your thrust out hand. he's holding your hand. and it jars him a bit because the sequence of planned events, the notecards by which he was dutifully following, are now jostled and out of order.

he's yet to let go of your hand and that's yet to leave your notice. you don't question it either but you look over just in time to see him gulp, his eyes on the ground before him. the second you revert your eyes, jeno speaks, "do you mind if i ask you something?" his hands are warm.

"go for it."

"i- i said yesterday that...that you're my first love." despite the weather, jeno can almost feel the sweat rush to his palms. he hopes it isn't noticeable and pushes on, "am i yours?"

jeno's banking on your answer to give a green or red light to follow through with all else, he'd phrased the question to deliver precisely just that. never more than now have the differences between 'were' and 'are' meant so much to him.

he turns to see a smile light your expression as you continue to stare into the ground and when he turns back, the fruits of his efforts are bestowed upon him. "yeah, you are my first love."

the green light has been given, jeno's palms are growing clammier by the second. he stands, hand still in yours, and pads over to where you're seated, the sound of wood chips crunching beneath his steps. jeno holds out his other hand and you take it. thumb rubbing over your knuckles, you find that jeno simply stands before you. the dark shrouds the two of you entirely but you make out enough of his features to see that he's smiling, blindingly, and it's in that moment where your mother's advice falls short because in all honesty, you have no willingness to 'take it slow.' you want him fast and you want him now.

"jeno, i like you."

his thumb on your knuckles stills. jeno isn't sure if he's falling or willingly lowering himself onto his knees because that's what's happening, though he's almost positive that he's come to a dead end on controlling his bodily functions. his mind, all those thought out scenarios of how this night could possibly pan out, every plan that's been enforced and redacted, it all short circuits because he's met with the one possibility that he thought unthinkable. you've confessed to him.

"you what?" jeno's looking up at you with what you believe to be wide eyes, they're beautiful to say the least. you give a squeeze to his hands. he almost jumps in response and in his sensitive state. with another five words, "i said i like you," and it feels as if you've decked him in the head with a chair, or ran him over with a truck, flew an airplane square into his chest. he squeezes your hands back, but harder and for longer as if to convey what he cannot possibly fathom into words in the moment. so he gives it two moments, maybe three or four, before he comes to grasp his bearings with a little more certainty.

but jeno can't bear to look you in the eyes. the thought of his sweaty, clammy hands in yours enough to render him an ungainly mess. with the bark digging sharply into his knees and beckoning for his attention, he doesn't think much as he drops his head into your lap. in fact, he doesn't think at all when he mumbles, "well, i love you," in such a casual manner, it's as if he were implying, 'hah, beat that.'

and you do. to add on to the shitload of emotions he's currently surfing atop of, you retract a hand from his hold and bring it to his head, fingers weaving in and out of his locks, back and forth on his scalp. the world of thirteen and twenty-one collide because when he looks up, you're the same, pretty, endearing middle school girl and the same enthralling, though stressed college student that he's been loving for so long—almost too long, for the length of time would have deemed incredulous and in vain had you not uttered in the second following, with your fingers laced into the curls at the foot of his head, "well, i've loved you for as long as i can remember."

jeno goes in for it.

his lips on yours, at first, are hot like fire on a cold winter night. they burn and they scald and they sear until the memory of how they meld in perfect unison with your own has seared itself into the forefront of your mind, riveted and ravaging your every thought. sequentially, the initial pang dulls in the trail it's blazed as your movements settle into the languid pace he's set, lips encasing your own repeatedly no matter how many times you part. on perhaps the seven or eighth time you've met your lips to his own, he stops, though his lips remain on yours, and he breathes, "if that's the case...," he suckles on your bottom lip but falls back before you can act on it. jeno brings a hand to the line of your jaw and traces his finger along it, tilting your head to his as they happen upon your chin. "if that's the case, then i guess i must've loved you since the beginning of time."

if christmas eve is for friends, then christmas day is for family.

and perhaps jeno can be filed under friends and family after all because when you awake on christmas morning, or rather afternoon, it's not to the knock on the door from your dad or the screeching of your mom but rather, to jeno's leg shifting atop your own.

"oops, didn't mean to wake you," is what you first hear and the sight of him, hair messy and without a shirt, is what you first see. the brightness of your room, evidence of how you'd forgotten to draw the curtains closed before going to sleep, is almost enough to get you to shut your eyes again but you don't because it's lee jeno who's in front of you, in bed with you, with his arms around you. you wonder how you even fell asleep the night before.

yawning as you speak, "how long have you been up?" he glances at your bedside table, "since nine," and you follow suit, only to see the time on your alarm clock spelling out a 1:04 PM. "shoot, did my alarm wake you?"

"it should've woken you too."

you let a chuckle out at that and he returns with a hearty laugh that reverberates through you. letting your head hit his chest, you mumble, eyes closing shut, "why didn't you just wake me up then?" jeno's glad that you're unable to see him in the position you're in because he's sure to be sporting a blush when he says, "because you're cute when you sleep."

"and so you just ogled at me for four hours?"

yet somehow, he's anything but embarrassed when he retorts, "oh believe me, i've been ogling at you for years." you look up at him once again to see that his eyes are already on you. jeno pulls you closer until your clothed chest hits his bare one. "why am i the one wearing this?" he eyes the bright green material of the shirt and shakes his head, "i thought i already told you that you look better in it."

"in this musty old green tee?"

"not just any musty old green tee. it's my most prized possession, means a whole lot to me."

a smile finds its way to your face, "then why do you wear it to sleep every night? wouldn't that like, i don't know, shorten its lifespan?" jeno only shakes his head a little more, "i wear it to sleep because i like going to sleep thinking about you, it makes me think about you."

"then do you dream about me?"

shameless as he never was before, he nods, "do you?" you shuffle your legs around with his a little more, "i don't even remember my dreams but i'm sure that if i did, they'd all be dreams of you." the smile on his face stretches wide, neither of you are sleepy anymore.

you move to get up but jeno holds you still. complying, you decide to further your interrogations, "does your mom know that you're here?"

"no, but she probably thinks i just stayed over at hyuck's or something," you hum along, figuring just about the same. "the real question is, does your mom know i'm here?" musing along, you can only imagine the look on her face when jeno trails behind you on the steps down to breakfast (overdue lunch), "no, but i'm sure she'd be more pleased than anything. she really adores you, you know."

"then she wouldn't mind it if i asked you out, no?"

good god, it's like the reciprocation of his feelings has made him out to be a whole different man. gone is the stutter-filled, wide-eyed thirteen year old boy who could not, for his life, lay out his love for the one girl he'd only ever had eyes for. in with this smooth little fucker that has you stuttering over your own words, "n-no, i don't think she would mind." and he seals the deal with a kiss, lingering his lips on your own and pulling your bodies flush.

jeno wishes that things never change, the shoulder stitch of his shirt falling far too low on your arms and far too high on his collarbones, the white paint of your car gleaming and his clothes doused with a hose or two, the eggnog drunk until words string incoherent and his ass is shoved unceremoniously into your face. jeno hopes to keep you by his side, to go grocery shopping with you instead of having to bump into you by chance, to throw out his trash and return to your house instead of his own, to feel the arm of your jacket brush against his as you walk side by side in the blackness of night, to be able to close the distance every single time because you were always seven inches too far; the prospect of you and him had been withheld for seven years too long and since the seventh grade too young. but now, with your forehead pressed to his, legs tangled in ways unimaginable, it seems that he has you all to himself for seven eternities on end, endlessly, forever, forevermore.

✧ end note — it’s ree here, and i hope you enjoyed my christmas gift to you hehe <33 as the new year comes into sight, i’d like to pass on to you some of that *good energy* and say that 1) i love you, very dearly. and 2) if you ever need anything, i’m right here for you, inbox always open. with sentiments as warm as ever, i am exceedingly glad to have been able to spend the latter third of this year with you guys. much more to come, rouiyan.

#neowritingsnet #neothestars #neo-constellations #neoculturecafe #jeno fluff #nct jeno #nct jeno fics #nct jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno x you #lee jeno #jeno angst #nct jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

521 notes · View notes

btsrunmylife · 4 years ago

Text

Into the Safe Zone; Introduction

summary: Jungkook has been hooked on the Mobile version of Call of Duty since his friend Taehyung introduced him to it. What he’s not expecting is to stumble across a female gamer on the platform that may actually be better than he is...and once he finds you, he can’t help but get a little addicted. To the game, of course...not to you...no matter what his clan may think.

genre: social media au, romance, comedy

rating: pg13 (subject to change)

pairing: jungkook x reader

tag list: TAG LIST CLOSED

Jungkook sighs to himself as he collapses onto his couch in the living room he shares with his two best friends. Blowing hair from his face, he opens the Call of Duty: Mobile app on his phone, turning his volume up so he can hear the music that plays during the title screen. Maybe it’s a little lame, but the familiar sound always makes his heartbeat quicken just a little, anticipation for the impending matches pumping through his veins.

A good first-person shooter game is just what he needs after a long day at work, especially after spending most of the day making complicated drink orders for all the teens now on summer vacation. Honestly, it was like clockwork every year. As soon as that final bell rung, they swarmed the little coffee shop he worked for. And, without fail, they always order these really long, complicated, and incredibly specific drink orders. Honestly, if he had to make one more coffee order that was so long it didn’t even fit on the label, he might scream. How do these people even remember their own orders?

Settling into the cushions, he lets himself relax for the first time all day and smiles when the game finally loads. He clicks out of the screens advertising Battle Passes and Limited Edition bundles before selecting “Battle Royale”. He clicks the small “Invite” option on the side of his screen and scrolls through the people online. Being a Friday night, it’s really a tossup as to whether anyone will be around. Although some like to stay in and game like he does, he knows some are much more sociable, like Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok.

He checks with his clan first and, although a few people are online, there’s no one he knows or has really played with before. He switches to his friends list, but it mostly consists of people that are offline or already in a game. Sucking his top lip into his mouth, he chews on it idly as he clicks back and forth, hoping someone will randomly decide to log on or finish a game.

When a few minutes pass, he finally decides to just jump into a game, slamming his thumb on the “start” button and allowing the platform to fill his four-person team for him. It’s a bit of a gamble, really, either playing with new people goes well or it doesn’t. It all depends on whether the players decide to work together and win or go their separate ways and die one by one. When the latter happens, you might as well quit right after you die because it’s very rare for them to make the journey across the map to revive you. Especially before the safe zone starts to shrink.

But, sometimes, if he’s lucky, he finds some genuinely impressive gamers to befriend and game with later. He’s met quite a few since joining the game a few months ago after Taehyung had convinced him to play. He’s been a part of his and Jimin’s clan, “Bangtan Sonyeondan” since he caught the attention of their clan leader, Rapmon. Jungkook isn’t...the best at the game, but he’s become one of the top players in their clan, helping bring them up in ranks and attracting fans during their livestreams. It’s been fun, to say the least, but there are times when absolutely no one is online due to the exclusivity of their clan and due to members living around the world. It’s cool to connect with people worldwide, but gaming in different timezones can be frustrating.

When his Battle Royale screen loads, he briefly scans the class screen, sticking with the usual “Airborne” class that allows him to spawn a catapult on the ground that can launch all four team members into the air to travel larger distances. If used correctly, it can come in handy, especially when the safe zone starts shrinking and there are no vehicles nearby.

Slowly, his teammates choose their own classes and he glances at the usernames of his group. He squints, but it never does much good. Even with decent eyesight he can barely read the small lettering. It doesn’t matter anyway -- their usernames aren’t important. What’s important is how well they play the game.

Apparently, he’s teamed up with a bunch of amateurs. Within minutes, the jump leader lands them in a hotspot and dies. Another teammate isn’t far behind, essentially running straight into enemy fire, which leaves Jungkook and his final teammate left to pick up their dog tags without getting annihilated themselves. It’s not easy, there are people everywhere and a few shots manage to land, lowering his health. His teammate navigates well, sliding in between players and sneaking up on a few to strike them from behind with a pickax. The female character, one of very few on the game, slides across the ground, grabbing both dog tags before landing a few kill shots with a gun. Jungkook scrambles to keep up, following his teammate’s lead and narrowly avoiding shots along the way.

Once his class is fully charged, he slams his thumb on the button, aiming the station at the ground between him and his teammate before sliding across the ground to avoid a few more shots. Quickly, the two of them rush to the station as it lands and Jungkook grinds his teeth, muttering under his breath and hoping the catapult launches them before the other teams manage to kill them. A few bullets hit him, screen tinting an angry red before the tell-tale sound of the catapult launching sounds through his speakers.

Opening the map, he marks a spot to land and aims himself in that direction, not waiting around to see if his teammate follows. There are still bullets flying through the air, zinging past him as he glides through the air and away from the crowded warzone.

He scopes out the ground below as he glides before landing somewhere safe and leading his teammate to a small cluster of buildings to gather more supplies. He makes sure to switch out his shotgun for an AK117, feeling much better having a gun with a faster reload and higher stock. He listens to the sound of dog tags being scanned and breathes a sigh of relief.

Even if they happen to get attacked now, there’s a chance their teammates will be back in time to collect their dog tags...if they don’t die first. Jungkook doesn’t feel very confident at this point.

He doesn’t even know how they made it out of there alive, to be honest. Squinting at the name of his teammate, he notes the nickname “PinkIvy2063″ and wonders briefly if his teammate is a girl. So used to ignoring the page that shows all the players’ avatar display pictures, he hadn’t noticed if she’d had a social page connected or whether she was using one of CODM’s generic avatars.

His curiosity continues to burn the longer they play, with Pink Ivy only dying once when trying to save the other two, who continuously die throughout the game. Surprisingly, and likely entirely due to Pink Ivy and Jungkook, the team makes it to the very end, only dying when it’s 4 (the other team) against 2 (Ivy and Jungkook). He sighs in slight agitation when the game ends, but quickly skips through the summary of what happened throughout the game to get to the team stats page.

He’s not sure whether he’s more surprised or impressed to find PinkIvy2063 in the top spot on their team...with a display photo that’s very clearly a woman blowing a kiss at the camera. He notices her kill count is “13″ and raises his eyebrows.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, clicking the yellow button next to her photo to send her a friend request. He exits back to the lobby and pulls up the “Invite” screen, searching the “recent games” tab to invite her to play another game.

A notification flashes at the top of his screen, letting him know PinkIvy2063 accepted his friend request, just before she joins his lobby. He uses the Yeah Buddy emote, his character tapping his chest with a balled fist three times. She does it back and he pulls up the (admittedly clunky) messaging system in the app to congratulate Pink Ivy on a good game.

There’s a prolonged silence, one where he waits with bated breath to see if she’ll respond. When she does, his heart skips a beat before sinking. Her reply is in English, something he’s not expecting, but he knows enough to translate the sad emoji and the “I’m sorry, I speak English.” He can’t deny he’s a little disappointed and he can’t help but pout when he switches his keyboard to romanization.

He struggles through, “I speak Korean. Good game. You play well!”

Pink Ivy’s response is immediate and, honestly, he’s just happy she understood. The two languages aren’t always compatible. “Thanks!”

He frowns at the short response, but his eyebrows shoot up when the next reply is in Hangul.

“You are good too.”

He licks his lips. “Translator?”

“Yes, I hope it translates correctly.”

He sits back, genuinely impressed and thankful she’s trying to make communication easier for them. “Another game?”

“Let’s get it!” she writes back in English.

He grins to himself and closes the message, clicking “start” and launching the two of them into another game.

Yeah...he might just like her already.

back | Masterlist | next

social media profiles

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smau #bts sm au #bts social media au #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #gamer jungkook #bts au fic

140 notes · View notes

ggidolsmuts · 4 years ago

Text

(Smut version) CC - Iz*One Chaewon

"Okay, so who knows the answer to this question?" You ask your small but noisy class of students, looking at the clock at the back of the classroom and hoping this tutorial session of yours is ending soon - the class is too energetic for you. Your professor thrust this on you - apparently you did too well in her first-year class, so instead of one of her graduate students, you, a third-year, ended up as a teaching assistant for the class you took just two years ago. At least the pay was good for a college student, so you didn't complain.

"Me me me! The answer is 5x + 2." A long-haired blonde, Yena was it? Answered eagerly.

"Not quite-"

"No stupid, it's 5x2 + 2!" A feisty long-haired student called out from behind, firing a mocking lock at Yena for answering incorrectly.

"Ahahahah dummy!"

"That's enough Hyewon, good job Chaewon, but that is rude of you, there is no need to call others out."

"But-but she had the wrong answer!"

"And you had the wrong way of giving the right answer. Apologize to Yena."

"But what about Hye-"

"Apologize." You ask of Chaewon, sharpening your tone. Her face turns red, abashed at being put on the spot in front of her classmates.

"I-I'm sorry Yena."

"It's okay..." Yena replies timidly, the entire room going quiet at your tone.

"Good, moving on. As Chaewon said, the answer is 5x2 + 2, the reason that is the answer is because..." You launch into the explanation of the question, and the rest of the session goes by smoothly without incident. The students file out the door, eager to get out of the stuffy classroom. All but one make it out the door.

"Chaewon, a moment please."

"I'm sorry I-" You wave her off.

"No, not that, I'm glad you know what you did was wrong though. I wanted to talk to you about something else." She stands in front of you nervously, her hands fidgeting with her notebook.

"You got the question right in class, and I know you get the concepts because you ask the right questions, but Professor Bae says you're scoring poorly on the homeworks and quizzes, why is that?"

"I live in the dorms with the other students in the class, and you know how they are, you can barely keep them quiet in class."

"I've noticed, but Professor Bae says they're quiet in her classes."

"Well have you seen her? We're all scared of her!"

"Fine, but what's your point?"

"At the dorms it gets so noisy, I can't concentrate and study properly there."

"Go study at the library then."

"Too far, we have lots of dorm events going on, I don't want to miss out on those when they're available."

"Hmm... why don't you come to my office hours?"

"Your office hours?"

"Yeah, not many people come by for help, it'll be quiet, and I'll be available if you need help."

"Is that okay? I can just come by and study, even if I have no questions?"

"Of course!"

"That's great! When are your hours again?"

"Monday and Thursday, 5 to 7 in the evening."

"I'll be there, thank you!" She heads to the door, turning around and waving adorably at you, and you feel your heart stop for a moment - how is she so cute?

You wave back.

"No problem."

Chaewon becomes a regular at your office hours, always greeting you cheerily, before going quiet and burying her head in the books. The two of you usually enjoy the quiet classroom together, you working on your own homework while Chaewon goes over the latest chapter Professor Bae covered, occasionally asking you the odd question or two about a concept.

Over time you got to know her better, the two of you talking about the class, the professor, and just university life in general. She was always loud and noisy around her fellow friends, but surprisingly by herself she was more demure and low-key. Your personal highlight of those office hours is when she would give you a cute "Have a good night oppa!" before heading back to her dorm. In one of your office hours before the midterm, Chaewon makes a request.

"I'm having some trouble with these questions, can you go through them with me?"

"Of course." You sit down next to her, the two of you sharing the laptop screen. She points out the questions she has problems with and the two of you work through each and every one of them. About three quarters of the way through Chaewon glances at the computer clock, seeing that it is almost 7 pm.

"Oh no, time's almost up! Do you have to go at 7?" She looks at you with wide open eyes, frustration written on her face for not being able to get through all the questions in time.

"No it's fine, we can keep going, I want to make sure you understand everything." She gives you a grateful nod, and the two of you keep going. Unfortunately the last few questions are the hardest, and Chaewon has difficulty grasping those. Time drags on, and you feel yourself losing concentration, nodding off while she works on the problem. You shake your head, trying to clear your drowsiness. You lean towards the laptop, trying to read the question she's working on.

"Chaewon which one are you working on, do you have any questions?"

"Yes I'm-"

She stops talking abruptly, and you turn to face her. Both of you had leaned toward the laptop, and the two of you were close, far too close. You feel your face burning up, unable to tear away from her - you knew she was pretty, but seeing her blushing face so close to yours, you found her gorgeous. Chaewon snaps both of you out of it, pulling away from you and stammering.

"I-I think I'm done, I don't have any more questions, I'll see you oppa, h-have a good night!" You sit there wordlessly as Chaewon stuffs everything in her bag in a rush, dashing out the classroom without even a wave.

Your heart won't slow down.

------------

A few days after the midterm, you knock on the door with labeled "Professor Bae Yoon Jung".

"Come in."

"Yes professor, you wanted to see me?"

"I just wanted to say that you're doing a excellent job, the students in your section did really well this midterm. Chaewon made a huge improvement."

"Thank you professor, I am glad to hear they did well." You're happy that Chaewon did well on the test, maybe a bit too happy - you couldn't hide the smile on your face.

"What's with the smile on your face?"

"I'm just glad Chaewon's doing well, she's been coming to my office hours often, so I'm glad to have been of help to her."

"Keep at it then, here are the tests for your section, give it back to them later today." She pats the stack of papers on her desk.

"Yes professor." Right, you had a session with the class to go over the tests later. You hadn't seen Chaewon since that evening... why are you so nervous? Why are you looking forward to it?

After lunch you find yourself walking to the usual classroom, your heartbeat rising as you open the door. The classroom is shockingly quiet, all the students nervous about the results of the midterm. You are determined not to scan the room for Chaewon, so you dive straight into it.

"Hey class, I'll cut to the chase, good job on the midterm, the median was a 77, average was 80 overall. Professor Bae was very pleased with this section's scores, I think almost everyone got an A, so really good job there. I'll return the tests now and go over each question." You look down at the papers and begin calling out names.

"Kwon Eunbi." A short-haired student came bounding up to you, and as always you found yourself trying not to admire her amazing body while giving her her test back. "Good job." You say to her while looking down at the next name.

"Honda Hitomi." A quiet blonde with squishy cheeks came up to you. You only remember her as being extremely quiet in class, but Chaewon mentioned in one of your conversations that she's really nice and kind to all of them. You give her the test with a nod and a quiet "Good job!" She sees her score and almost skips back to her seat.

"Nabuki Yako-"

"It's Yabuki Nako!" You hear giggles from the class as a petite student comes walking up to you, her face pouty and indignant as you got her name wrong again.

"Right, I'm so sorry Nako, here you go, you did a great job."

"Thank you!" She beams at the score she got.

"Choi Yena." The long-hair blonde approaches you, picking up her paper but not looking at the score.

"You did fine, got that question right too!" You try to encourage her, and she allows herself to take a peek.

"Oh, oh wow, nice!" She pumps her fist and makes her way back to her seat.

"Jo Yuri." Yena stops and comes back to you.

"I'll take it, we look alike."

"I'm here, she can take it!" You wave and see a second Yena - right, they always sat together and you wondered if they were twins, but apparently not.

"Uh sure... good job Yuri!" You call out to her before looking at the next test. "Kang Hyewon." Yena stops and doubles back again, stretching out her hand.

"I'll take it for her, she's going to be late."

"What? Why?"

"She's still eating lunch." You take a look at your watch. "She eats a lot." Yena adds when she sees your confusion. Shrugging you hand her Hyewon's paper. Your heart skips a beat when you see the next name.

"K-Kim Chaewon."

Your heart skips again when you see her rise elegantly from her seat and walk towards you. Normally the students are dressed in casual outfits, but Chaewon seemed really well made up today, her bangs perfect, her long hair lightly curled, and wearing a cute but eye-catching black one piece. She strides up and stops in front of you.

"Hi."

"H-hi." You manage to stammer out.

"Ooh la la he's nervous!" Your hear from behind Chaewon, followed by a series of scandalous "oohs" from the rest of the class.

"Yah Jo Yuri!" She turns around, raising her fist in a toothless threat. Yuri sticks her tongue out, teasing you and Chaewon.

"Ahem." You clear your throat, and Chaewon turns around to you, her face red at being teased.

"Right, sorry..."

"Here you go, you did a great job."

"Thanks." She looks down at her test. "Wait really?!" You smile and nod at her. What follows can only be described as a shrill squeal of joy as she bounces back to her friends, showing off her score proudly.

"Next is... Lee Chaeyeon." A student with brilliant red hair comes towards you.

"Top score as always, really good job."

"Thank you!" She beams and returns to her seat, the other students envious of her, wanting to take a look at her exam to see what the correct answers were to the questions they got wrong. You go through a few more names.

"Miya- Miyawa... er, Sakura?"

The nervous girl sitting next to Chaeyeon comes forward.

"Good job, you did well this time."

"That's because the game servers were down the night before!" You hear Nako tease. Sakura doesn't say anything, so perhaps she was right.

"Uh huh... well, keep at it!" She quietly collects her paper and returns to her seat.

"Kim Minju... Angel?"

"You actually put that as your name on the test? Ahahahaha!" You hear the unmistakable laughter of Chaeyeon coming from the seats.

"Ahh~ It's because I lost a bet with Yena!" A tall and pretty student came walking up to you. "I didn't think you would say it out loud!" She looks at you accusingly.

"Sorry, I was just reading the name on the paper." She takes the test from you in a huff, the rest of the class cackling in laughter. You felt a little sorry for her, but also laugh along with the class - Chaewon mentioned she frequently gets made fun of because her reactions are great, and it certainly seems to be the case. You return the rest of the tests in short order.

"Okay, I think that's the class, I'll go over the questions now. So question 1..." You launch into a discussion of the test, and the class thankfully focuses, all of them quietly scribbling notes so that they don't make the same mistake again. You try to focus on going over the questions too, but you can't take your eyes off Chaewon every time you turn around to address the class - and neither could she, as the two of you catch each other's glance more than once.

The bell rings and the class begins filing out the door. You watch Chaewon and the rest of the class, but as they get to you Chaewon stops in front of you.

"Hey, I have a good joke, care to hear it?"

"Sure." Chaewon proceeds to drop a banana on your head.

"Ouch, what's that for?"

"A banana fell for you, so will you fall for me?" Chaewon asks in a singsong voice, her face turning beet red as she says it. She doesn't even grab her banana before she dashes out the door. Yuri and Yena crack up behind her after seeing the spectacle, calling after Chaewon and rushing past you to catch up to her.

"I hope you got the joke!" Yena calls out as she leaves.

You got the joke, and the question... Are you falling for her?

------------

The next office hours roll around, and you are not surprised, but maybe a little disappointed, to see that Chaewon didn't come to office hours. After all it was right after the midterm, so maybe she is off relaxing with her friends and didn't want to study. You shrug and sit down, taking out your laptop and working on schoolwork of your own. The clock hits 7 pm and you pack your stuff, ready to go grab food. When you open the door however, you are surprised to see Chaewon there, dressed simply in a jacket and jeans.

"C-chaewon?"

"Oh oppa, you're done? Great, let's go!"

"What are you doing here, and go where?"

"Oppa, you finished office hours right?"

"Yes...?"

Chaewon takes a deep breath, preparing herself to say something.

"Let's go on a date."

You heart starts pounding, your mouth dry, did you hear her correctly?

"What?"

"L-let's go on a date!" She looks at you, her body seemingly shrinking away from you as she begins deflating like a balloon, losing confidence at your reaction.

"I-I'm sorry Chaewon, I can't." The words leaving your mouth stab at your own heart like a invisible knife.

"Why? But... but-"

"You're my student, I won't date my student."

"You're only two years older!" She starts speaking loudly, her voice rising but also beginning to break.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I-" You twist the knife further on yourself.

"Fine!" Chaewon's face is bright red, unable to face you. Her body is shaking slightly. "I'm sorry I asked!" She shouts at you before turning away from you, walking quickly back down the hallway.

"Chaewon!" You call out to her, but she doesn't stop or turn around. All you hear is a sniffle - it travels down the hallway, a second knife striking straight at your heart.

Why does it hurt even more?

------------

Chaewon stops coming to your office hours, often even skipping your tutorial sessions entirely. You try to ask Yena and Yuri about her, but you don't get much out of them other than accusing looks and asking you hotly, "Why do you care?"

You find yourself missing her presence more and more, looking to her empty seat whenever you turn around to address the class, or looking up hopefully when the odd student comes to your office hours. You knew for sure you fell for her hard, but you also knew you couldn't date her then, and certainly not after that evening... you feel like you have a knife permanently buried in your heart, hurting whenever you thought about Chaewon, which was often.

To make matters worse, Professor Bae caught on as well, as she summoned you to her office close to the final exam.

"You wanted to see me professor?"

"Yes, are you still helping Chaewon in office hours?"

"No, she hasn't shown up in a while, why?"

"Her grades have been slipping since the midterm, which is not too unusual, but she has stopped coming to classes too, so I was wondering if you know anything about it."

"I haven't seen her since the midterm."

"I thought she was going to your office hours."

"She... stopped." The professor shoots you a piercing look, but you manage to stay silent, and she doesn’t pursue the matter.

"Fine. What a pity, she was doing so good too." You stand quietly by, unsure of what to say. The professor fires you another piercing look before sighing, dismissing you with a wave of her hand. "You may go." You worry about her, but there’s nothing you could do either. You hang your head and leave.

------------

A week before the finals during office hours, you hear a commotion outside the door. As you stride to the door to find out what's going on, it flies open, almost smacking you in the face. This is followed by a short-haired figure flying straight at you. You manage to catch them, stopping their momentum and cushioning them against your chest. You look up to see Eunbi, Hyewon, and Yena standing at the door, all three of them giggling at what happened.

"We brought you a student who needs lots of help, please take care of her!" Eunbi says before the trio of them leave in a rush. You look at the student in your arms as she pushes away from you. You want to say you barely recognize her, but you spent the past two months thinking about her, you'd recognize her anywhere with any hair style.

"Chaewon?"

"Hi oppa." She says softly. Gone is the long-haired Chaewon you knew for most of the year, instead she is sporting a bobbed hair style, curling at the end and raven black instead of the brown she had. You did not think she could look even better than before, but she has taken your breath away along with your heart.

"Your hair, it looks great!"

"Thank you..." She blushes furiously at your compliment. "We-we had a dorm event, so I decided to change my hair for it."

"Good idea, you look beautiful." The words come out from your mouth before you can stop yourself, your face turning beet red. The both of you just stand there staring at the ground, unable to look at each other.

"I-I need some help before the final exam, I missed some classes because of the dorm event, can you help me?"

"Of course, that's why I'm here."

You sit down with her, happy to just see her again. You can't stop smiling, and to your joy neither can she as the two of you go over questions together, almost like the two of you did before the midterms, and before you know it your time together is over. The two of you pack your bags and exit the room, looking at each other, not wanting to say goodbye. You decide to broach the awkward topic you both had floating in your minds.

"Chaewon, about last time-" Chaewon cuts you off however.

"Oppa, I want to focus on the finals right now, I need to get caught up to speed. Thank you for today, I'll see you Thursday." She says in a rush, not looking you in the eye.

"Right, sounds good, I'll see you Thursday."

Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

You counted down the hours, no, minutes, until you could see Chaewon again, and during your Thursday office hours you find yourself unable to concentrate, your ears straining, listening for any footsteps that might be coming towards the classroom. You leap out of your seat when you hear footsteps coming down the hallway, rushing to the door and opening it.

"Ah!" Chaewon shouts in surprise.

"Chaewon! I'm sorry, I heard footsteps so I t-thought it was..." You trail off, embarrassed at your own eagerness to see her. Her face turns red as she figures out the last unsaid word.

"W-well I'm here... shall we go in?"

"Oh... oh, yes." You snap yourself out of your daze, taking a seat next to Chaewon as she brings out her laptop. You go through the last few concepts that Professor Bae covered in class, luckily Chaewon had little problems following.

"Great job Chaewon, I think you have everything covered, you're more than ready for the finals, you'll be fine."

"Thank you so much oppa, I-"

You turn your head to see why she stopped talking, only to realize that once again she is far too close to you once more. You can smell the faint fragrance of her shampoo, and it is intoxicating. Like a moth to a flame you draw even closer to her, looking into her shining eyes. Chaewon's face is bright red, but she doesn't pull back. You lean forward even more, wanting to dive into those big and sparkling eyes... She bites her lower lip before shutting her eyes tightly, her lips slightly pouting. You don't even realize it, but your hand goes to her cheek, cupping her face gently. You close your eyes and lean in...

"Oppa, quick, I have a question! We couldn't figure this out at the dorms and- oh my gadness!" The door bangs open, and Yuri comes barreling in the door, dispelling all the tension in the room. The centimeters between you and Chaewon instantly get pulled to a meter as the two of you separate hastily.

Yuri grins wickedly, processing the situation. "I'm so sorry Chaewon unnie, I'll tell the others that oppa's too busy with you to answer our questions."

"Yuri I'm going to kill you!" Chaewon half screams, blushing madly.

You step in before things get worse.

"Yuri, I'll answer any questions you have, just keep it a secret for Chaewon, please?"

"Okay, first question is this." She takes out a notebook and shows you the question she intended to ask. It was straightforward and you quickly explained the solution for her, writing it down so that she could show the others the solution. She blindsides you with the second question, grinning teasingly at you.

"Do you like Chaewon unnie?"

"I..."

"Answer the question or I tell everyone at the dorm what I saw!" Chaewon raises a helpless fist at Yuri, but she doesn't say anything else either. She looks at you intently, and you see no reason to hide it any longer.

"I do, a lot." You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you say it, looking straight at Chaewon. Her eyes widen at your confession, and she shyly bites her lip, turning away from your intense look.

"You're welcome unnie! I'll let you tell him how you feel!" She waves the notebook at you. "Thank you for the answers! Both answers!" She adds cheekily and dashes out the door.

"Jo Yuri you little-!" Chaewon grits her teeth at her friend before turning back to you, the two of you alone again.

"O-oppa, I... I-"

You hush her, grabbing her by the shoulders gently.

"There's no need to say anything now, please focus on the finals, I will see you again for sure." She nods silently, packing her stuff. As she heads out of the classroom she waves at you.

"Thank you for the help oppa, I'll do well for the test."

"I'm not worried, you'll do great, good luck!" You head back to your desk, stowing your laptop in your bag, trying to process what you just said this evening.

The moment you exit the classroom you are ambushed delightfully, feeling the lightest of pecks on your cheek. You can't help but beam as you turn to see Chaewon run down the hallway, her backpack bouncing the whole day. Your woop of joy echoes down the hallway, chasing after her.

------------

The day of the finals comes and goes, and you can't wait to see Chaewon again. But it is more than a week later when you find yourself at Professor Bae's office once more.

"Good, you're here."

"Yes professor?"

"Here are the graded finals for your section, I emailed the class and told them to pick them up during one of the office hours, so just have them ready for your section at your next office hours."

"Got it." You flip through the papers idly.

"Chaewon did great."

"That's not what I was-"

"Shut up, I hear all kinds of giggling from your section whenever I mention the teaching assistants, and Chaewon goes completely red in the face. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Of course not professor."

"Did you two date?"

"No! I made it clear to her that I wouldn't date a student in the class."

"Is that why she stopped going to your office hours?" She stares at you with a knowing gaze.

"...Yes."

"Ugh you guys..." She massages her forehead in frustration. "Well you did the right thing, it could've been a serious problem." She smiles at you. "But once you hand the tests back, she's no longer a student of the class... so go after her, I like Chaewon, and I can tell you do too."

"Uh... right, thank you." You're not sure what else to say, your ears burning a little at discussing Chaewon with your professor.

"Go, good job, thank you for helping me this semester."

"Not at all, thank you for the opportunity!" You give a slight bow to the professor and exit, a big grin on your face at the prospect of seeing Chaewon again.

The hours seemingly fly by, until it is time for your last office hours of the semester. Your students come in here and there, picking up their tests and thanking you for your help during the semester, until there was a stack of twelve left.

You hear a soft knock on the door, and you almost pull a muscle with how fast your head turns to the door, just in time to see Chaewon come through to the door, smiling bashfully at you. She looked adorable in her short black hair, wearing a plaid top and a short black skirt.

"Hi oppa."

"Hey Chaewon."

"I'm here to pick up the tests. You can give me the others too, I told the girls I'll pick it up for them."

"Oh okay, great, here you go." You hand over the tests to her, and she quietly puts them in her backpack.

"Thanks."

"No problem..." The atmosphere deadens, the two of you not knowing what to say, despite how much you wanted to see each other. Feeling the emotions strain against your heart, you go first, not holding back what you feel.

"I missed you, I missed you so much! I like you, I-I want to go on that date with you!" You add hastily. "T-that is, if you still want to...?"

Chaewon dives into your arms, hugging you tightly and pushing you back into yuor chair. You hear her mumble against your chest.

"I missed you too..." Sitting in your lap she looks utterly beautiful. Your heart pounds as you hold her in your arms.

"I couldn't believe you rejected me the first time, I cried all night afterwards." She whispers quietly. You hug her tight against your body, peppering her forehead with kisses.

"I-I'm sorry, I really wanted to, but it wouldn't have been right."

"I know... but still!" Her voice rising a little again.

"I'll make it up to you, let's go on that date now. Should we go now?" You ask her, looking into her pained eyes as she remembers the moment after the midterms. She shoots you a glare, her mouth pouting a little.

"No."

"What?"

Chaewon gets off your lap, going to the classroom door and locking it with a click.

"What are you doing? If we're not going on a date, why did you lock the door, why are we staying here?"

"That's so Yuri or Yena don't come and disturb us." She sits back down in your lap, wrapping her arms around you and straddling your hips. "I want more than a date."

"More than a-" Before you finish your question Chaewon leans into you, her tongue needily probing your lips for access. You allow her in, and her tongue immediately searches for yours, exploring your mouth with passion. You feel her hands on the back of your head, pushing you deeper into the kiss. You elicit a soft moan from her when your tongue eventually pushes back, dipping briefly into her mouth. The moan snaps you out of the passionate makeout.

"Chaewon, we're moving too fast, we haven't even-"

"N-no we're not!" She says... angrily? Determinedly? at you. Her face is red as she follows up in a whisper. "We would've been doing this already if you just said yes then..."

"Chaewon, I, I..." You fall silent, you don't know what to say to that at all.

"Please oppa, I... I want this so much, probably more than you do. Let's just do it here... okay?"

Stunned, you try to buy yourself some time to collect your thoughts. "W-wait, shouldn't we do this at... your dorm, or my place, or-"

"No, I waited for so long, I don't want to wait any longer." She shuts up all further attempts at conversation, smashing her lips on yours. You give in to her desires, wrapping your hands around her lower back, your tongue matching hers in intensity, fighting for dominance. Her hands go to your shirt, trying to take it off.

"Chaewon wait, that's too risky!"

"Fine!" Her hands go a little bit lower to your pants, unbuckling and unzipping your jeans. You feel a soft hand free your shaft from the confines of your boxers, your member already hard from the hurricane of passion Chaewon has swept you up in. She breaks the kiss momentarily, her other hand going underneath her skirt as she lifts her hips. While you are distracted by the touch of her hand guiding you, Chaewon positions herself just so, and with a dip of her hips you are instantly enveloped inside her.

"Oh god Chaewon!" You are blown away by the sudden explosion of pleasure, Chaewon matching your voice with a low moan of her own. "You're so wet..." You gasp out as she looks at you happily with fulfilled desire.

"I told you, I don't want to wait any longer." She presses her forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as she grinds on you. You struggle to maintain eye contact with her, the tightness of her walls forcing you to close your eyes in pleasure.

"Are you f-feeling good?" Chaewon asks between pants and bounces in your lap. You can only kiss her in reply, moaning into her mouth as she squeezes you tightly, your kiss pushing her to higher levels of arousal.

"Good... oppa you make me feel so good. I'm going crazy... so... good!" With a short squeal Chaewon hugs you tightly, panting heavily before melting into your arms with a soft whimper, her body shuddering through her climax. Her walls contract around you erratically, coating your shaft with her juices.

"Are you okay?" You kiss her cheek and peck at her lips, letting her come down from her high.

"Much better than okay..." She smiles at you giddily, her face flushed red in pleasure. "Your turn." Gripping the back of your chair for leverage she begins grinding on you, whining at how sensitive she feels after her orgasm. Your hands slip under her skirt, grabbing her thighs and squeezing them, letting Chaewon know just how good she's making you feel. Feeling you throb inside her, she ups the pace, sheathing you fully with every bounce in your lap, driving you to your limit.

"Chaewon I'm so close, you should get off-"

She shushes you with a kiss. "I came... prepared oppa. I want to feel you, just do it in me." She rides you with purpose, biting her lip as she looks at you, eagerly anticipating your peak. She continues to bob on top of you, her eyes shining with need, wanting to give you the same pleasure she felt. You kept looking into her eyes, the gaze you exchange with her filled with finally requited love, until you could look no longer.

"Ah, Chaewon, I-mmph!" Chaewon seals your lips with a kiss, your eyes forced shut by the strength of your orgasm. As you peak you pull her down into your lap, burying yourself to the hilt inside her, pouring all of your pent-up feelings into her warmth. Chaewon coos against you, her soft body quivering at being on the receiving end of your climax.

"You feel so hot oppa..." She sighs dreamily. You stroke her cheek tenderly, kissing her as you ride out your orgasm, making sure you have nothing left to give. She gets off you gingerly when you finish, the white mess you left in her slowly trickling down her thighs. You grab some tissues, the two of you cleaning up and readjusting your clothes.

Ready to go, you grasp her hand in yours, your fingers interlocking, Chaewon squeezes your hand in happiness as you look at her.

"Shall we?"

She nods at you, and you reach to unlock the door. She leans against you as the two of you walk down the hallway.

"Oppa, you should have said yes back then, so at one date a week that's about... 12 dates you owe me."

"12?!"

"Yes, 12, I'm still hurt you said no back then." She pouts, grabbing your phone and tapping her number in quickly, calling herself.

"That's my number, I'll see you at 7 tomorrow for our date okay?" She looks at you cutely - surely you're not going to say no?

"That's about 12 dates you owe me. I'll see you at 7 tomorrow for our date okay?" Before you have a chance to reply you hear the unmistakable accent of Yuri, and the blood drains from your face as you see a crowd of eleven come around the corner.

"Oooh what were you two doing for so long in a locked classroom?" Hyewon teases the two of you.

"Kwangbae you're dead!" Chaewon snaps at her, blushing furiously.

"Why are your clothes wrinkled? Don't say you just held hands, I won't believe you!" Yena adds in a singsong voice.

"Oppa you better treat Chaewon well!" Eunbi follows up, half playful, half threatening.

"I-I will..." You can only reply, running your hand through your hair in embarrassment. "Why are you all here?"

"We thought it was suspicious when Chaewon said she could pick up the tests for us, she never does anything nice for us."

"Eunbi unnie what are you saying! I always do nice stuff for you."

"Save it! Anyways oppa, can we borrow Chaewon just for tonight? You can have her every night after that, we want to hear all the details!"

"U-unnie! What are you saying!" Chaewon sputters as her friends separate her from you, pushing her down the hallway. She turns around to wave at you, her face still blushing red at being found out. You wave back at her, smiling like a puppy. You turn around and walk the other way, skipping your way back to your room.

Lying on the bed you check your phone to see a text from Chaewon.

Oppa I'll see you for date #1/12 tomrorow at 7 pm okay? I'll figure out where we should meet later.

Sure, I'll see you tomorrow <3

You debate for a while, finally deciding to add the heart symbol at the end. Turns out that was a mistake as you immediately get a call from her.

"Hello?"

"Ooooh a heart!" The rest of it is a mess of noise as you hear Chaewon screaming at her friends. After what sounds like a mad struggle for the phone you hear Chaewon's voice.

"Hello oppa?"

"A-are you okay there?"

"Yes, sorry for the call. I'm going to teach them a lesson now, I'll show them who Ssamu, the leader of Joyuriz is. Bye, mwah!" She hangs up with a click of the phone. Shaking your head you put down your phone and turn off the lights, unable to take your mind off your new girlfriend - you had so many questions for her, like who is Ssamu, and what is Joyuriz?

Whatever, you'll ask her tomorrow, tomorrow is going to be a good day... And every day with her after that.

A/N: Here’s the smut version, most of it is the same, other than the scene at the end. I hope you enjoy one of the versions, thank you for reading!

#smut #izone #chaewon

405 notes · View notes

letarasstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Get-Along-Shirt

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on this post. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it :)

Summary: The Hotchner-Siblings get their own ‘get-along-shirt’. What kind of chaos is going to happen?

Wordcount: 1.4k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

Some days Hotch asks himself why he and Haley thought it would be a good idea to have two children this close in age.

Just a few weeks prior (Y/N) turned 13 and it seems to the single father like it was the beginning to endless teasing, arguing and fighting between her and her one year older brother. Without a fail they constantly clash against each other and drive the other one up the wall. Hotch swears he grew more grey hairs in the past two weeks than in the years prior.

“I tell you one more time, Jack Hotchner, and if you once again choose to ignore my advice I’ll get up tomorrow morning and choose violence. Do. Not. Touch. My. LABELLED. Food. OR I’LL CUT OFF ALL YOUR FINGERS AFTER PULLING OUT ONE NAIL AFTER ANOTHER. DO YOU UNDERSTAN-” “(Y/N) Hotchner”, Aaron cuts her off, “If you continue screaming like that your eaten meal is the least of your problems.”

Huffing the teenagers drops the sentence and sits down on the couch in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest. Jack looks at her and sticks out his tongue. “Wow Big Brother, didn’t pick you out to be that mature.”

“At least I’m not the one, who gets bitchy about food”, he responds. “Well, because you had food that was not yours an you aren’t bitchy, because you are not hungry”, she retorts. “I’m not the one, who gets craz-”

Suddenly Hotch groans. “You know what. I am done. You two stress me more than a hostage situation with a psychotic alpha male.” Then he gets up and leaves the room. Confused the siblings look at each other until their father comes back.

“This is your ‘get-along-shirt’ and I want you two to wear it together till it’s time for you to go to bed. No cheating, no fighting. You learn to get along in it.” With that the father tosses them a monstrous big white shirt with the words written in black Sharpie across the chest area. Unwillingly they slip it on, knowing better than to argue with him in his pissed state.

The rest of the evening goes relatively well considering Jack and (Y/N) were pressed to each other and only have one arm they can use. This is until they go up the stairs to their rooms.

“Jack, when you use your left leg I have to step on my right. It is that easy!” “No”, he declines, “It’s the opposite. When I go left, you go left. Think (Y/N), think!” It is a trial and error for straight five minutes, which Hotch watches amused. This is better than the evening program on the tv.

But the fun doesn’t last long. After the two teenagers get halfway up the stairs, they suddenly lose their balance and roll the whole way down. Immediately the father is right by their side, but they both swim in the fabric.

Due to the closeness and sudden darkness (Y/N) begins to panic. In her frenzied state she thrashes and scratches around her to get out. When Hotch finally gets them out of the shirt he is able to calm her down. Then he assesses the damage that is done.

Jack has several scratches and bite marks, left by his younger sister in her panic. She on the other side cradles her left arm and looks like she is close to crying. “What is it, Honey?” Aaron asks as he sees the state she is in.

The boy looks worried over to her, giving her a run down with his eyes. “My arm, I heard it snap I think. It really hurts.”

And so the Hotchner family find themselves in the ER at 12 in the night. A nurse gives (Y/N) painkillers at first, but they have to wait for their turn due to it being very busy on a Wednesday.

The whole time the older brother hovers over his sister, asking her if she needs something to drink or eat every ten minutes. As they are nearing 2 am on the clock he lets her curl up on his lap to get some sleep (the painkillers make her a bit drowsy) while watching her like a hawk. Or mother hen, choose your own take.

A doctor looks over her fracture at 3 am. Then she gets sent to get her x-rays at 4. At 5.30 am the teenager gets a cast in her favorite color. Jack, Aaron and (Y/N) are finally able to leave the ER at precisely 6 in the morning.

Now one can assume that the father has the mercy to take the day off and let his kids stay at home from school. But one assumes wrong.

“Ok, we are going to drive home, you are gonna change and get your backpacks and I bring you to school. After work I’m gonna pick both of you up, alright?” Both teenagers groan, but still know better than to argue with him, especially since they brought this upon themselves.

A quick change and wash later the three are back on track and right in front of the school. “(Y/N) if the pain gets too much go to the nurse and get her to call me at work, you understand me?” “Yes, sir”, she mockingly salutes and gives him a kiss on the cheek before stepping outside. Hotch holds Jack back.

“Watch after her. We both know that with that cast she is more likely to get herself hurt now than ever.” Jack nods confirmingly, remembering all the times his younger sister injured herself due to her clumsiness.

Not long after this he sits at his own desk at Quantico, rubbing his eyes and sighing constantly. The lack of sleep and the adrenalin crash from last night's event suddenly catch up to him. The team worriedly looks at him from the bullpen.

“He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks”, JJ remarks. Spencer glances at the Unit Chief. “Maybe he hasn’t slept. I mean he has two teenagers at home and a huge workload on his desk. I don’t wanna live with his sleep schedule, but I’m also a blinker.”

“Why don’t we ask him if he needs some help? I mean we can divide his paperwork between all of us and he can go home early”, Emily suggests. But Morgan laughs at this. “Prentiss, we know Hotch. He wouldn’t give us any more work voluntarily. You have to claw it out of his hands or get it over his dead body.”

Penelope sighs. “I’m so sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve any of this. Did you hear the rumor that Strauss is again up his back? Can’t he get a breather?”

“You all are profilers for god’s sake.” Rossi mutters and climbs the stairs up to Hotch’s office.

“Hey, are you alright? I think you groaned more the last half hour than in your first two years here. What is it?” Dave takes a seat across from him. To his and the team’s surprise Aaron lets out a hearty laugh.

“You know how I told you that Jack and (Y/N) are arguing non stop? I took your idea and made them wear a ‘get-along-shirt’. This ended in a night at the ER, because (Y/N) broke her arm while falling off the stairs with Jack. But they both are fine and the shirt did its trick. Though I’m counting on getting a phone call in the next hour, so I’ll go get her and bring her here with a few heavy painkillers. She’ll be knocked out on my couch, so there won’t be any disturbances.”

Aaron continues to laugh every few minutes, whenever he thinks back to the angelic fall of his children, making the team worry even more. But they guess that a sleep deprived Aaron Hotchner is a less strict Aaron Hotchner and they aren’t going to complain. And like predicted, they get to see their favorite teenage girl less than an hour later, sporting a cast with many signatures.

It’s needless to say that they all fight each other off to be the first of them to sign it.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

353 notes · View notes

whippin-cream · 4 years ago

Text

Blooming Day, Part 1

You neve imagined that your engagement would fail, that you would move to Korea, or that by a series of coincidences you would meet your long-term celebrity crush, Byun Baekhyun. You most certainly never imagined that someone like him would take an interest in you either, but he did; and now you’re stuck because you don’t trust like you used to and you just aren’t quite sure if you have the courage to take a chance on him.

Wordcount: 4k

You let out a sigh as you dropped your spoon back into your tea. You wondered how long it would take for the cheap metal to turn the drink as bitter as you felt about the state of your life at the current moment. You flopped back onto the floor, still not having any actual furniture despite having been in Korea for just under a month now.

Who needed a sofa or a nice set of kitchen chairs when you had that homely camping chair you picked up for cheap at the street market? Sure, the arms were flimsy, the cup holder was too small, and it sagged very low when you sat in it, but, it was something and it was yours.

To be fair, you thought, you were never supposed to have been here.

You were supposed to have rejected the opportunity to study for a year in Korea in favor of finally marrying your fiancé in the Spring: transferring to a college just 15 minutes away from the job he was offered at some powerhouse music label.

That was what you had been planning ever since you got engaged 6 months ago. Even found a nice apartment with the view of a park filled to the brim with tall trees and dickhead geese that you liked to watch chase people. You spent so many Saturday mornings with Ethan on the balcony. Nothing sounded better than finally starting a life together with the man you loved more than yourself.

Well, at least until you came home early on your anniversary to surprise him with his favorite dessert and found him balls deep in your (former) best friend.

On the bed you paid for.

The bitch even had the nerve to be wearing the fancy set of lingerie that you had bought for yourself just a few months prior as a reward for acing a particularly brutal exam.

You remember dropping the sweets onto the floor, furiously yanking the diamond off your left hand, and throwing it somewhere in his general direction. You tightly clutched the purse that you never even got the chance to set down to your body and ran back out of the apartment. He rushed after you, yelling some bullshit about how it “didn’t mean anything”, “it isn’t what you think”, and “(Y/N), I love you! I’m sorry. Baby, please stop!”

You didn’t, though. Your brisk walked changed into a full sprint when curious neighbors opened their doors to take a peek at the commotion. They glanced repeatedly between the sobbing girl and the naked man yelling after her. It was by far the most humiliating experience of your life.

From there the details of that day get a little fuzzy, but you remember taking a taxi to the airport and buying a last-minute flight to Seoul. A child kicked the back of your seat for at least half the time you were in the air out of boredom, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him to stop. After a good five hours of doing nothing but staring blankly in front of you, you managed to drift off.

When you came to, a flight attendant was explaining to everyone that they needed to get ready to disembark. Her warm smile and friendly tone did nothing but annoy you. Who gave her the right to be so happy when your world just crumbled beneath your feet?

You knew you were being irrational, but still.

After making it to what appeared to be a small shopping center within the airport, you decided that you needed a drink. Preferably something warm and sugary to get you out of the daze you were in. Luckily, a Starbucks was nestled in between two shops: One being an overpriced gift shop and the other selling fast food that was far too greasy for the average customer. About 20 minutes later you were sitting alone on a barstool, with a half-full venti cup that was most definitely cold by now, but you didn’t mind.

With one more deep breath, you reached into your purse and slid out your phone. You had turned it off immediately after buying your plane tickets and you were scared of the notifications that you would receive. Part of you was even more scared that you wouldn’t receive any.

Was it possible for him to just toss five years together away so quickly? Could you? After all, he did say he was sorry. That it was all just a big mistake, and that he loved you and not her.

But how could he do something like that to you when he said he loved you? You loved him, and you most certainly never slept with another man. Especially not in the bed you shared with him and with his closest friend.

How many times had they done it? Was it truly a mistake? Maybe he had just gotten drunk and it was all one big accident. Your head started to hurt with all the possibilities floating through your mind.

You had shocked yourself with a quick, but firm smack to the center of your forehead. “You don’t accidentally stick your dick in someone else, idiot. Why would he be drunk at 2 pm? He knew what he was doing.”

With your thumb pressing into the power button you watched with bated breath as the welcome screen flashed on. You waited for the notifications to flood your phone; the flight to Seoul was long, surely, you’d have received many texts in that time, right? Your finger tapped anxiously on the screen as it refreshed.

Then, one after another a notification popped up in a bright banner at the top of the phone. There were several voicemails and even more texts. They started out apologetic, parroting the words he yelled after you in the hallway. However, they grew increasingly nasty. Ethan always did have a nasty temper, and it flared up when he was being ignored and when he was drunk.

Judging by how slurred his voice was in the last few messages, and how incoherent his texts became, it was safe to assume that he had downed the bottle of (far too expensive) whiskey he loved to always keep stocked at the house.

While you weren’t able to make out everything he said to you, the gist was that you were just some dumb little girl that he had settled for because you were safe. That he never loved you and that you needed to apologize to him for the scene you created when you left the apartment.

“The neighbors were staring.” Because that was your fault, just like the reason he cheated was your fault too, apparently.

He ended his drunken tirade by saying that you would never find a man like him again and that sooner or later you would come crawling back to him. After all, you were dating up by dating him, he claimed. "What other man would want you?"

Though, you did not go crawling back to him. Not even after he sobered up and the second round of “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it”s started back up again.

It was clear that he didn’t respect you. The only thing your father ever made you promise about how you would date is that you would not tolerate staying with a person who treated you with less dignity than you deserved. You knew that you would never be happy marrying a man that looked down on you. How would your life be anything but constant paranoia with a person that could run around with other women without even acting guilty about it?

It definitely was not easy, and there were times where you did consider that maybe you had overreacted. Admittedly, moving across the globe did seem rather dramatic at times, but going to Korea was something that you wanted to do long before you ever met Ethan. When you tried to look at things in a positive light, you saw that: you got to move on in your life, continue your education, and cross an item off of your bucket list all in one go. Despite trying your hardest to stay optimistic, most days you simply did not have the energy to do anything other than wallow in your own self-pity.

Today was one of those days.

You brought your hands to your chest and rolled over a few times to get on the sleeping mat you wanted to snuggle up in. While it was no Tempurpedic, it was surprisingly comfortable; especially when you wrapped yourself in the soft and bulky you crocheted the week prior.

You slipped off your glasses and placed them a few feet above the mat. Light was still pouring in through the window, so you brought your blanket up and over your head. It covered your eyes while the edge curved down around the side of your face and rested under your chin. You loved the darkness and all-around cozy feeling it provided without having your mouth covered by the blanket. You hated having your mouth covered by the blanket. It never felt like you could get enough air when it was.

Unfortunately for you, the sleep was not as comforting as you assumed it would be. The happy dreams where everything you could have ever wanted and hoped for were nowhere to be found that night, neither were the strange ones that left you with a feeling of confusion that you couldn’t quite shake when you woke up. Instead, you were plagued with watching a replay of your anniversary on loop.

After a few hours, you managed to pry your eyes open. Your skin felt uncomfortably sticky due to the cold sweat you had broken out in. You felt warm tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill over. You blinked them away, angry at yourself for still crying over him.

You felt pathetic.

You pressed the heels of your hands against your temples in a sad attempt to get the thump, thump, thumping in your head to stop. You raked your fingernails down your face, wincing at the slight burn you felt. You snatched the glasses from the ground and hastily shoved them onto your face.

You picked up your phone and tapped on it harder than you probably needed to. You didn’t know what you were expecting to find on your phone, but you hoped that there would be something there that stop the lonely feeling you felt in your chest from consuming you entirely.

Your salvation came in the form of a text from Minji. “CALL ME!!!” It read, several emojis following the exclamation points. It brought a smile to your lips. That was something Minji had always been good at.

You had first met her back in high school when she was taking part in her own foreign exchange program. The two of you became fast friends, staying in contact with one another even after she went back home to Korea. Her personality was bright and warm, and she had a knack for making even the most socially awkward people feel comfortable in her presence.

Despite your history, you had to admit that you were a bit shocked to hear from her. Seven months ago she became a trainee for SM entertainment, and your communication with her went from nearly daily to radio silence. It stung, but you understood. Becoming an idol had always been her dream, and you didn’t think it would be fair to try to distract her from that.

You had let her know when you first arrived in Korea, and while she seemed excited over the phone, she hadn’t seen you yet. You pressed the phone icon next to her name, opting to put the call on speaker because your earbuds were nowhere to be found.

“(Y/N)! You got my message.”

“Yeah, what’s up Minji?” You replied, lightly digging your fingers into your thumb. You couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You wondered what exactly it was that she needed.

“Look, I know I’ve been a bad friend. I have been distant lately, and this isn’t fair. Especially not to you. I mean, you’re the one who encouraged me to even go to the audition in the first place. If you hadn’t of yelled at me until I got off my ass and went…. Well, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

She paused for a moment to take a breath.

“So, I want to make it up to you. I don’t exactly have the money to take you out for dinner or anything, but SM is having a party on Friday. All the trainees that are close to debuting will be there, and so will the established artists. It is supposed to help us build “inter-company relationships”; whatever that means. We are all allowed to bring a plus one, and I want that to be you. There will be expensive catering, and that fancy booze that is so easy to get drunk on since it doesn’t taste like alcohol. The perfect venue for catching up. So, what do you say?”

She sounded slightly awkward, but hopeful as well. Before you could answer she started speaking.

"I know it isn't exactly your scene, but I really want to see you."

"What's the dress code, Min? I wouldn't want to look totally out of place." You replied. You closed your eyes tightly. Minji was right, big parties were not your thing. However, you reasoned, maybe you needed something out of your comfort zone.

Minji squealed so loudly that you recoiled slightly. "Does that mean you're coming? Yes! Nothing too fancy, but not casual either. Remember, simple is sexy, baby."

You snorted and shook your head. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll text you the address.” You heard her name get called in the background. “Sorry, I have to get back to practice now. I’ll see you in a few days. Bye!” The line went dead, and you rolled back over. You felt a contentedness that you hadn’t felt since the breakup wash over you. It was nice to know that you still mattered to someone.

The days leading up to Friday flew by quickly. You had bought yourself a fitted black dress for the party. You wanted to look nice, but you didn’t exactly want to draw any unwanted attention to yourself either. You paired the dress with some flats and kept your makeup minimal as well.

You grinned at yourself and gave a little twirl when you did your final once over in the mirror. You rarely got to wear dresses; Ethan had always gotten upset with you when you tried. He thought they brought on too much male attention, and in the interests of keeping the peace you just gave them up.

You felt pretty.

You felt happy. Truly happy.

A pleasant warmth bloomed in your chest, and you could feel it spread throughout your body. You eyed the perfume you had bought and saved for a special occasion. This occasion, you decided, was special enough.

In 20 minutes time you found yourself in front of the doors to SM Entertainment. They seemed big, and mildly intimidating, but you pushed through them regardless. You sent Minji a text that you had arrived and you moved to stand by some chairs in the lobby.

You dug your fingers into your thumb while you waited. It stung a bit, but the feeling kept you grounded. You took in the architecture of the building, staring in awe at how sleek the whole place looked.

A hand on your shoulder startled you and you turned to see Minji’s smiling face. You smiled back at her, and you were quickly brought into a hug. It was slightly awkward, as a hug was a greeting she reserved for her foreign friends only. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture.

When she pulled away you finally got a good look at her. The first thing you noticed was that she was significantly slimmer. You felt a flash of self-consciousness hit you, but you quickly dismissed it.

“Come on, the party’s this way.”

After a few hallways, and a short elevator ride you found yourself in the reception room. It was loud, and lively. Minji led you closer to one of the walls by the back of the room. It was in close enough proximity to the dancefloor that you two could join in without too much trouble, but just quite enough that you two could talk comfortably. Minji spoke first.

She went on and on about all the funny things that happened in practice, and how she was so excited to have been placed in a group she knew would debut sometime in the near future. She hadn’t been given an exact date yet, but they had started to shoot promotional content. Minji explained that she had done three photoshoots in the past week, and cringed when she talked about how awkward she felt doing her solo shots.

She giggled and grabbed a glass of something pink and pretty from a waiter that was carrying them by. “I felt like I was doing school pictures again. Hopefully these ones turn out a little bit better.” She took a gulp of her drink and then nodded toward you.

“Enough about me. How have you been? How’s the wedding planning going?”

Ah, right. You hadn’t told her about the breakup yet.

You coughed awkwardly and brought your left hand up to show it off. “It’s…” you hesitated “It isn’t anymore. Ethan and I are over.” You averted your eyes, grabbing your own alcohol and downing it. When you looked back at Minji, her eyes were wide and she sputtered out a quick apology. Her cheeks were stained an embarrassed pink.

“What happened?” She questioned before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“I caught him and Rachel in bed together.” You answered simply, not wanting to go into too much detail. You didn’t want to ruin the night that had been so fun so far.

Minji’s face hardened. She had never liked Rachel, or Ethan for that matter. You knew that, and you were hoping to escape an “I told you so”. Minji scoffed. “What an asshole.” She muttered quietly. “Who needs him anyway?”

You smiled at her. “Not me; but what I do need is some more of this.” You held up your empty glass and shook it slightly.

After a few more drinks and reminisced memories you found yourself on the dancefloor with Minji. You felt the heat radiating off of you, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from the dancing, but it was nearly too much for you. You made a mental note to just drink water for the rest of the night, but your head was fuzzy and you weren’t quite sure if you’d be able to resist a pina colada if one became accessible.

You weren’t the best dancer, especially compared to the trainees and idols surrounding you, but you were enjoying yourself. You felt a fresh rush of adrenaline hit you when Exo’s Wolf came on. You were sure you and Minji looked ridiculous when you made wolf ears with your hands at the “awoo” parts, but the two of you were laughing to hard to truly care.

“I haven’t heard this song in so long!” You shouted to her.

She looked at you in surprise. “What? But you love Exo.”

You nodded back to her. “I do, but Ethan didn’t like me listening to them.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, he never really gave me a good reason.” Minji rolled her eyes once again.

“Just another reason to be glad he’s out of your life.” You giggled at her statement. She was right. The more you thought back on your relationship the more you realized that maybe he wasn’t really the prince charming you thought he was. You couldn’t just be you when you were with him. You were the you he wanted you to be. The only thing that you left the relationship with was a monthly payment to a landlord for an apartment you weren’t even living in. Ethan had refused to allow you to take your name off of the lease. So, fuck Ethan.

“Have you met them?” You asked. Her eyes brightened, and she nodded her head rapidly.

“Yes, and god. They are so much hotter in person.” You noticed a shift in her expression then. Something mischievous made its way onto her features. “Are you ever going to tell me who your bias is?”

You laughed. “Fuck no, Minji. Definitely not now. You know them! That would be weird.” You whined. You knew that if you admitted to holding a fondness for Baekhyun that you would never hear the end of it. She pouted at you. Her lip stuck out and it wobbled slightly.

You walked backwards a few steps and she followed. “Puppy dog eyes won’t work on me, Minji.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t know Exo that well. Just tell me.”

“Nope, too weird.” You laughed again. The room was spinning, and everything seemed far more funny to you than it should have. However, your laughter was cut short when you backed into the firm chest of someone behind you.

You felt the warm exhale of breath against your face as a voice you only recognized from interviews and fancams whispered in your ear. “What’s so weird about us?” You froze. A feeling of terror shot down your spine and your face became far hotter than you thought was humanly possible. That voice definitely belonged to a one Byun Baekhyun, and his tone was teasing. “Huh?” He questioned again. After the initial shock wore away, you realized that your body was completely pressed against his.

You shot away from him like you had been scalded. He had a Cheshire-cat grin plastered on his face. “N-nothing.” You stammered. Your eyes were so wide they nearly popped right out of your skull, and you were sure Minji’s were doing the same.

His eyes slowly glanced down the length of your body before his gaze found Minji’s. “Friend of yours?” He asked. She merely nodded in response. He turned his attention back to you and bowed slightly. “I’m Baekhyun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You didn’t respond until you felt Minji elbow you in the side.

You bowed back, slightly lower than what he had given to you. “(Y/N).”

He grinned at you once again. He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair, causing a few strands to fall back over his forehead. His cheeks were flushed red, and you wondered if he was as tipsy as you were. “Minji, we are having a bit of an afterparty at the dorms later. Well, technically it’s supposed to be a mentorship meeting, but we want to make it fun, you know? The rest of your members have already been invited. Feel free to bring your friend along.”

He winked at the two of you, and then he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, not quite sure how to process what had just happened. You glanced over at Minji to find that she was already staring at you. “What the fuck was that?” You whispered to her. You felt a sudden need for secrecy, and it seemed she felt the same way.

“I think Baekhyun just hit on you.” You shook your head violently.

“And I think you’re crazy.” You stated, though conviction was nowhere to be found in your voice.

“You are coming with me to that afterparty.”

“I most certainly am not! You heard him. It is supposed to be a mentorship thing.”

“And you heard him when he said he wanted something more fun that that.” She hissed back.

“Minji.” You warned.

“(Y/N).” She shot back as she raised her eyebrows at you. “If nothing else, come for me. Tonight is our night to catch up, remember?” Your fingers went to your thumb, and you nodded your head. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach and you tried to expel them with a sigh.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

151 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Pack: Not Lost

Summary- 8.5k Alpha Steve x You. You wake up, and your not in your northern home anymore, but deep in Wakanda, in the palace of T’Challa and under Shuri’s care with Steve and Natasha at your side. Can Shuri fix you? Bucky is about to head out with Clint, Wanda and Pietro to bring back who Brock and Alanna took, The White Wolf and his team are ready for the hunt. Warnings- Smut, bad words. It’s a softer chapter.

A/N- Wow, thank you everyone who reads this. I always appreciate thoughts on The Pack, and what you would like to see. Much Love and Happy Reading. 🐺❤️

Chapter 7 / Pack Masterlist

Bucky returning home made him sigh in relief once him and Clint pulled onto Pack lands once more. The White Wolf pacing his mind lifted his muzzle in appreciation, inhaling deeply the cool forests that they called home.

Don't get too comfortable, we're headed out right away. Brock still has Cassandra. Bucky wouldn't even consider another thought, one where Brock didn't have the woman anymore.

Bucky thoughts darkened with worry for her and the White Wolf growled deeply in the deepest parts of his mind. They might have nothing more than a physical attachment to her, but he was responsible for her safety. Brock would pay for ever laying a hand on her. Bucky turned back to his current thoughts, watching the dappled sunlight through the trees, like it was welcoming them home.

The tension ebbed from his shoulders and glancing at Clint, he could see the archer felt the same way, immediately taking a relaxed stance, elbow on the window sill of the jeep, fingers thrumming the steering wheel in the same way the songs beat flowed through the cab. Although it was a known fact the archer was partially deaf to an military accident when he was a younger man, his other senses heightened. He had once told Bucky he felt music as much as could hear it. It seemed so the way his fingers danced on the steering wheel, following the beats' vibrations.

“Never thought I would be so damn glad to be back.” Barton said as the jeep rumbled towards the garage, and put it into park.

“It's a shame we won't be staying, are you sure you want to come with me?” Bucky asked as he opened the door and slid out, preparing to go find Wanda and get a hold of Pietro who should be headed back to the east coast anytime now.

“Of course, I wouldn't have made the offer brother if I didn't mean it.” The Archer said as he stretched and they made their way towards the gathering group, Sara leading them as she was now the acting Alpha till Steve returned.

“Boys, am I damn glad to see you.” She held her arms out, first hugging Bucky and then Clint, stepping back to inspect them. “Although you two are a sight for sore eyes, I just got off the phone with Sam, he said that clean up at Pierces is now going much faster, since Stark’s crew showed up, and he's hoping the pack can come home within’ a day or two if you two are sticking around.”

“That's good, I’m sure Sam is ready to be back home, as well as you.” Sara gave an affirmative nod, the mates bond ached for their partners when separated, her hand absently moving up to the mark Sam left on her years ago, rubbing it absently. “We're going after Rumlow, he's still got a hostage and we need to return her home, safe.” Bucky said, staying vague. It wasn't that he didn't want Sara knowing, the White Wolf was always a bit of a loner, and did not want the whole pack knowing his relationship with Cassandra, especially since he didn't entirely know himself what it was. “Is Wanda around? I would like to speak with her.”

At the mention of her name, she came out of the crowd, and Sara nodded over to her home. How about we all go inside? You three can discuss what you need to and fill me in on what's going on with the Alpha, Y/N and Natasha.” Her arms embraced around the two men, leading them away from the group. When she felt the rest of the pack unsettled behind her, she looked over her shoulder growling softly for silence. She would fill them in on the details later.

Sara ushered them inside of her home, everyone settling in comfortably while she got beers for all of them, and sat down too.

Bucky wasted no time while screwing off the top of the beer he was given. “Thanks Doll.” Turning to Wanda, he motioned between him and Clint. “I was hoping I could rope you and Pietro into coming with me and Clint while we hunt down Brock and Alanna. They took someone, we need to get her back.”

“If that's what the Alpha has requested, Pietro can meet us on the road if you’re ready to leave right away.”

Bucky shook his head, and twisted the bottle in his hand, messing with the label. “No Wanda, this gotta be something you wanna do. Steve, he's fine with whatever you choose, and I know Stark is your Alpha, so really you're a free Wolf here. But she is probably going to be hurt, in ways… I just don't know. I can really use a healer for her.”

Wanda listened intently, Bucky could see that she was discussing with her Wolf, the risks going off with him and Clint could mean for her and her brother, but then her resolve passed over her face.

Partly why I wanted her with us.

“Of course I will come, I will message Pietro. My brother, he will want to come.” Wanda was already pulling out her phone to call her twin, pulling away from the table. “Pietro, how do you feel about…” Stepping out of the room, Sara turned back to the two of them.

“And Steve… How's he doing?” It was easy to sense her worry and concern for her Alpha and friend. Bucky and Clint look at each other a moment, recalling how feral he had turned in the tunnel.

“Not good, he was close to attacking us after Y/N was infected and lost consciousness. If Bucky wasn't there to challenge him, he probably would have. I'm sure Sam told you Tony is shipping them to Wakanda. Banner seems to think that the Panthers might have a solution to bring her Wolf back.”

“Even if they can't, Steve isn't just letting her go. You know him and the Wolf are already attached to her as if they have already shared the bite.”

Clint nodded in agreement and Bucky winked. “Mans got it bad, I bet y’all fifty bucks they have bonded before they get back.” Sara gasped and smacked Bucky's arm.

“You're terrible, betting on your friends like that.”

Bucky grinned as he tipped up his bottle. “Doll, never said I was a good man or a good wolf.”

Inside the White Wolf yipped in agreement, making Bucky’s grin wider.

Clint piped up on the other side of Sara. “I will take that bet.” and Sara pointed a finger at Clint.

“You're no better than him.” Leaving both the wolves laughing as she got up, shaking her head at them. “Bond or not, Steve obviously cares for her in a way he didn’t with Alanna. I cant see him going all the way to Africa on a whim for her.”

Bucky thought about his best friend's earlier relationship, and had to agree. Their bond wasn't there, Steve had lied to himself for years about it, but if push came to shove, Steve would have stayed with the pack first and sent someone else. With You, you couldn't pry him away, if it had been anyone other than Bucky, he would have killed them for coming near you when you first went under.

“Your right Doll, there isn't anything Steve wouldn't do for Y/N, bond or not.” Bucky agreed and Sara gave a knowing smile.

Wanda came back into the room, her phone going back into her pocket. “Pietro’s in.”

“Good, then let's get packed.” Bucky finished off his beer.

You finally tore yourself away from the view of Wakanda, and went back in, much to Steve’s persuasion. Once you settled back down at a nearby table that still provided a view for you to get lost in. Steve drew his hand along the back of your neck, and you tilted it back, looking up at him. “Hungry? I can call down for breakfast before we go back to the lab.”

You questioned yourself a bit if you wanted food, and was met with quiet in your mind. A stillness that made you uneasy. Usually your Little Wolf would be demanding some answers right now. Or food, she would have liked that. That silence tightens your chest in grief that for the first time you felt alone inside. You put on a smile instead and a nod.

“Breakfast sounds good. I'm ravished Alpha.”

He gave a soft smile and dropped a kiss to your forehead. “Right away Little One.”

Steve went to make that call, you turned back to the view. Tilting your head to inhale deeply, thankfully you didn't lose your strong sense of smell, cause it was something to behold. Heavy sweet scents of fruit encased your tongue, tasting it on the air as if you cupped that fruit in your hands to inhale. Rainfall, it was crisper than your lake, but not quite like the streams you liked to jump over. It was a heavy moisture that seemed to dew even now on your skin, the shower outside was reflecting the sun in prisms that danced around the walls of your room. All of it was so leafy and green in your mind, dripping constantly in the lushness under the towering trees that stretched up to your balcony. Steve footsteps drew you back from your daydream, seating himself across from you.

“It will be up soon Little One.” He reached across the table, and weaved his fingers with yours, studying you.

You nodded and gave a light squeeze to his hand. “How many days has it been Alpha, since all this happened.”

“About three, after you passed out, Barton flew us to Stark. Banner couldn't do anything, but he told us that maybe the Panthers could. A plant, Shuri is positive, it's what caused this to happen to you. The dose Pierce gave you, more than it should have been.”

You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying, trying to keep calm, without the help of your Little Wolf now. But you can't help the shimmer of tears brimming your eyes.

<She is so lost without her Steve.> The Wolf whined, and Steve softly agreed with his beast.

“Come here Little One.” He gave a soft tug to your hand and you raised from your seat circling around the table, where Steve opened his arms, and pulled you gently into his hold till you were cradled into him, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other gently tracing your outer thigh, tucking you into his shoulder.

“I promised you that you're not alone, we will find her Little One. Shuri is sure she isn't gone.”

“No? Then where is she Steve? I searched and called for her. She never came.” Your voice was muffled into his neck, and he could feel the wetness falling on his shoulder to slide down his back. “I'm nothing without her.” You said with defeat and Steve shifted you enough to look at him.

“No Little One, that is not true.” He nudged his nose gently against yours, nipping softly at your lips. “You stood up against your abuser just as you are now, and would again. How many times have your decisions been because they are what you wanted, and she supported you? All your choices, the one to escape, the one to trust me, and the one to fight with the pack, all you Little One. You and Her are the same. Even when you can't see or feel her.”

Steve’s Wolf rumbled softly in response, Steve could feel it rolling through his chest, which you felt the vibration, heard it. His way of saying he agreed. You were no less a wolf then before.

A knock on your door made Steve catch your lips quickly, and pull away, calling out. “Give us a minute.” Tapping gently on your thigh to signal you to get up, he reached for a folded robe at the end of the bed, and snapped it open to ease onto you, and while you were tying it shut, he grabbed his own, and slipped it on to go to the door. Opening it, they found Natasha standing there, with a full cart of food.

“Figured I would join you two, if you don't mind?”

“Of course not Nat, there's plenty for all of us.” Steve stepped aside, and when Natasha came in, she grinned seeing you awake.

“Thank God, it's so good to see you Y/N! I thought I was gonna be stuck here alone with Steve.” She ditched the cart once it was inside and went over to hug you, which you were so happily to give back, nuzzling into the red head.

“It's so good to see you to, and I wouldn't subject you to that. What kind of pack member would I be, leaving you all alone with the Alpha. “ Steve strolled the cart past them, snorting at them.

“I see how it is, two against one. That's fine, don’t worry about it. I will just leave you two alone.” He gave a teasing growl while popping a grape in his mouth, stopping at the table.

You and Natasha grin at each other and follow along after him.

“Not like you can eat all this yourself.” You sweep down into Steve's lap, picking up the cup of coffee he just made while Natasha took the seat next to you two, quickly falling into easy conversation till Shuri called for you all to join her in the lab.

Back home Sara was giving the group lasting hugs as they all prepared to leave. Sam still wasn’t back with the rest of the pack, and maybe she was getting a little emotional as she hugged Bucky around his neck. “Stay safe, and come home soon. You hear me Buck? Sam misses it when you take off.”

Bucky couldn't help but grin at this news, and Sara groaned softly. “You can't tell him I ever said that either. My mate would never forgive me.”

At this the whole group laughed, Bucky folding his arms over each other. “Sara, that man worships the ground you walk on. He would forgive you in ten seconds if he thought you were sad about it.”

Wanda arched a brow to see if Sara would deny it and Clint, grinned, knowing full well Bucky told the truth.

“Fine! He really wouldn't, but for the love of god, don't Barnes. Or I won't forgive you.” She said and ushered the three of them to the vehicle. “Be safe!”

Barnes slipped in behind the wheel as Clint and Wanda got in as well, closing the door and letting his elbow rest on the door. “Doll, don't worry about it. We will see you soon” Giving Sara a wink, he flicked on the radio and left.

Sara watched from the side, watching the dust kick up behind the Suv. Trying to battle the unease in the pit of her stomach.

Her Wolf sidled up with a whine, her ears laid back as she watched her family drive away.

It will be okay, they will be home safe. Sam will be home safe. Steve, Y/N and Natasha will be home safe.

Sara didn't answer the Wolf, turning away from the road and headed back to her cabin, clearly not having an answer.

Down in the lab, you stuck close to Steve’s side, again immensely missing your Little Wolf's presence in your mind as you looked around in awe. Natasha followed along close behind, her hand taking your free one, and giving a light squeeze of assurance. Steve's arm was also wrapped around your waist, keeping you tucked in close. His eyes would glance down at you once in a while, and catch yours, giving you a soft smile and pressing his lips to the top of your hair, soft and silken against his mouth as he would mouth softly. “You're not alone.”

You're not alone.

You repeated it back to yourself, and turned back towards the awaiting Panthers. Natasha released your hand while Steve drew you forward to introduce you to the others now that you were awake. Steve could feel the soft nervous shiver that rolled through you, catching these predators scent. It spoke of night stalking in the jungle treetops and danger, although Shuri beamed wide at you, and the King smiled softly. “Alpha, your queen is a true beauty.” Taking your hand he bowed his head to touch his forehead to your knuckles and backed up afterwards. Steve's hand tightened around you slightly. “Y/N, this is the King of Wakanda, T’Challa.”

“Errr, what is respectful to a King? I'm sorry, this kind of etiquette I just don't know.”

Shuri gave a laugh and T’Challa put up his hands. “You have no need to be formal Y/N, that is only for the rituals of old. T’Challa is fine.”

“If we had to bow down every time, his head would get swollen.” Shuri made a motion around her head, and crossed her eyes at T’Challa. You gave a soft laugh listening to the siblings.

“And this is my sister, Shuri.” T’Challa said, clearly ignoring Shuri now. And Shuri bounced forward, slinging her arm around your shoulders.

“What do you say, I drag you away from your Alpha and see if we can't figure out where your Wolf has wandered off to?”

You bite your lip and look up at Steve, who gives a soft nod, and extracts his arm from around your hip. Shuri is quick to drag you away, chatting the whole time while you look over your shoulder one last time at Steve and Natasha before turning back towards her.

“I’m sorry, what?” You can't help but feel your Little Wolf would have really liked her, she was so outgoing and just automatically acted like you two were friends.

“What happened, after Piece gave you the shot?” She asked again and had you sit on an examination table.

“Oh.” You rub at the back of your neck, watching Shuri closely while she tapped on a computer. “It all happened suddenly, the syringe was emptied into me, and then there was pain. All over, and my Little Wolf collapsed where she was, withering in pain, and said she was trying to hold on, but then… she was just… gone.” You wiped at your face, wishing Steve was there, but you could still sense him. Just on the other side of the door, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. Shuri was typing quickly, hissing in aggravation at your story.

“Fucking asshole gave you like five times what he should, no wonder you fell into a coma like state.” Shuri said sympathetically, and tapped her computer till it projected an image.

It showed a flower, beautiful to look at, something exotic like you've never seen in your woods before. You study it closer, the shape of the flower reminded you of a calla lily, the shimmering purple almost glowing that made it almost seem unreal, ethereal.

“This is what he gave me? What is it?” you tear your gaze away and Shuri comes over by you, also looking at the flower.

“We simply call it a Heart Shaped Herb, native to Wakanda. Very rare, and we grow it in a special place, so how Pierce got it…” She bared her teeth in agitation. “We are looking into that. It’s abilities include putting our Beasts into hibernation. Which, I think is where your Wolf is right now. You can't find her cause she's in a deep sleep. Right now.”

“Can you wake her?” You ask, a bit of hope in your voice. And Shuri nods.

“Give me a bit of time, and access to your mind Y/N, and I think she will be back with you.”

You gave a soft pleased cry and hugged around Shuri’s neck, who hugged you back, patting your back.

“My Panther thinks you're absolutely adorable!” Shuri giggled.

In the other room, Steve and Natasha watched the interactions, Steve’s Wolf pacing back and forth, his ears roving back and forth.

Can you hear them?

<No, but isnt going to stop me from trying.>

She is safe here.

Steve switched subjects on the Beast, tilting his head as he watched you stretch out on the table.

Our Little One, she seems relieved.

Not at all, I think she will be okay. I trust the Panther.

The Wolf finally settled down, still watching. <I do to, she is good for our Mate.>

Natasha gave the Alpha a sidelong glance. “What are you two discussing, I can see the way you're concentrating on Y/N that the both of you are extremely focused.”

Letting his gaze break from you as you and Shuri broke apart, and you started to get comfortable on the examination table, he loosened his rigid hold, relaxing slightly. “My Mate of course.”

Natasha let her eyes roam over her Alpha as he went back to watching you, making sure you were safe above all else.

<Do you think he's noticed that he no longer battles denying she is his?> The Red Wolf thoughts echoed in Natasha’s mind. Although she kept a straight face, not letting the smile she could feel bubbling in her chest cross her face. Natasha was happy for Steve, she had been witness to the years before he was Alpha of the Pack, and many times forced herself to bite her tongue at disrespecting Alanna out loud. But her and her Wolf, neither liked the woman who wound herself into Steve’s life at the time.

I do not know, but being a mate is good for him, having someone to call his own.

Shuri spent about an hour tapping into your mind, searching for any sign of the Little Wolf, and finally once she finished, knowing you were exhausted.

“You did great Y/N.” She helped you up, and motioned for Steve to come inside. “How about you go rest with your Alpha, and I'm sure T’Challa has set it up where you two can go do some exploring. Just not too much.” Shuri stressed looking at Steve, who arched a brow, taking your hand to help you to a stand.

“Trust me, my mate's health is first and foremost in my mind.” Steve assured Shuri as he steadied you on your feet, always knowing just where you were at his side even when he wasn't looking at you. You picked up that subtle remark, letting it sink in that he had called you his Mate. Shuri gave a nod, and flashed you a smile.

“I hope to see you at Dinner tonight. T’Challa I’m sure will be extending an invitation. Some of the clans will get together on the palace grounds, and will all love to meet our Northern Friends. But only if you've gotten rest.”

You gave an assuring smile to Shuri as you let yourself lean into Steve. Even without the Little Wolf adding her own desires, you still craved that closeness to him. “Im afraid my attire is very limited.” Steve's hand dipped along your ribs, tracing your body through the wisps of clothing you had been given while here. He started to ease you away, ready to get you back to the room. He could feel the strain the past hour had put on you.

“We will see tonight Highness, if Y/N is up for it.” Excusing the two of you for the elevator, you rubbed at your forehead a bit, and he enclosed you close in his arms during the speedy ride up to your floor, his voice soft as he inhaled against your neck, feeling the rumble more than hear him.

“You okay?” Tilting his head to be able to look at you and you nodded, rubbing your face against his rumbling chest and looked up at him with a grin.

“Im okay Alpha, a shower and nap. I will be as good as new.” Once the doors opened, both of you headed towards the rooms you were staying in, and opening the door, Steve saw someone had brought them up some food. Fresh cut fruit, drizzles of golden honey to spread over it, light and appreciated as you inspected it, surprised to find you stomach rumbling while Steve went to start the shower for you. Taking a slice of kiwi, you put just a touch of the golden sweetness on it, and taste, giving a soft surprised moan at the taste.

“Oh damn.”

Immediately hearing you, Steve popped his head out of the bathroom, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the now made bed. “Find something good?”

You chuckled softly seeing him getting ready to join you in the shower while you were snacking. Licking at your fingertip, you went to pass him to go into the bathroom. “Fruit and honey. And honestly the best I've ever tasted.” Steve caught sight of some golden droplets at the corner of your lip and he grasped your chin, letting his tongue lap at the stickiness. He rumbled softly in appreciation. “It certainly does taste good, on you.” Catching the wicked gleam in his eye, you bit at your lip and thought about going back for more. But he turned you towards the shower with a gentle nudge and chuckle having seen the shift in your expression.

“Later, we’re not leaving right away.”

You relent, and start stripping off your clothes, and let them fall where they land. Your hand tests the water, and then you duck inside, stepping under the rainstorm shower head, tilting your head back to let it flow over your face and into your hair. A rustle behind you and a brush of Steve’s chest across your back had you backing up to give him room. He ducked his head under and gave a vigorous shake of his head, spraying water before he stepped out. “Turn around Little One, let me wash your hair.”

Glancing at the choices provided, you picked up a bottle and flipped the cap, sniffing it. Fresh and clean, lightly scented with a hint of citrus, you handed the bottle to Steve and did as he asked. The Alpha took it and palmed a generous amount. Letting his fingers massage against your scalp, keeping it in a steady deep pressure without it hurting. You groaned, tilting your head this way and that when he pressed slightly.

Steve admired the way the water beaded on your skin, and streaked down your body, the droplets precarious in the curves before falling over the edge and falling away from your body. Your soft sighs made the Beast rumble softly in appreciation, and it rolled through Steve as he pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Close your eyes so I can rinse.” His tone dropped an octave, his Alpha tone. There was no impulse directly from your Little Wolf, but you still didnt even think twice about it as you stepped back under and his hands massaged your hair again, making the suds fall away. A light grasp to your throat brought you back into his chest, his nose tracing the column of your neck, inhaling deeply, and nuzzling against your pulse. A lap of his tongue over what you knew would be his preferred spot to mark you made you shiver in his hold. “Steve?” you questioned, but the Alpha just inhaled one last time and let you go. You waited patiently for him to tell you what to do as his eyes looked down your back. You no longer tried to hide the scars, not like before. His hands eased over them, and he felt that shiver that rolled through you. One day he would touch you there, and you wouldn’t fight it.

“Face me Little One.” Hands eased you to face him, and another palmful of soap was applied, his hands sliding down your shoulders, your arms, then back up. He groaned, not hiding at all how turned on he was just seeing you dripping wet. “Little One, you are so incredibly beautiful.” Down to your full breasts, his fingertips just sliding over your nipples, and rolling between calloused pads, pulling slightly to hear you gasp and that shift in your eyes spark in arousal.

“Even though I'm just me right now?” Your brows furrowed, your head dropping enough for wet strands to hide your face from him in that moment. He was quick to bring your back, palming your breasts and giving a firm squeeze. “

“Little One, Y/N” He used your name to really drive his next words into you. “I still want you just as you are now. If you wanted my bite, I would bond with you right now Y/N, don't think that you're not a wolf just because you can't see the Little Wolf. She is you, and you are her.” His hands massaged your quivering belly, and over your hips to reach behind and clasp your ass, pulling you in close against him. Before you could make any kind of argument against what he said, he claimed your mouth, his size pressing you to step back under the warm spray when he advanced. His hands rinsed you off, warm slippery skin under his palms, curves he had grown intimate with. You couldn't help digging your fingers in slightly on his arms when your back contacted the cool tile, you gasped into his mouth.

“That's right Little One.” He growled against your lips, then lapping his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and over your teeth before once more pulling away, making you lean forward and whine at the loss of contact. “I will always want you by my side.” His hands didnt stop till the reached your waist and Steve went to his knees, his nose sliding over your stomach to kiss and nip around your belly button. Everything he said was true, him and the Wolf were completely enraptured with you, and had a lifetime to find out all the little things that made up who you were.

Changing those nips to kisses, the traveled further town, his beard scraping against your thighs till you couldn't take the teasing any longer, the burn making you wetter than you already were. Your fingers plunged into his hair and your thighs parted so that his cheek could rub up against your inner thigh.

“Again Alpha?” You shuddered, and tipped your head back, moaning when you felt the rasp of his beard again and his nose trailed your slit before he even took a taste.

“You smell so sweet Little One, much better than that honey.” A hand moved from your waist to the back of your thigh sliding to your knee and lifting to hook it over his shoulder. Nothing would be hidden from him, and he kissed your inner thigh pressed near his cheek, firmly biting it hard enough to bruise, leaving his teeth impressions without breaking your skin. The sting made your back arch off the tile, tightening your hold in his hair, hissing with satisfaction.

You could feel the upturned curve of his lips pressing where the bruise would form, but then your Alpha turned his attention to your aching core, and you spied a look down, that made you whimper, clench around nothing yet. His gaze on you wasn't just a man in need, it was a beast. Eyes shimmering a slight yellow as his pupils enlarged, the pink of his tongue escaping to plunge between your folds, and gathered your slick all over his tongue with a deep lap, the tip teasing your clit before going back to inhaling your arousal, making his head swarm, the Wolf to start howling in his lust. You were perfect, completely enrapturing him with those soft mewling sounds above him whenever he honed in on a sensitive spot for you.

“Steve, Alpha” you chanted his name, tugging his hair to press him in more. His beard scraping your sensitive folds every time he took those long laps to spread your slick, and when his teeth would pull at your folds, his lips suck on your clit, it was just a mess of sensations that made your jolt under his firm hold. He would growl at you once in a while out of instinct, his eyes flicking up at you to see you start to fall apart. “Please Alpha.” Begging now for him.

The vibrations from Steve made you clench around him the moment he let his tongue fill you, stroking your fluttering walls and sucking all the juices, squeezing you to give him more. Your thigh ached to close against his head, and you tilted your head back, giving a low wail when he took one more demanding stroke with his tongue. “Little One, Look at me.” The Alphas voice was graveled, not giving an option to deny him, you struggled to look at him, but once your eyes locked, he bit your mound, drawing it into his mouth, while he sucked on your clit, and you knew he wanted you to cum for him.

Another lap, demanding growl and harder fingers, one hand pinning your hip against the cool tile while being misted by the warm water, and Steve's other hand had laid claim to your thigh over his shoulder, his arm folded over it, and fingertips biting in your inner thighs sensitive flesh. When the Alpha looked up again, eyes now a weird mix of yellow and blue, the wolf laying claim to you as well, you broke for him. Flooding his mouth with your release, grinding into him as you stiffened almost painfully, he worked your orgasm from its high to low point, letting you sink down the tile, when he let your leg drop, and when you landed before him, he grasped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, needing to lay claim not just to your body, but to all of you.

Fingers curled at the back of his neck, your eyes closed as your tongue danced with his, when he broke from you, your head fell to his shoulder and you could hear Steve whispering. “I got you Little One, sleep.” and the water suddenly stopped. Somewhere as you were fading away, you could feel his hands sliding around your wet body and then his firm chest cushioning you. Even further away, a barely there howl you were all too familiar with made you stir in his arms, your Little Wolf calling for you before you sunk back into a deep sleep.

When you woke, there was a soft light in the room and that's what your eyes focused on at first. It was a lamp near the bed, and you rolled to the other side, seeking out Steve but he wasn't there either. Rubbing at your eyes to focus them, you inhaled to try and scent him instead. You just barely caught him amid the barrage of other smells, and you would see him on the balcony, ear to his shoulder like he was holding a phone, and leaning forward on muscled forearms against the balconies railing and the muscles in his back were taunt in that position. You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His deep voice drifted back to you in bits and pieces, but you picked up enough to know he must be talking to either Sam or Bucky. After a few moments you pushed the sheet covering you off and started to seek out some clothes, pushing yourself up out of the soft bed.

Hearing the sheet rustle, Steve glanced over his shoulder to see you move to a stand, arching your arms over your head, and the curve of your back dipped further in an arch. Momentarily distracted as he admired you, Sam's voice grew aggravated.

“Steve? Did I lose you?”

Turning away from watching you sort through some clothes Shuri had provided, Steve went back to Sam.

“No I’m here, Y/N just woke up.” He stated and Sam gave a slight chuckle in a knowing manner. “So you are all about to head back home? Were you able to find a temporary Alpha for them till that pack can figure out what they wanted to do?”

“Caine is going to take over, he wants to. Turns out Pierce didn't actually kill all those Wolves he claimed he did. A few, but there's still plenty there. Tony's crew turned up, helped us out. The Council came down. Ross in particular.” Steve heard a slight growl in Sam’s voice, and he couldn't disagree. Ross had a way of pushing the wrong buttons. “Claims he wants to speak with you once you come home.”

“Well his ass can wait. I don't know when I will be home.” A pair of hands slid up his back, and Steve straightened, his arm moving to rest around yours and pull you in against his chest, his nose dipping into your hair and breathing you in while he listened to Sam.

“What I told him. Besides what he doesn’t know wont hurt his ass any. As soon as I get home, we’re picking up those customer orders that had been sidetracked, but other than that things are all good here. Tell Y/N that Sara is ready for her to come home and send your girl our love.”

“Of course, you can tell her yourself actually.” Steve handed you the phone, and you pressed it to your ear, talking to Sam for a few minutes.

“Miss you guys too, I will keep him in line.” You give Steve a look and he gives a playful growl, snapping his teeth near your ear before kissing your shoulder, making you laugh as you hang up the phone.

“Sam seems to like playing Alpha.” You hand it back to Steve while he drops it into his pocket.

“Well good, I will take you on more exotic vacations like this one.” He teased, wrapping you in his arms and you rubbed his chest looking excitedly up at him.

“Alpha, before I fell asleep…”

“In the shower.” Steve had a bit of a grin, and you felt your cheeks get warm at the memory, his hand catching your chin and pressing his lips to yours. “Don't be shy, it was beautiful seeing you like that.”

You could feel your body warm, and the praise settle in, making you feel good. “ANYWAYS, I think I heard my Little Wolf!”

Steve arched his brows in surprise, and the Wolf stirred to hear you, pushing himself up from where he was resting and pacing closer to the front of Steve’s mind.

Did you really doubt Shuri and Y/N that they couldn't bring her back?

The Wolf flicked his ears back and let his muzzle drop, sighing. <Some of me did.>

I was worried too. You're not the only one.

Steve's hands rubbed along your back and grinned at your news, kissing your forehead, and letting his hands move to cup your face. “We will tell Shuri when we go down to dinner, maybe she will be back home sooner than we thought if you heard her.”

You couldn't help the elation you were feeling, that you might have her back soon, fill that emptiness that you have been feeling since that day.

“Dinner? Oh that's right, but I have nothing to wear.” You frowned a bit and Steve took your hand, leading you inside the room.

“Natasha is waiting for you. The Queen and Shuri had outfits brought up for you two to pick from. Nat insisted they were brought to her room, and that you can change with her once you woke up.” Steve loved seeing the excitement suddenly flash across your face, and he grabbed a tee to yank on, and opened the door. “Shall we?” Slipping your hand into his, he led you down the hallway, your gaze wandering. Beautiful woven tapestries, mostly of Panthers lined the hallways.

You were a bit excited, you had never had the opportunity to dress up before, not for anyone. You just genuinely hoped you could give something for Natasha to work with. Stopping a few doors down from you, Steve knocked and Natasha’s voice rang out “Come in.”

What Steve opened the door to was not what you were expecting and your eyes widened taking in the room. There were outfits everywhere and even Steve looking around seemed a bit overwhelmed.

Natasha on the other hand, with a glass of what looked like champagne was perfectly at home, running her fingers over the richly colored fabrics, until she reached you. “Perfect, Alpha I got her. You go get ready yourself.”

Steve gave a half grin looking down at you in apology, and you gave him a gentle push. “Go on, let Nat doll me up, see if I can't make you pant a little later.” You winked as he growled.

“You always do Little One.” Nuzzling your neck he pulled away and Natasha handed you your own glass of champagne while shutting the door.

“Lets blow his fucking mind. Okay, here's what I was thinking.” She tugged you along, and you were lost in a sea of bright colors and girl talk.

They had been on the road most of the afternoon, Bucky got the coordinates from the trackers Steve had sent when Cassandra first came up missing. Wanda sent Pietro a message of where to meet them once Bucky confirmed where the trackers were waiting. It wasn’t anything more than a few hours drive. Meeting up all together in a truck stop diner, late at night. They all crowded around a table, pulling up extra chairs, and the waitress came over, taking their orders. Small talk was exchanged at first, waiting till they would be left alone for a period of time after food was brought to them. Once everything was brought, and their host left them to enjoy their meals, they turned towards the food, each one digging in.

Ravenous as Bucky, Clint and Wanda were, they spoke between bites, Pietro next to his sister would quickly reach in and snag a fry, making her growl at him while he smirked.

“Can't share with your brother?”

“Get your own.” she responded as she dunked it in ketchup and popped it in her mouth.

“Why when I can just take yours?” He grinned and lightning quick grabbed another.

Bucky normally wouldn't say anything, knowing the twins were playing in their usual manner, but there wasn't time for games. The White Wolf growled at the younger Wolves and they were quick to quiet down, Wanda sliding her plate between the two of them to share while Bucky turned back to the trackers.

“Do you have any idea of where Brock and Alanna are?”

They both nodded, the older, a male named Adam slipped a piece of paper across the table. “From what Tonya dragged up about them, they have been staying here for a few months. We checked it out before you all came into town, and sure enough their scent is all over it. And others, I'm guessing it's your woman Bucky.”

Bucky didn't correct him, even though he did catch Clint's side eye.

<Tonight, we can't wait any longer to get to her and pull her out.>

Tonight, as soon as we clear it with the rest.

Bucky looked among the wolves seated around him, and he knew the White Wolf was right. He couldn't have asked for better pack members then what he had right here with him now.

“And the house is currently occupied, we saw movement inside. Someone checks the curtains once in a while although they are closed all the time.” Tonya added, and Bucky nodded, looking at each member of their tables.

“Tonight, after dark, we storm the place. Get Cassandra out, if Brock and Alanna are casualties then so be it.” Bucky said, and there were nods from around the group.

“Well sounds like a good time Alpha.” Pietro grinned from across the table, and Bucky snorted, arching his brows in amusement.

“I'm no Alpha.”

Clint chuckled and slapped his comrades back. “Ya are tonight man, this is your gig. Were along for the ride.”

Wanda nodded at him while dunking another fry, and the trackers joining them shrugged and nodded. “We did our part, we're just following you now.”

Bucky growled out with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know how the fuck Steve puts up with all of you.” The White Wolf shook out his fur, arching to a stand.

Bucky didn't have anything to say to that, he just reached over and stole one of Wanda's fries from her fingers and popped it in his mouth with a grin.

Steve had knocked on Nat’s door, but Nat opened it just a peek, not allowing him to look in. “Were not ready yet.”

“Where is Y/N, is she okay?” He asked trying to look over Natasha’s head, inhaling deeply your scent that was reaching him, but she blocked him, hands moving to her hips.

“She’s just fine Steve. Now go on downstairs and we will join you soon.” Natasha worked on closing the door. But the Alpha and the Wolf were not entirely ready for that and his foot blocked it from shutting completely.

“Shouldn't I escort you ladies down? That is the gentlemanly thing to do after all.” The Wolf huffed in laughter at his attempts, but Natasha shook her head, green eyes glimmering in amusement. “I will escort her, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.” Pushing his foot out, the door closed on Steve, and he relented.

“If you're not down in ten minutes, I’m coming back up!” He raised his voice through the heavy wooden door and tilted his head listening. Natasha’s distinct laugh on the other side.

The redhead had her ear pressed against the door, listening to Steve's retreating steps before turning back to you, wriggling into the dress. “You think he's really going to like this?” You pressed once more as you turned in the mirror and Natasha tilted her head, inspecting you.

“Y/N, you got my wolf howling.” Grabbing her lipstick and turning you towards her, applying it on. “Just need this last touch. Done.”

You took one last look, smoothing a hand over the lush fabric, Natasha grinning over your shoulder while also admiring you in the full length mirror. “Trust me Y/N, he will not be able to contain himself.”

Steve had entered the banquet room, to see Wakandians milling around, the Wolf in him alerting all the non wolf predators in the room, his hackles raising slightly and shaking himself out like he was trying to shake out the nerves.

It's okay, they are friends.

<I know, I know.> The Wolf paced around a couple times and started to settle back down in his mind. <Still makes me nervous.>

T’Challa approached him with a friendly smile, still keeping a bit of distance, sensing the Alphas' wariness. “Welcome Roger’s, it's an honor you were able to come.” Steve was first to hold his hand out, and gave a shake.

“Y/N and Natasha will be down soon, they are still getting themselves prepared.”

T’Challa gave a smile in acknowledgment, motioning towards his sister who was excitedly talking with an older lady. “My mother and Shuri were rather excited to be able to send up some clothing for them. How are you three settling in? Accommodations are suitable?”

“Excellent, Y/N is rather taken with the balcony and the view. Over the canopy this morning a flock of macaws caught her eye.” T’Challa laughed with a nod.

“They come by every morning, loud beasts aren't they.”

“Hell yes.” The Alpha grumbled good-natured. “But stunning. Thank You again for opening your home. Should you ever come to the states, we would love you to visit The Pack.”

“I might take you up on that.” T’Challa was quick to surprise Steve. “I plan on traveling there in a year or two to New York. Dr.Cho who works for Stark is tackling the genetics issue of your children, and is hoping to exchange her work with ours, to resolve it. At least let your females come to term easier and safer in their pregnancies. We've had good luck here, again thanks to Shuri.” Steve took interest in this, he couldn't fathom getting into specifics, as he wouldn’t understand, but the problem had plagued the Wolves for a lifetime. “We're only waiting cause Dr.Cho is still doing her own studies. We have similar issues, but separate species and all. I honestly don't understand much of it, but Shuri seems very hopeful.”

“That’s incredible. Do you really think you could help us?” Steve had given up the idea of having his own children years ago, but now if you two decided to make it official, it could be a possibility.

The Wolf had started to grow excited at the prospect.

<Imagine the cabin with our children, bringing them to Little One in the morning so she could cuddle with them.> Steve's mind was filled with images of you with a full bump, the sight of you in the moonlight, bathing in the glow. Inhaling deeply to simmer himself down, the whole idea… well it set the Alpha on edge.

“It is always a possibility. Never say never Alpha.” The King gave a shrug and looked over Steve’s shoulder, his face brightening up. “And here comes the ladies now.” T’Challa turned towards where Steve had entered, and the Alpha caught sight of Natasha first, but then she stepped aside to talk to you, and Steve could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

You were always beautiful to him, he had a hard time keeping hands off you. But when you came in, The Wolf howled your song, and his own eyes widened a bit. Rich blue was wrapped around you, loose and flowing at the bottom, the top hugged around your waist and cusped around your breasts, showing off all those curves Steve had gotten familiar with. A simple bit of silver adorned your throat. Natasha had done your hair in a manner that wasn’t your usual style, but it framed your face in a wispy gentle way. Your hand smoothed down the curves of your side, and looked around. He could even see you tilting your head up a bit, nose in air seeking him out with closed eyes. Images of you again dancing in the moonlight struck him and the Wolf growled softly, need, lust, desire. It was all hitting Steve at once. Would he be able to last through this dinner?

443 notes · View notes

taelme · 5 years ago

Text

Enemies-to-lovers!Bang Chan

request: Hey! Can i request and enemies to lovers slow burn with bang chan where they dont like each other but theres undeniable chemistry

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, workplace/office!au, (fluff, slow burn, lots of denial of feelings lol)

pairing/s: Chan / Reader (ft Seungmin and some ocs!)

word count: 21k rip I got pretty carried away

tw: not any prominent ones that I can think of, kind of hints of the whole misogyny in the workplace kind of thing

a/n: I got super carried away writing this I hope you guys like it haha im currently working on the other requests so do look forward to those!! ill try to put them out as soon as I can~~ all this staying at home is really giving me time to write... ( I HAD TO use this gif I just HAD TO) but yes this was a little hard to find reasons why y/n wld hate chan bc im for the chan is an angel agenda but I ended up having so much fun ok BYE

“Hey, you free to get lunch later?” You’d bumped into your friend who worked in the company’s legal department, Seungmin, on a Thursday morning while you were in the pantry preparing coffee and tidbits for your boss.

You nodded, “uh-huh,” mixing the coffee absently, “what are you doing here?”

Seungmin shrugged, leaning against the counter as he munched on a cookie, “felt like taking a walk. Things have been pretty busy in the legal department lately.”

“Why?”

Seungmin gave you a cheeky smile, shrugging, “can’t say, but you’ll find out soon enough.”

You rolled your eyes, gritting your teeth with feigned menace towards him (his smile stayed unwavering, even sticking his tongue out at you to mock you).

“Who’s that for?” Seungmin gestured to the coffee mugs on the tray.

“Mr Bang’s supposed to be meeting his nephew or something, he made it seem really important but all he told me was that it’s for his nephew,” you shrugged, glancing down at your two cups of coffee, realisation hitting you.

“Shit, that just reminded me. He said his nephew doesn’t drink coffee. Do you want this?” You shot Seungmin a pleading look, holding up your now unneeded cup of coffee.

Seungmin scoffed, taking the mug from you wordlessly, “how exciting your job is, huh,” he deadpanned, sipping the coffee, “wanna reconsider joining the legal department now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m perfectly satisfied with my job now, thank you very much.”

You’d prepared a pot of tea, careful not to spill the water onto the counter as you did so, transferring the pot onto your tray, “and plus, considering the amount of money I get paid for the amount of work I do, I’m more than happy.”

Seungmin scoffed, “should’ve known it was because of the money.”

“Alright, I’ve gotta go, see you later,” you said, picking up your tray as Seungmin waved his hand with cookie crumbs on his fingers, the clicking of your heels growing softer as you walked further away.

Reaching the door of your boss’ office, you’d been able to faintly make out 2 silhouettes through the window from where you stood, composing yourself to make a good impression as you knocked on the door. Hearing your boss grunt, you’d pushed the door open with your shoulder, your gaze focused on the coffee table as you greeted your boss.

Setting the pot of tea on the table, you’d cast a glance at the recipient, your eyes widening when you’d spotted the boy with dyed hair sitting on the plush leather sofa facing your boss, dressed in a clean white button-down and tie, an equally well-ironed pair of pants, his posture relaxed with his legs spread casually.

His gaze was on you, as if analysing your movements, making you direct your gaze back to your task at hand, setting the saucer with the cup of coffee onto the coffee table, placing the small biscuits your boss liked in the middle of the two.

Holding the tray close to your chest, you cast a glance at your boss, about to bow in greeting and head back out when his voice had stopped you.

“Y/N, please, stay here. I’d like to discuss something with you and my nephew.”

Your eyebrows raised, lips pressed tightly together as you nodded, “oh…cool, alright.”

“Please, take a seat,” Mr Bang gestured to the space on the sofa next to his nephew, making you seat yourself awkwardly on the other side of the sofa, your body pressing against the armrest as if trying to create as much distance as you could between him and you.

“So, Chan, this is my secretary, Y/N,” Mr Bang gestured to you, “Y/N, this is my nephew, uh… Chris,” he spoke, the name sounding fairly familiar to you. Chris Bang? You sounded the name over in your head, not being able to connect the dots as to why it was so familiar at this point of time.

“So, sweetheart, because I’ve been planning on resigning for a while now, I thought I should let you know that I’m planning on handing my position over to Chris.”

Maybe this was what Seungmin was so busy with.

You nodded slowly, trying to understand the implications this decision meant for you, “will my contract be terminated, then?”

Chris glanced at you, as if searching your expression. He found you fairly younger than he’d expected, since his uncle had mentioned earlier that you’d already been working for him for quite some time, going onto 2 years already.

Of course, he didn’t want to underestimate you, but knowing the directors’ reputations regarding secretaries, he wasn’t sure if he could put a label on your abilities without seeing them for himself, first. And to him, he wasn’t quite understanding of why his uncle was so insistent that he needed a secretary, his past experiences with secretaries all being quite unimpressive.

“That… is unfortunately up to Chris, but ideally your contract will resume as per normal.”

You glanced back at the boy, who looked at you with an unreadable expression, something about his stare successfully unnerving you, the way he looked at you almost with a certain level of contempt.

“We’ll be having a company dinner tonight to welcome Chris to the team, it would do the both of you well to get acquainted with each other before the board meeting for ceo elections.”

You nodded slowly, still clutching the tray close to your chest as you wondered how old he was, the whole ordeal seeming as though it were something out of a movie: a young apathetic heir getting authority over a large corporation at such a young age. Was he even qualified for this position? The rest of the directors were nowhere near his age, well, appearance wise.

As if having read your mind, your boss spoke, “I’m sure you two will get along just fine, considering you two are so close in age.”

Your eyes narrowed, something in you not feeling comfortable with this arrangement. Dismissing the thought quickly, you shrugged, figuring it would be a change of scenery from being around the old directors all the time.

You watched as Chris shrugged.

“We’ll see.”

===

“Who?” Seungmin dabbed at his lips with his towel, picking up his glass of water to take a sip, making you frown, still trying to do your research on Chris Bang as far as your browser app would take you.

“Chris Bang. He’s gonna take over the company from President Bang.”

Your words seemed to have elicited a giggle from Seungmin, “doesn’t that make them both ‘President Bang’?”

Seungmin ignored your eye roll, continuing, “this was what I was referring to just now, you know. I thought you would’ve known who he was by now,” he told you, making you set your phone down on the table, open on his LinkedIn page that frankly wasn’t giving you much other than stating how very qualified he was for the job.

“You know, Bang Chan? Ring a bell? That guy that’s been switching departments for God-knows-how-long since last year. The one that got all of us donuts one time,” Seungmin gave you a ‘duh’ look, considerably unamused.

“Oh,” only then were you realising just who that was. You knew exactly who he was. You’d heard many rumours from the other secretaries on how he was impossibly good at anything he’d set his mind to, his work ethic and standard incomparable to anyone else in the company they’d ever seen.

Which was why all that switching departments start to make sense to you, since it could’ve been his way of making sure he learnt the ins-and-outs of every department by the time he took over. If that wasn’t just more evidence that he was definitely a crazy workaholic.

At the time, you’d made a passing comment on how you hoped you would never have to be his subordinate, after having heard stories on how intimidating he was whenever it came to work (especially work that was improperly done). Little did you know that your comment would come back to bite you in the ass so soon.

“Yeah, ‘oh,” Seungmin mimicked you, taking another bite out of his burger, “why d’you seem so…,” Seungmin made a pained groaning sound as he gestured to you for lack of a better word, “about it, anyway? Shouldn’t you be happy? He’s super nice!”

You scrunched your nose up, locking your phone in your dismay, not wanting to see his face on his stupid profile mocking you with all his stupid qualifications anyway.

“I don’t know, just kind of feels a little sudden. And I hate the feeling of not knowing if I’m gonna be fired since it’s not up to Mr Bang anymore.”

“Which one?” Seungmin joked, making you scoff, finding it just a little funny. Only a little.

Seungmin continued, “you’re just mad because him taking over means you actually have to do work.”

You shot him a glare, your silence being an acknowledgement that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“And because I love Mr Bang! He was such a nice old man that checked in on me and gave me life advice. I’m not gonna get any life advice from someone that’s basically my age.”

Seungmin huffed in amusement, bringing his hand up to cup his mouth as if to divulge a secret, dropping his voice to a strained whisper, “transfer to the legal department.”

You sighed, “no, I still love my pay.”

“Then stop sulking! Chris is the nicest guy I’ve met, you’ll be fine. Just show up to the company dinner tonight and fluff him up a bit,” Seungmin shrugged, “it’ll be smooth sailing from then on.”

===

You figured you should’ve tried to do a lot better to fluff Chris up during the company dinner, instead of just going over to grill the meat for the directors, under the instruction of President Bang.

The action itself didn’t sit right with Chris, who didn’t understand why it was so imperative to the directors that you be the one to grill the meat until he realised just why they were keeping you there.

His own uncle was oblivious of course, simply obliging at any chance he got to show off how capable you were (even if it was just grilling meat), however Chris was quick to notice the way they stared at you as you reached between them to grill the meat, your face feeling hot with the steam from the grill.

“Y/N is very hardworking, graduated at the top of her class in college,” Mr Bang mentioned pointedly, making Chris’ eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Really? What did you study?” He spoke, knowing very well you were listening, the other directors not paying any attention to learning your background as they prompted you to pour them a drink. You didn’t miss the way his words were accented, remembering hearing from Seungmin that he’d spent a large chunk of his life in Australia.

Tipping the bottle, you’d answered (albeit a little preoccupied).

“Law,” you sat back on your heels, “minored in journalism.”

Chris frowned, not being able to understand why you would’ve chosen to work here as his uncle’s secretary of all things if you had pretty good prospects on your own.

“How’d you end up working for my uncle, then?” He voiced, your attention diverted when you’d been prompted by a director to take a shot of your own, clinking your glass obnoxiously and leaving you with no choice, an embarrassed flush on your face.

Taking the shot, you winced at the burn of the drink, glancing back at Chris, who was still looking at you curiously, wondering how you’d felt under the attention of the directors.

“Did it as a temp job at first,” you told him, “but I guess I realised halfway that I don’t mind it so much, and it paid me pretty well.”

Chris hummed, you ‘don’t mind’ this?

One of the directors let out a grunt of distaste, “you shouldn’t worry about that, doll. The job of a secretary is to look pretty, the pride of the company is in its secretaries,” he said, clearly having already had one-too-many drinks, his words leaving an awful aftertaste on your tongue, his hand going over to grasp your shoulder, his hand going down to your arm and squeezing.

“I always told her she’d do well as a housewife. That way she wouldn’t have to work and just mooch off her husband.”

You mustered a smile, setting the bottle of drink down and bowing to them, Chris having lost his appetite at the way you’d just let their comments slide.

“Maybe she prefers mooching off of the directors, instead,” Chris murmured, his sharp tongue getting the better of him, catching your attention as you were walking past him, making you stop in your tracks.

Chris’ uncle tut his tongue, nudging the boy harshly, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“What? Just speaking off of observation.”

You turned around, a surge of confidence arising in you (from where? You weren’t sure, maybe it was the fact that in your eyes he was still what was standing in between you and your possible severance pay), “excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, was there any untruth in what I said?” Chris turned, his gaze almost challenging you to speak out against the directors, not knowing that it was only serving to spur you on to speak out against him instead.

You scoffed, Chris standing up and awaiting your answer, a voice in you screaming at you not to be intimidated by him, especially with the way his head tilted down ever so slightly, his eyebrows raising expectantly.

“Didn’t know they would just let any rude petty kid run any company these days,” you narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms and straightening your posture.

Seungmin, who was watching from his table with the legal team, grimaced, deeming Chris’ expression to be anything but friendly at the moment.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s just a little unbelievable to me that I’m supposed to be answering to someone who just got the company handed to him,” your words were coming out faster than you could help it. I mean, you were probably going to get fired anyway, right? Might as well go down with a fight.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Chris muttered, his voice firm, annoyance laced in his tone. Your words seemed to have triggered a spark in him, annoyed that you were doubting his abilities, blatantly disrespecting him even after knowing he could be your superior.

Mr Bang had tapped Chris’ calf harshly, “enough, don’t keep y/n from eating.”

Ignoring his words, Chris had stepped forward, staring you down as the tension had only thickened between the both of you.

“But then, what would you know, right? What was that again? Right. What are you here for other than to look pretty, hmm?” He tilted his head at you, flashing you a smile that was practically dripping with sarcasm.

You practically seethed with anger, your fists clenching as you unfolded your arms, your finger coming up to point at him, “you know what? I’d rather eat beansprouts for the rest of my life than work for you.” You scoffed.

Chris' amused lilt to his smile was only serving to annoy you even more, making you storm over to your table with the other secretaries, all of them casting you looks of concern or shock that you would have confronted him like that. Picking up your jacket, you’d scoffed, casting him one last look before you left, not expecting to see him again afterwards.

Well, that was the part you were very very wrong about.

That night, you’d called your boyfriend over to submit him to a seemingly never-ending rant about Chris, getting a text from Seungmin halfway.

“I mean, isn’t it good, then? That you can find another job?” Your boyfriend tried to reason, pressing a kiss to your neck as you straddled him where he was sitting leaning against your headboard.

“That’s not the point,” you insisted, pausing to read the text that Seungmin had sent, oblivious to his urgent kisses trailing up to your jaw.

seungmin (personal) 2:12am -consider yourself lucky. Spoke to Chan just now, make sure you show up to work tomorrow.-

“The point is that, he’s arrogant. What? Telling me that I’m only here to look pretty?—“

“In his defence, you insulted him first.”

You glared at your boyfriend, “Yeah, fine. But he provoked me first. And I don’t know, something about him just pisses me off,” you tried to reason, your boyfriend’s kisses beginning to distract you from your anger.

“You know what, maybe you should just give him a shot. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems?”

And so you did as Seungmin had instructed, doing what you would’ve always done, grabbing your boss’ morning coffee before going to the office, ‘leisurely’ making your way upstairs as you tried to avoid any possible suit-clad blond-haired man.

Upon reaching your desk, you’d set your things under your desk, opening your scheduler and doing a quick run through of Mr Bang’s schedule for the day, grabbing the coffee and knocking on the glass doors before entering.

“Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see.” You nodded, walking over to place his coffee onto his table.

“You have the board meeting in half an hour, sir,” you informed him.

“Right, thank you. Would you be a dear and be there to serve the refreshments?”

You nodded, “yeah, sure.”

“If all goes as planned, Chan- I mean, Chris, will be taking over from next week onwards. So this week will be the last week i’m here.”

You frowned, “it’s a shame you’re retiring, you know,” your disappointment was evident in your tone.

Mr Bang simply waved you off, “it’s about time, I’m sure little Chris will do a good job.”

You’d kept your mouth shut, nodding as he stood up with his coffee cup in hand, looking at you with a smile, “shall we head down a little earlier, then?”

You nodded, opening the door for him to exit and following him silently to the venue of the board meeting. You were surprised, to say the least, when you’d reached only to find Chris there already, currently in an animated conversation with one of the directors, smiling like you’d never seen before, dimples showing on his cheeks.

Excusing yourself quickly, you’d gone to the pantry to prepare the drinks, your time here having made you familiar with the respective directors drink preferences. Carrying your tray carefully, you’d pushed the door open with your hip, seeing all the directors seated already, all seeming fairly comfortable around Chris, only serving to make the feeling of dread build in the pit of your stomach.

Making your way around the table, you’d distributed the drinks to the directors personally, refusing to make eye contact with Chris as you gave him his stupid cup of tea.

Once the meeting had started, you’d dismissed yourself outside the room, a part of you trying to listen in on the board meeting but not being able to hear much through the thick panelled glass. You were surprised when barely half an hour had passed and you’d heard applause in the room, peeping through the window to see Mr Bang give you a signal that you could come in.

Pushing the door open carefully, you saw the directors practically lining up to congratulate Chris, leaving promptly after looking all-too satisfied with the outcome of the meeting.

Mr Bang was speaking to Chris as the rest of the directors were leaving, “well, I guess this means my work here is as good as done. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to hear the news,” he pat Chris on the back.

You were about to head out with Mr Bang, eager to avoid Chris when you’d heard him speak, “Y/N, I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Is that alright?” He cast a look at his uncle, who waved him off.

“Of course, she’s not my secretary anymore, remember?” You cast Mr Bang a look of distress, seeing him chuckle before giving you a thumbs up, exiting the room happily.

You winced, turning around so you were facing Chris, seeing him walk over to where you were, holding out a thick bound stack of papers for you to take.

“What’s this?”

"A contract. You can pass it to me by the end of the day once you've made your decision. I trust that you're familiar with reading contracts?" he asked as you stared at the papers, flipping and scanning through the print, realising that his terms were considerably more demanding than his uncle.

"You'll be able to find an additional attachment where I list what I would expect in a secretary. Feel free to consult me if you're unclear about any of them, though I don't think you would need to."

Your eyes lingered on the section of the contract, stating that you would be on a year of probation, but that the contract could be terminated whenever he felt appropriate.

"Whenever you deem appropriate?" you scoffed, looking up at him in disbelief.

He smiled, "very pretty wording, don't you think?"

"That's all I wanted to say. Remember, I'll expect your response by the end of the day."

You stared blankly as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it on one arm.

"Go ahead, what are you waiting for? You can go for your lunch break now," he urged, before his features pulled into a look of realisation, "oh, forgot. That is, unless you would rather eat...what was that again? Beansprouts?"

Your mouth opened, making as if to retort before you shut your mouth quickly, your eyes widening as he walked over to you, his gaze intense and serious, a contrast to the demeanour he wore while chatting up the director previously.

"I can handle myself, you know," you attempted to defend yourself, watching as Chris had shrugged.

"You have one whole year to prove that to me."

In that one year of working for Chris, you'd learnt a lot of things. Not only about your position as a secretary, but about Chris, ( not to mention, just exactly how spiteful he could be ).

1. Sleep was a luxury.

In your first week as his secretary, Chris had surprised you with the sheer rate of progress he was aiming, and moving at. It was as if all the rumours you'd heard before about his work ethic were a gross understatement of his tenacity.

You'd been having trouble adjusting to his deadlines, especially since he had entrusted more tasks to you. From surprise presentations, to drafting up proposals and reports, not to mention submitting research to him. To you, it felt as if you were doing half the job for him.

In short, you had never missed Mr Bang more than you did then.

Of course, Seungmin being your voice of reason, would shut your rants down, claiming it was ‘about time you do your job’, but of course, you loved to complain. Especially since it was someone you didn't have very fond feelings for that was assigning you the work. You grew increasingly irritated in the time you were adjusting to your sleep schedule, which Chris, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed.

Because of your changes in brain activity levels, you assumed (google could only diagnose so much), whenever sleep came to you, you welcomed it with open arms. Since waking up had become even more of a chore to run over to the coffee shop and squeeze yourself between the crowd of working adults and panda-eyed college students to get his very specific breakfast order.

You'd gone home from a birthday party of your boyfriend and your mutual friend, things having gotten a little...out of hand at your boyfriend's apartment since it'd been so long since you'd been able to spend time together, not with you always falling asleep during video calls or refusing them altogether for the sake of getting your work done. You'd missed him, and something about being apart made you miss his touch.

Jolting awake, (as if your body had been able to tell that your sleep was too smooth), you'd instantly sensed that something was wrong when you saw the light streaming in from behind the curtains, knowing for a fact that you usually woke up when it was still a little dark out.

Turning around, you'd fumbled for your phone on the bedside table, letting out a loud gasp when you saw the time. You were already a whole half-hour late.

"Shit!"

Your boyfriend startled, letting out a groan, his arm still lazily draped over your stomach.

"Did my alarm ring?" you asked, shoving his hand off of you and groaning, slipping out of bed quickly as you put on your clothes from the day before, not having any more time to go back to your apartment and get a fresh change of clothes.

"I don't know, I didn't hear anything," you heard your boyfriend mumble from where he lay.

Cursing, you'd ran over to his bathroom, washing your face quickly, a gasp leaving your mouth as you inspected the angry marks on your neck through the mirror.

"I hate you so much," you tugged up the collar of your turtleneck, successfully hiding the marks when you’d let your hair down.

Grabbing your things, you'd sprinted downstairs, hailing the first cab you could see and heading to your office.

Was he going to fire me? You were still on probation, so there was no reason he couldn't, right?

You'd fixed your hair anxiously as you jogged into the lobby, your shoes clacking noisily against the floor as you ran into the lift, even debating on whether taking the stairs would have been a better idea as the lift went up at an achingly slow pace.

Finally reaching your floor, you’d made your way to the meeting room, tossing your bags outside the door and entering with your laptop, notebook and pen, keeping your head down and avoiding Chris’ gaze as he was presenting to the room.

Taking your seat at the only empty seat left, (unfortunately, closer to the front of the room), you’d let out a small sigh. Expecting to hear Chris comment on your tardiness or whatnot, you opened your laptop, picking up on the minutes where you could.

Keeping your head down, you’d felt your colleague from the marketing team lean over to you as Chris had given everyone some time to analyse what he was showing on the screen, his lack of a comment making you even more anxious.

“Your hair’s a mess,” she whispered, making you wince, your hand going up to comb your hair into a ponytail in your attempt to look neater, hearing your colleague gasp.

“Dude! Put your hair back down, your neck,” she whispered, your eyes immediately darting to Chris’ direction, seeing that he was in fact staring at your jaw and neck as well, turning away quickly, the reddening of his ears giving him away.

Your hands let go of your hair as though you were burned, hearing your colleague snicker beside you, “I see someone had fun last night. Was that why you were late, too?”

You shushed her as Chris cleared his throat, embarrassment flooding your senses as you continued to take minutes, hoping that he wouldn’t be as mad at you if you showed that you were trying your best. Fat chance, but hey, you could dream.

Chris had started to assign things that he’d wanted the different departments to focus on for the project at hand, flashing a slide of deadlines that you watched people scramble to confirm with their existing information. You were secretly hoping someone would hold him back with a question so that he was too busy to confront you.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case today. The meeting ended promptly, Chris leaving you in relative silence as you packed up your things, your colleagues giving you a look of sympathy as you followed him silently out of the room back to your desk.

“In my office, please,” he murmured.

You fiddled with your fingers, already anticipating for him to fire you.

“Can you explain to me what happened this morning?”

Your eyes widened, not daring to meet his gaze as it flickered between anything in the room other than him, “I uh..I didn’t um…I didn’t hear my alarm ring and nobody woke me up so I overslept.”

Chris’ stare was unwavering, leaning against his desk and folding his arms, “so is it not your responsibility to make sure you show up to work on time?”

“No, yeah of course it is—“

“Then I would like to see you be accountable for your mistakes,” he continued, “I’m not saying you can’t make mistakes, everybody makes mistakes. But if your mistake is what puts an entire room of people at an inconvenience, I would prefer if you were a little more apologetic about it.”

You’d let a short period of silence fall between the both of you, “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze fixed firmly on his shoelace, “am I fired?”

Chris let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “No, but, you know, if you ever let anything like this happen again, I won’t hesitate to fire you,” his voice was stern, annoyed almost.

“And Y/N, if this,” you looked up at him watching him gesture to his neck with his hand before gesturing back to you, making you cower, tugging your collar further up your neck, “is what’s the issue here. I’d suggest you start prioritising.”

“Sorry. It won’t happen again, I swear,” you rushed to speak, bowing quickly before exiting the room as fast as you could, wanting to tear your hair out in both annoyance and embarrassment.

You’d jumped when you heard the sound of your desk speaker, Chris’ voice sounding through the phone, “Is there a problem, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, rushing over to your desk phone, shaking your head as you pressed the button to reply, “no, no! Not at all. There was just a… a bug here.”

Chris huffed, bringing his hand up to hide his amusement, watching you scramble to regain your composure.

2. Chris was a workaholic

It was seeing (and experiencing) all the late nights in the office and the erratic pattern of his emails on weekends that drew you to this conclusion. His routine of sleeping late and then proceeding to get up at ungodly hours to either get work done or give up on the idea of a smooth sleep, since you were aware that he tended to have trouble sleeping. Not to mention the way it seemed to you as if the top priority in his life was his work, wanting to do his best to get the company to where he wanted it to be.

After a few months of working for him, it was very clear to you that your job entailed not only taking care of his work, but taking care of him.

You were going over to the legal team's office to collect the binders Chan had left to them, seemingly needing one of them now, thankful to have spotted Seungmin along the way as he was leaving his desk.

Shooting you a look of sympathy, he'd peeked his head out to glance at your area, noticing everyone else in your team had gone home already.

"Working late again?"

You were sure you looked horrible, with bags under your eyes and your complexion looking dull from lack of sleep, but well, you had to earn a living, right?

You shot him a pointed look, "you know the rules, can't go home until the boss goes home," you heaved a pained sigh.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if he even has a social life," you thought out loud, earning an amused grunt from Seungmin.

"I could say the same about you." You ignored his comment.

"What d'you need?" he asked, though you were already making your way to his superior's desk, grabbing the file and leaving a post-it to say it was with Chris.

"Nothing, just this." You let out a small grunt at the weight of the binder, your wrists aching from all the filing you'd done that morning and afternoon (you never did notice until now how inefficient Chris' uncle's document organization system was).

"All the best," he gave you a thumbs up, earning a pitiful pout from you before you'd headed back to Chris' office.

Knocking on his door, you'd heard him murmur for you to come in, pushing the heavy doors open with your shoulder as you shoved your way through the doors, placing the binder onto the coffee table where he'd had his documents and laptop laid out haphazardly.

Chan's hair was a mess, likely from running his hands through it as he worked, his tie discarded and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, looking at you with tired eyes.

He was about to ask you for some water, but you'd seemed to have read his mind, walking over to the table near his desk and pouring him a glass of warm water from the flask.

"I'm almost done with the filing, but I'll be outside so you can let me know if you need anything."

You'd felt your pocket buzz with a notification, momentarily taking your attention away from Chris.

Chris glanced at the files before looking back at you in thought, stopping you before you could exit the room, "actually, can you help me to write a report on this, I'll need this by tomorrow afternoon."

Knowing Chris' deadlines, that meant he would've needed it by tomorrow morning, which left you no choice other than to start working on it now.

Chris picked up a small file with a post-it note stuck onto the file, handing it to you.

"The points are all there. I would've done it myself but by the looks of it this is gonna take a while more than I expected," he sighed, his hands on his hips as he stared at the pile of papers in front of him in disdain.

Chris never would've admitted that he'd started preparing the post-it notes for you in case he wasn't able to complete his work in time, since he usually opted to write from his head, but he knew you worked better with structure. He'd only realised after starting to do it that it helped him draft the write-ups more concisely, so of course, the reason was always 'for his own convenience', never creating opportunities for you to think he actually tried accommodating to you.

"This current arrangement is very un-environmentally friendly," you mumbled, staring at the papers as well.

"I'll go get this done now," you gave him a nod, exiting his office as you pulled your phone from your pocket, the text from your boyfriend practically glaring at you, asking if you were able to meet that night.

10:47pm - sorry, working late :( gotta work on a report due tomorrow morning -

Biting back your disappointment at having to bail on your boyfriend again, you'd nodded resolutely, pulling up your delivery app to order food for Chris before you started on the report lest he start to get irritable because he was hungry.

And lastly, the point you couldn't quite seem to wrap your head around, was that

3. He was very nice, just...not so much to you.

After the oversleeping incident from before, it was safe to say you'd never let a similar mistake repeat itself. You were constantly making sure you were alert and responsive to anything Chris could possibly throw to you (and he knew this too).

The only downside Chris saw to this, was that it seemed as though your attitude towards the directors hadn't changed. Still swallowing their disgusting comments and serving them with a smile, even if they were looking everywhere but your face. It irked Chris. And it irked him even more that the only one you seemed to serve without a smile, was him.

Unbeknownst to him, you'd shared the same sentiments.

"Do you ever look at someone and wonder what is going on in their head?" you spoke.

Seungmin snorted, "wait, are you talking about the meme or..." your lack of a response made Seungmin follow your gaze (or glare) to where Chris was seated at the other end of the table, giggling and smiling as he spoke with the other secretaries.

"Ah," Seungmin nodded, understanding now why your spoon hadn't moved an inch from your bowl, your grip around it almost death-like.

"What are you so mad about? He's not doing anything?"

You shot Seungmin a pointed look, your voice lowering to a murmur, "can't you see it? With them he's all rainbows and unicorn shit but with me it's like just smiling would kill him."

You heard the secretaries letting out giggles and impressed sounds at something Chris had just said, the sound itself enough to make you annoyed.

Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed, looking at you in scepticism, "you know the secretaries are only being nice because they're interns, right? I heard from one of them that they're actually really scared of him."

Seungmin brought his chopsticks to his mouth, taking a piece of food from your bowl that he knew you weren't going to eat anyway, "especially after they saw how he spoke to you during the meeting the other day,"

You scoffed, "good to know that I was the warning."

Your phone buzzed, signalling a text from your boyfriend. Strangely enough, it'd been a while since you'd texted him, since you were busy with work and he was busy with school.

Ignoring it initially, too distracted by Chris, it wasn't long before you saw his caller ID show up on the screen, getting Seungmin's attention.

"I think you should answer that," he gestured, making you glance around the table in your hesitance, not knowing if it would be rude to just exit halfway.

Picking up the phone-call, you'd turned your head, lowering your volume to a murmur, "hello?"

"Hey, can we talk? I really need to tell you something."

You winced, "is it urgent? I'm at a team dinner right now."

Your boyfriend sighed, scoffing, "it really is always work with you, huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You glanced at the table, standing up to excuse yourself. Chris's expression read confusion, eavesdropping on a secretary asking what happened, Seungmin replying that it was your boyfriend calling.

You'd made your way outside the restaurant, Chris glancing in your direction and spotting you walk past the restaurant's windows, a part of him shaking off whatever curiosity that lingered in him as he focused on his conversation. After all, you did tell him you could handle yourself, right?

Where you were, you'd moved to a quieter spot outside the restaurant, "okay, I can talk now. What's up?"

You kicked at the ground absently as you awaited his reply.

"Look, are you free to meet tonight? There's something I need to tell you."

"Uh..." you glanced into the restaurant, making eye contact with Chris before looking away, "I've got to work later, though. I need to get some research done for this review that i'm behind on, I don't wanna meet you if i'm just gonna end up on my computer while you're there, you know?"

Your boyfriend nodded, "you know, that's kind of what i wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh," a feeling of dread was building in your stomach, recognising your boyfriend's tone to be the one he used whenever he was talking about something serious.

The first time you heard it was when you witnessed him on a work phone-call, the second being how he spoke to your parents the first time they'd met, but this time, you had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Let's break up."

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond to his words.

"Is it, um.... is it because of my work?" You asked, a part of you not being able to come to terms with the fact that it could have been your fault, "because you know I can't do anything about that."

Your boyfriend sighed, "I know. I'm just talking about how you've been so emotionally invested in your work you don't even have the energy to maintain this relationship."

You frowned, "what, what do you want me to do, quit my job? Will that be better for you?"

"Look, i've been seeing someone," he began. Your heart sank.

"And i'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the reason. But... it was only when I started seeing her that I realised... things between us just weren't the same as before."

Your heart felt heavy, a part of you knowing that he was making it a lot easier to be mad at him by confessing what he did, but another part of you couldn't help but prompt him further.

"When did it start?"

"That doesn't matter-"

You sighed, taking your lower lip between your teeth, "it's fine, I just wanna know."

"Fine, it was about a month in from you working for your new boss."

You nodded slowly, still trying to process his words. You weren't quite sure what came over you when you saw Chris exiting the restaurant, turning to face your direction and spotting you in the alley. But it was as if you were so mad at yourself, mad at him, mad at your boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend now), that you'd ended the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your blazer before heading over to where Chris was.

"You guys aren't going home?" you heard one of the secretaries ask as you and Chris had approached his car, his driver already sitting in the car and waiting.

Chris shook his head with a smile, "nope, we're heading back to the office."

You mustered a smile as you bid them goodbye, you guessed this was probably the best time to bury yourself in your work as a poor coping mechanism after a breakup, as far as movie breakups went.

The car-ride was silent, despite the pinging of your phone, making you switch it to silent mode halfway, earning a curious look from Chris, though he didn't make to ask you about it.

Upon reaching the office, the both of you had gone back into your clockwork routine, as you sat in his office working on your computer and scribbling down on your notebook the important details you wanted him to check. Chris found that your background in law and journalism made it a lot easier whenever it came to reading and condensing information, which had only allowed him to trust you more when it came to getting tasks like that done, saving him precious time he could spend working on other things.

The buzzing of your phone was growing more frequent, though it was as if you were oblivious to it now as you typed away at your computer.

"Right, can you help to postpone tomorrow afternoon's meeting, and help me to make a reservation at the steak place, 2 people."

You hadn't made to move, pulling your phone out but having gotten distracted at the multitude of missed calls and texts just because your boyfriend wanted to 'make sure you were okay'. Please.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" you heard Chris call, snapping you out of your daze as his gaze searched your expression, trying to read your emotions.

"Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't hear you."

Chris sighed, his annoyance at your phone that had lit up with a call again getting the better of him, "you know I don't ask you to stay later just for you to waste my time, you know."

Your gaze hardened. There it was, the side of Chris that you had the 'privilege' of being at the brunt of, nowhere near the smiley giggly Chris you witnessed at the restaurant just now.

"I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do?"

Chris huffed, his gaze darting to your phone as he spoke, "reservation for 2 people tomorrow afternoon, the steak place my mom likes. Postpone tomorrow afternoon's appointment with Director Lee." He told you slowly, his tone as if speaking to a young child, which only served to piss you off even more.

"Who's calling you?" he asked.

You shook your head in dismissal, "my...uh..." you weren't sure how to respond, watching dumbly as he made his way to where you were, lifting your phone to read the contact before letting out a huff.

"Okay, well you can tell your boyfriend that if you're gonna be this distracted at work, you can kiss your night goodbye."

You inhaled deeply, absolutely upset but knowing there wasn't much you could do about it. You loved your job, even though you hated to admit it. Ever since Chris came in, you were getting a lot more work experience and exposure, especially with how he would make it mandatory for you to attend certain language courses that would help him whenever you accompanied him on networking events or business galas.

And in that moment, you couldn't help but think back to what he'd said the first time he'd scolded you when he'd told you to figure out your priorities. Maybe your boyfriend called you at the right time, maybe you just weren't ready to focus on things other than your career at this point of time.

Turning your phone off, you'd made sure Chris saw that it was off, raising your hands up in surrender, "done. I'll book your stupid reservation now." You stalked out before Chris could chime in with a 'watch your tone'.

===

You'd been working for Chris for what was coming to 2 years now. The company had been reaping the results of their hard work for a while now, and you were thankful that even though you weren't as busy as before, you still managed to keep your job. Other than the fact that Chris’ hair was now back to dark brown, not much else had changed.

Although, one tiny change you were starting to wish for was that Chris would at least try to make things a little more bearable for you.

You were currently at a meeting with the directors where Chris was presenting the overview of the company's performance in the past month. You would have to say you were pretty satisfied with the work you'd both done on that, working a lot more efficiently now compared to when you'd first started out.

Your silent admiration of the presentation was interrupted when one of the directors summoned you over to ask for a cup of coffee.

Doing as you were told ( much to Chris' dismay ), you'd gone and come back in record time with his hot cup of coffee, bending down and making your way to where the director sat, not wanting to prevent any of them from seeing what Chris was presenting.

While he was presenting, it didn't take Chris very long to realise why the director had kept asking you for things, your position from where you were squatting next to him making it all-too-easy for him to ogle at you without you noticing.

For some reason, this seemed to have gotten on Chris' nerves, especially because that director's secretary was simply minding her own business at the back of the room.

Did Chris think what you were wearing that day was nice? He'd say he didn't but of course he did. But unlike the director, he preferred not to be so blatant about it, especially because you were always so rude towards him.

You'd tensed momentarily when the director had grabbed your arm, about to get up when you heard Chris' voice get louder.

"Y/N, I'd appreciate if you would stop distracting the directors and go back to your seat."

(Later on, Seungmin would be struggling to hold back his laughter in the printing room when Chan told him to tell you to button up your blouse a little more.

“Why can’t you just tell her yourself?”

Chan scoffed, “knowing her, she’s just gonna think I was looking at her… chest or something.”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes at Chan teasingly, “well, were you?”

Chan waved him off with a groan, “just tell her, okay? The directors are having a field day with her looking like that.”)

You'd almost scoffed at the way the director had immediately let go of you, and you straightened up quickly, heading back to sit with the other secretaries.

"That was harsh," you heard one of the secretaries murmur to you, making you shrug.

"Whatever, not like I expected more from him anyway."

(You did, you totally did. You'd kill for him to be less grating with his words).

After the meeting, you'd felt a phone ring in your bag, pulling it out to see that Chris' mom was calling, obviously not having been able to reach him. Making your way to where he was, you'd interrupted his packing of his things.

"Your mom is calling you," you'd told him out of habit, holding his phone out for him to take, jumping slightly when you'd heard one of the directors let out a dismayed grunt.

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?"

Your eyes widened, Chris seeming to be enjoying the situation play out before him as you regained your composure, looking back at Chris with a sickly sweet smile on your face. In front of the directors, you couldn't act up like how you usually did when it was just the both of you, so you had no choice but to be all smiles

"President Bang, your mother is calling you," you told him, and if you were annoyed, you didn't show it, having years of practice from dealing with the directors.

"uh-huh," Chris smirked, taking the phone from your hands and answering it as he gestured for you to help him gather his papers.

"No, mom. I’ve told you already, i’m really fine with how things are now. I'm not going on another one."

Not that you cared, but you had to admit you were kind of curious as to what he was so insistently refusing.

"Yes, okay, bye," he hung up, handing the phone back to you.

You'd tried your best to suppress your curiosity, seeing as he was about to be late for his next meeting with one of his friends if he hadn't hurried.

Fixing your blouse, you'd carried your laptop in your arm as you walked with him back to his office, with you going into the lift first, Chris having chosen the wrong time to step in as a girl you recognised as one of the interns had done so too, the number of people squeezing into the lift causing her to jerk her arm, her coffee landing unceremoniously on Chris’ tie and shirt.

Chris let out a hiss at the temperature of the liquid, eliciting a long string of apologies from the girl. You knew that if it was you that had spilled the coffee, he would be going on and on about carelessness now, but the intern obviously wasn’t you, and so you watched in envy as Chris had given her a smile, dismissing her apologies quickly.

“It’s fine, really. I just hope you still have some coffee left to drink,” he laughed.

Not only was he not upset, but he was joking with her too?

You scoffed, rolling your shoulders back as you’d watched the numbers on the elevator rise till it reached your floor, the girl looking scared for her life when you’d cast her a look, bowing to you apologetically.

“Where did you keep the spare change of clothes?” Chris asked as he’d begun loosening his tie.

You hadn’t responded as he let you walk before him into his office, making your way over to one of the cupboards at the side of the room and opening it, pulling out a hanger with a nicely ironed set of work clothes.

“You can go and get changed, I’ll wait here,” you murmured, Chris walking over to where you were and giving you his stained tie.

God, you hoped his dry-cleaning run wouldn’t make you late for your lunch appointment.

Looking at his tie, you brought it up closer to your face to inspect the material, it was a well-made tie, you had to say. Not too skinny, the material feeling almost luxurious in your hold, tempting you to put it on in your boredom.

Hanging it round your neck, you mustered your best ‘Chris accent’.

“You should be accountable for your mistakes! Don’t you know how many people you’re inconveniencing? Now I have a tie that reeks of coffee, look,” you held up the tie with a gasp, “and my secretary’s gonna be late for her lunch meeting!” You pointed accusatorially at the small black penholder that sat on his desk.

“Yeah! Do you know how much you’re inconveniencing me? I don’t ask you to show up to work to waste my time—“

You’d stopped in your tracks when you heard Chris clearing his throat, grimacing as you tried to regain your composure, taking off the tie as quickly as you could, holding it tightly in your palm as you turned to face him.

“Having fun?”

“No,” you shot back quickly, not even wanting to ask how long he’d been standing there.

Walking over to you, he’d handed you his stained shirt, his expression like that of a parent that had caught their kid doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.

“You know, sometimes I wish you’d talk back to the directors like how you talk back to me.”

Your eyes widened, confused at his sudden comment, but not having the time to respond as Chris continued.

“Get these dry-cleaned over lunch. The stain’ll be harder to get out the longer you wait.”

You huffed, already walking away from him, “well, when you say it like that I’d might as well go do it now.”

You'd been keeping yourself busy with replying emails when you heard the elevator ding, the sound of footsteps getting louder before you saw a considerably young, suit-clad man walking towards your desk.

"I'm here to see Chris? I'm Director Kang," he told you, though you didn't need him to introduce himself, knowing very well who he was.

"He's in there," you held a finger up to signal him to wait as you picked up your desk telephone, pressing a button to page Chris.

"Director Kang's here to see you."

"Okay, send him in."

Chris closed the work he was doing on his desktop, making his way over to the leather couches as he saw his friend enter the room.

"Yo, when were you planning on telling me about your hot secretary?"

Chris' eyebrows raised, "didn't think that was something worth mentioning."

"Well, why not?" his friend frowned, his features pulling into one of shock, "wait, don't tell me... you guys are dating?"

Chris rolled his eyes, "no, we're not. And please, for both our sakes, don't try anything funny with her."

The director was about to respond, interrupted by your knocking on the door, the door opening slightly so you could enter.

"Can I get you anything? Like a drink? Coffee? Tea?" you asked.

The director simply looked at you curiously, sitting with his ankle resting on his other knee, "only if you'd care to join me."

Chris glared at his friend, shutting him up quickly before he could say anything more, "coffee for him, I don't want a drink."

You nodded, exiting quickly.

"What did you come to tell me about?"

"Must I have a reason to come and visit my beloved friend?"

Chris rolled his eyes, "my time is precious."

This made the director scoff, "is that your excuse now? Anyway, I came to ask if you were going for Brian's wedding next weekend."

"Oh, yeah, right. He asked me about it last night and I said I would go, you?"

Director Kang rolled his eyes, "can't, I've got a business trip that weekend."

Chris hummed in acknowledgement, "that reminds me. I should get a gift for them soon. Who'd he say he was marrying again?"

"This girl he met at work, she's nice. But, you know, not my type."

As if that wasn't enough, Director Kang continued, "anyway, are you bringing a date?"

He was interrupted once again by the sound of your knocking, the door opening as you made your way over to them, bending to place the cup of coffee down onto the table, making Director Kang gesture to you with his head, mouthing 'you should bring her'.

Waving him off, Chris was eager to get Director Kang’s attention away from you, almost as if wanting to protect you from getting swayed by him, knowing the outcome was never too bright.

"Y/N, you can go for an early lunch break today."

Your eyebrows raised, the prospect seeming almost too good to be true. Since when was he so nice?

"Huh? But I still have some stuff to hand the legal team..." you sounded unsure, though you did consider this to be luck since you were supposed to meet one of your friends from college for lunch today.

Chris gave you a stern look, waving you off, making you raise your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.”

On your way out, you’d texted your friend that you were gonna be able to meet earlier, pleasantly surprised when she’d told you she was already in the area and that she was able to head over now.

You’d managed to drop off Chris’ clothes for dry-cleaning before heading to the restaurant, spotting your friend already seated at your table.

“Hey! Wow, you look great!” She told you, giving you a hug in greeting.

“Feel a lot better compared to last year,” you joked, making her frown.

“Your boss still giving you trouble?”

Shrugging, you’d taken a seat, “nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like it’s part of his daily routine to annoy me.”

She laughed, “I ordered our food already, if you don’t mind.”

Shaking your head, you waved in dismissal, “no, yeah, I don’t mind. Thanks. Anyway, you look pretty good yourself, how’ve you been?”

You didn’t miss the way she’d leaned closer to you, tucking her hair behind her ear in a pointed gesture, drawing your attention to the large gemstone on her ring.

Your eyes widened, “no way.”

She nodded, “I wanted to tell you sooner but you were so busy! I was glad enough I managed to squeeze in this lunch with you,” she told you, making you pout.

“When’s the wedding?” You asked.

“Next week. We’re going to have it in this beautiful church out of town, really really nice place,” she told you, “really romantic, too,” she added as an afterthought.

You let out a deep sigh, “I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going with this.”

She gave you a scandalised look, pausing as the waiter had come to deliver your food, “first of all, Brian has a lot of good-looking friends!”

You gave her a look, prompting her to continue, “well, not that I’ve seen all of them but he tells me that a lot of them are single! And you know who else is single…” she pointed her finger towards you with an overly excited glint to her grin.

“We’ve been through this a million times, Eujin. I’ve tried but it’s really hard to find a guy that’s willing to cope with… you know, my kind of schedule,” you gave her a tired (wistful) sigh, “and with my schedule, I doubt I have the time, not to mention the energy to date.”

Eujin’s lips twisted into a frown, “but it’s been so long! Don’t you want to get back in the dating scene?”

You scoffed, cutting into your food harshly before taking a bite.

“Of course I do. But the last time I went on a date the guy basically shat on me for being a workaholic,” you huffed, “I mean, my boss’ working hours means my working hours, shouldn’t they just shit on him instead? Why is it my fault that he’s basically destroyed what I have left of a social life.”

Eujin shot you a look of sympathy, “I’d say I pitied you, but it’s not like you can’t get a job anywhere else, you know?”

You’d kept your mouth shut at that, “I know… it just… I can’t just leave when I’ve already gotten so used to how things work here.”

Of course that was one reason, but you would never admit that there was a nagging inside of you that didn't trust Chris to look after himself if you weren't here, remembering how he'd overworked himself during a crucial period after he took over the company, and you'd found him passed out on his desk when you showed up to work that day.

You'd sort of made a silent promise that as much as you didn't like him, you still cared for him in a way. In the way a secretary would care for her boss, totally.

You decided to change the topic, not wishing to talk about your hopeless love life at the moment.

“What’s the program gonna be like?”

Eujin’s eyes lit up, setting her cutlery down as she clasped her hands together, “Okay, so. The plan is for it to be a sort of weekend-long thing,” she told you, holding her finger up.

“Firstly, on Thursday night we’ll have a little girls night type thing, and then Friday is the rehearsal dinner, Saturday will kind of be a little rest day and then Sunday is the actual wedding,” she said, now holding up four fingers to you.

Your head was spinning at the (rather enticing) thought of taking basically 4 days off of work, before the dread settled in that you had to ask Chris for permission to take those days off.

“I hope my boss will let me take time off…” you murmured, already rehearsing in your head possible ways on how you could tell him.

Eujin gave you a resolute look, “you can do it! If he says no just let me know, I’ll go over to your fancy office and fight whoever he is myself.”

===

“How many days?”

Chris had asked at your desk as he prepared to leave to meet his mom for lunch since she’d happened to be in the business district.

You fiddled with your pen anxiously, “uh..4 days? Technically 3 and a half. But 2 of those are weekends I just need you to make sure you just don’t bother me on that weekend it’s a really important weekend.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, unsure why you were so insistent on him leaving that weekend alone, nodding slowly.

Whatever, he figured, she’s just lucky I’m busy that weekend too.

“Okay.”

“I swear I’ll—wait, you’re okay with it?”

Chris shrugged, straightening his tie, “yeah. I’ve got something on that weekend too.”

You let out a surprised hum, “oh… cool. Thanks…Mr Bang,” you added as a force of habit, not wanting to risk getting scolded for ‘insubordination’ again just because you didn’t call him by his honorific.

Chris huffed, leaving before you could see his ears reddening.

Over lunch, Chris’ mom had been inspecting him carefully as he ate, as if the answer to her worries lay in every piece of sushi he ate.

“Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you… gay?” She asked, continuing, “because if you are you know you can just tell me, instead of constantly upsetting the girls I try to set you up with.”

Chris gave her a unamused look, “mom, I’ve told you a thousand times. I would really love to date, but it’s hard to find someone with a similar work ethic as myself, that can keep up with my… lifestyle and who really understands my needs, you know?”

This made Chris’ mom perk up, “that’s it! Why don’t you just date your secretary!”

Chris almost choked on his sushi, fumbling to grab his glass of water to calm himself down and compose himself.

“What,” he spoke between coughs, “gave you that idea?”

His mom looked at him in disbelief, “whatever you just said, you were basically describing her, no? And plus, we’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about her from your uncle.”

Chris couldn’t help but entertain the possibility in his head. It was true, you did work at a very efficient pace with him, not to mention how spending almost everyday in such close contact with him made you understand his own needs and wants even better than he did on occasions. Chris shook his head, that wasn’t possible, right? You looked as though you’d absolutely hated him half the time, he’d be expecting too much from you if he’d expected you to fall for him.

Chris shook his head, dismissing the thought from both him and his mom’s minds quickly, “no, mom. I’m fine with how things are between us right now.”

Chris had let you leave the office earlier on Thursday, (much to your surprise) allowing you to have ample time to pack your bags and get a cab to the destination, Eujin having taken the liberty and helped you book your hotel beforehand.

Upon reaching, you’d texted Eujin saying you’d reached.

eujin 6:54pm -yay!! Lets just chill in one of our rooms, we can discuss it in the chatgroup!!-

Trust her to be excitable even about the smallest things.

You saw an incoming text from Seungmin.

seungmin (personal) 6:54pm -what where r u I went over to find u but both u and Chris weren’t here-

6:55pm -im at a friends wedding, took the weekend off-

seungmin (personal) 6:55pm -wow finally using your employee perks nvm then have fun-

You’d checked in, marvelling at the cozy yet elegant look of the hotel as you made your way through the lobby, letting the lift take you up to your hotel room floor.

Changing into more comfortable clothes, you’d seen the group chat saying to gather in Eujin’s room, with mentions of ordering pizza. Considering this was your first weekend away from work in a very, long while, you were determined to make the most of it, heading over to Eujin’s room.

You hadn’t expected to be welcomed as warmly as you were, hearing comments of ‘we were so happy you could make it!’ Or ‘thank God you could take time off!’, sharing the same sentiments as them as you’d let Eujin pull you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets and pillows instantly making a content sigh leave you.

“I ordered room service,” Eujin sing-songed, gesturing to the Champagne bottles and whatnot on the tray next to the bed.

“I’ll have one,” you raised your hand, earning a laugh from one of your friends.

“Tired from work?”

You let out a loud groan, nodding. This made Eujin nod gravely, “I swear, if I ever see your boss in real life, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

You scoffed, “you don’t even know what he looks like.” You’d gratefully accepted the glass of champagne that was handed to you. "and plus, he's not that bad, other than the fact that he finds joy in pissing me off. He just works too hard in my opinion."

You’d spent your time enjoying the once chance you could relax to your heart’s content without feeling dread at having to wake up early the following day, enjoying yourself as you leant against the headboard of the bed, listening to stories about how they’ve been and how all of them were either planning on getting engaged soon, were in long-term relationships or already married.

“You guys make me wanna get married too,” you pouted, earning bouts of laughter from them.

“You’d have to actually date to do that, you know,” they told you pointedly, making you sigh.

“You’re basically married to your job, already,” your friend chimed in, making you laugh.

“Seems like that, doesn’t it? I was super shocked he’d let me have the weekend off, usually he’d be swarming me with emails about now.”

“I’m excited to see Brian’s friends tomorrow, maybe there’ll be someone that catches your eye,” Eujin told you, making you shrug.

“Just out of curiosity, though, what are you looking for in a guy? You know, we could help you keep an eye out too.”

You hummed, shrugging.

“I’ve never really thought of a specific…criteria I guess. I guess I’d just like someone that’s kind, looks out for me, doesn't underestimate me...sort of has the same lifestyle as me? Since it’s honestly been really hard to find someone that doesn’t hate my schedule.”

You'd almost scoffed at the way your brain had refused to picture anyone else other than Chris while you thought about it, figuring it was probably because he was the only guy you were in constant contact with.

Eujin looked at you resolutely, “we’ll do our best,” she held up a fist in an action to cheer you on.

You shrugged, You figured maybe going into this with an open mind would do you some good.

You changed the topic, directing the focus back to Eujin, “whatever, let’s just have fun, it’s your big day soon, let’s just celebrate!”

===

At the rehearsal dinner, you had yet to arrive, since you’d spent a little longer getting ready, choosing to use your opportunity to dress up a little more, not having the luxury to do so during your usual work days.

You had texted Eujin that you were on the way with some of the other bridesmaids, her attention directed elsewhere when her fiancé had called her over.

“Hey, wanted you to meet some of my friends from law school.”

While being introduced, Eujin couldn’t help but wonder if they were single, remembering your mentioned criteria from the night before.

“Oh, so are you guys all working in the law sector now?”

Her husband shook his head, “All of them, except Chan here. He’s the ceo of Bang Mobile Media company.”

Eujin’s eyes widened, glancing at the brown-haired boy cautiously, as if sizing him up. Y/N worked in a mobile company too, right? If she was remembering this correctly. Was it mobile or broadcasting?

“Oh, wow. That’s impressive.”

Eujin had let them introduce themselves more, not being able to help but think that Chan was nice, friendly, and rich on top of that?

“I don’t get it, how are you single? You’re basically the whole package!” She wondered out loud, making Chan flush, giggling as he shook his head.

Her husband seemed to have begged to differ, “Chan is incorrigible when it comes to his love life.”

Eujin raised her eyebrows in surprise, not having expected someone so good-looking to have such a fate, “really? Is there a reason behind that?”

“He’d never dated much, even back when he was in Australia. He was always super dedicated to his work,” this had served to make Eujin even more positive about this guy’s prospects as a suitor for you.

“Oh my god, you’re exactly like one of my friends, I should totally introduce her to you when she comes later.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” one of his friends had spoken up, “Chan can’t cheat on his job.”

Eujin felt her phone vibrate signalling a notification, pulling it out to see that you’d arrived already, excusing herself and practically running over to the entrance of the venue. “Chan, you stay put, I have just the perfect girl to introduce you to!”

“Y/N! You have to come quick, I think I found the perfect guy for you.”

Your eyes widened, clutching onto the chain of your bag as you followed her into the room.

“He’s really nice, and friendly, and he’s good-looking! Really cute dimples! And on top of that he’s loaded. I’m so excited for you to meet him.”

Letting her drag you along, you’d distracted yourself with the atmosphere of the area, wondering just how much it would cost to book a venue like this, tugging down your dress that was hiking up from practically running after Eujin.

“Hey, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Chan, this is Y/N,” Eujin chirped, the names causing the both of your heads to shoot up, locking eyes with each other as a feeling of doom built in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes widened in panic, glancing down at your attire, back to him, who was dressed in a flowy black shirt that you were sure cost more than your one week’s pay, the top few buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a simple silver necklace, and fitted black pants, your gaze landing on the small silver rings on his ears, almost feeling as though you were looking at a different person.

Chris thought so too, seeming to have the same panic as you as he tried not to let his gaze linger too long on your dress, nodding his head at you in greeting, “nice to uh…meet you.”

His ears had felt hot as you nodded back at him, almost startling when Eujin had cheered, leaning over to whisper to you, “I’ll make sure you guys get to sit next to each other.”

You were about to protest when she’d left, leaving you standing at the bar with Chris.

“So, Y/N, how do you know the bride to be?”

You gulped, wanting to slap yourself for how your gaze had kept returning to Chris, unable to shake the feeling of needing to be in work-mode now with his presence before you.

“Oh, uh, we were friends since college,” you answered simply.

“Cool, did you guys have the same major?” Chris had to stop himself from glaring at his friend, a strange feeling inside of him as he recognised the look on his friend’s face and his posture to be that which he used whenever he was interested in a girl.

You shook your head, “uh, not quite. I majored in law but she majored in journalism.” You tried to respond as calmly as you could, not being able to shake Chris’ gaze off of you, feeling as though at any moment he was going to call you out for something you weren’t even aware of.

You saw the guy practically light up at the mention of law.

“Woah, that’s really coincidental. All of us met in law school,” he gestured to the group of them, making you laugh nervously.

“Where are you guys um… dates?” You asked, immediately regretting the question when you saw the way Chris was practically glaring at you.

You didn’t understand why he was glaring at you, wasn’t it a valid question?

“We didn’t bring dates, unfortunately. Did you?”

You shook your head, making Chris snort. “Does it look like she brought a date? She literally came in alone.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure where his spitefulness was coming from, especially when his friend was just trying to make conversation with you.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah, pity. Maybe I’d have time to date if I wasn’t always so busy running around doing shit for my boss,” you cast a pointed glance at him, bringing a hand up to nonchalantly run it through your hair.

Chris smirked, two could play at this game.

“Same here, I’d probably have the time to date too if my secretary wasn’t always causing trouble.”

“Your secretary?” His friend spoke up, “I heard from someone she was pretty cute, and nice too.”

You’d almost wanted to agree, realising that if you did it would put you in a pretty compromising position, simply acting surprised.

“If I had a secretary like that, I’d just date her,” one of his friends had spoken up, making your eyes widen, wracking your brain for possible responses.

“Who knows, are you a workaholic?” You asked pointedly, earning amused grunts and laughs from his friends, “ah… it’d be too bad if I was your secretary, then. I absolutely can’t stand dating workaholics.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, the both of you knowing you were just as bad at him, replying calmly, “oh, you can’t stand dating workaholics? Me neither.”

You were thankful that Eujin had given you a small break when she'd invited everyone to take their seats so dinner could be served, wincing when you'd ended up sitting next to Chris out of habit, momentarily forgetting that you weren't attending a networking session.

You'd hoped and prayed that you wouldn't slip up more than you already did. As much as you'd wanted to spite him, he was still your boss, and you knew he'd give you an earful for even the slightest hint of disrespect ( which you were sure you'd surpassed already ).

Focusing on the gorgeous food they'd served you, you saw the waiter pick up the bottle of wine, pouring it for you.

Having been oblivious, the waiter was about to pour a glass for Chris as well, making your secretary-instincts kick in, your arm darting across Chris to stop the waiter in time.

"No, Mr Bang, you shouldn't drink that."

Chris would have looked fairly amused if he wasn't stressed out by your proximity, with you practically leaning over him to speak to the waiter.

You'd cursed internally, wincing at the way Chan's friend had looked at you, tilting his head in confusion.

"Mr Bang? And how do you know his alcohol preference?"

Chris let out a nervous giggle as you straightened up, "uh...well um like...you know it's a really funny story actually... we're um..."

Not being able to bear his awkward fumbling any longer, you'd butt in, "We work in the same company. Yeah."

You were lucky his friend had bought it, simply nodding in understanding, "no wonder, you guys were being so weird just now."

Chris scoffed, "what weird?"

You turned around in your chair, pretending to pick up your bag, "stop, you're making it worse," you murmured so he could hear you, making him bring his glass of water to his lips.

One of your girl friends had spoken up, halfway through the meal, "wait, i just realised. If you guys work in the same office, then you must know her boss right? That dude is crazy. We all thought it was a miracle that she could take time off for the wedding,"

You glared at your friend, trying to subtly shake your head in your attempt to stop her, but she was oblivious, "she doesn't like it when we badmouth him but it's true! Ever since she started working for him it's like her social life just disappeared. Her boss is always her first priority."

You'd never related more to how people said they wished the ground would swallow you whole. Looking down at your food, you'd tried to remain nonchalant about it, but Chris who was next to you was looking at your friend with wide eyes.

"Oh, really? What else does she say about him?"

You laughed nervously, waving your hands in dismissal, "nothing that concerns you."

Chris turned to you, dropping his volume to a murmur, "is that so? because i'm hearing all this and i'm getting the feeling it definitely concerns me."

You let out a huff of anxious laughter, bringing your glass to your lips, consuming your drink in sips because your boss was sitting next to you, but secretly wishing you could down it all in one go.

Soon enough, all your anxious sipping had made you reach an empty glass, the waiter coming over to refill it for you, earning an eyebrow raise from Chris.

"Leave me alone," you huffed.

Chris simply laughed, "what? I didn't say anything."

You'd tried to pay attention to the proceedings of the wedding rehearsal, and after dessert was served people had started to mingle around more, the drinks having started to kick in as you'd felt a lot more relaxed.

It was safe to say Eujin was as well, going around to talk to the guests and thank them for coming out of town for the celebrations.

Soon enough, you were almost done with your fourth glass, oblivious to the way Chris was looking at you, impressed yet concerned. Feeling skinny arms drape over your shoulders, you turned your head to see none other than Eujin, cooing at you affectionately.

"Tell your boss a huge thank you for letting you have this weekend. I couldn't even get to see you on my birthday or for the engagement party, but i'm so so glad you're here now."

You couldn't help but glance at Chris, knowing that you'd missed both of those events because you were helping him with something. The first being when he'd almost overworked himself enough to warrant a visit to the hospital since he hadn't been sleeping or eating well (after that, you swore you'd make sure this man was getting his three meals if you could help it), and the second time being when you had to accompany him to a keynote session out of town.

You were starting to think maybe there was a little more to unpack behind your reasons why you stayed working for Chris Bang. Your only consolation at this point of time being that the rehearsal dinner was ending soon, meaning that you could finally escape the suffocating tension you were feeling.

"Wanna hitch a ride back together? I drove here."

You'd almost declined, feeling as if you didn't have a right to be in his car if it wasn't work-related. Chris had seemed to sense your hesitation, simply not waiting for a reply and walking off, hoping his smile wasn't too obvious when he'd heard you jogging to meet his pace.

He'd surprised you even more when he'd opened the passenger door for you, shutting it gently after you'd gotten in.

You'd given in to the comfort of his car almost immediately, more-so when Chris had gone to take something from the boot of his car, getting into the driver's seat and draping the soft blanket over your lap.

"The drive back's pretty long, might wanna make yourself comfortable."

And you were comfortable, very comfortable. Chris had started to play some music from his playlist, something about his behaviour almost making you forget that he was the same boss that had worked you to the bone for over a year.

"I'm sorry," you suddenly spoke, once you were in the city, "about what my friends said," you weren't sure where all your courage was coming from, maybe it was the many glasses of wine, but whatever it was, it was putting Chris in an awfully reflective mood.

"And what I said," you added as an afterthought.

Chris took his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head, “nah, don’t worry about it.”

Obviously, that seemed too good to be true, and you’d looked over at his expression in your attempt to figure out if he was being sincere. He was definitely gonna fire you.

“I’m not gonna fire you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just kind of…like, you know, wondering,” he began, “the uh… engagement party and the birthday party that you um… you know, that you missed. Were they both because of me?”

You pursed your lips, nodding, “but it wasn’t your fault, you know. The first one was when you’d passed out… you know, at the office, remember?”

He nodded, prompting you to continue, “the next one was a keynote session that I had to follow you to.”

Chris gulped, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. This whole time he wouldn’t have guessed you’d been giving up these things for him from how willing you’d seemed to work. Was this considered neglecting the needs of my employee? Probably. But whatever it was, Chris knew that he was being harsh on you more for his own sake than yours, but he was only starting to realise now that that might not have been such a good tactic.

Chris was already pulling into the hotel, stopping at the valet services as you’d slung your bag over your shoulder, Chris coming out to open your door for you, making you grimace, feeling as though you should've been the one to open it for him.

Walking into the hotel lobby, you'd glanced at your phone, seeing as Eujin had texted you tomorrow's plans, "did you get the schedule for tomorrow? I can forward it to you-"

Chris let a giggle escape him, nodding, "you know they would've sent it to me too, right?"

Your lips parted in realisation, nodding as you went over to press the lift button before he could even reach over to do so, "right, forgot."

You were sure it was something about your intoxicated state that was making you instinctively go into work mode, whatever relaxation you thought you would be getting on this weekend now seeming all too far from reach.

"Uh... I can check what time the hotel serves breakfast and arrange for something to be sent to your room if you want-"

"Y/N," his tone was enough to make you straighten up, goosebumps rising on your skin for some reason.

Chris was looking at you in amusement, one hand shoved into his pocket, "you're not working, remember? This is your rest weekend."

Your eyebrows knit in a frown, chewing on your lip as you averted your gaze, "I know but it's just... like I didn't expect to see you here and now that you are I can't help but feel like I'm at work or something," you'd turned to wonder what was taking the elevator so long, watching as the numbers had gone lower and lower, completely skipping your floor and heading to the carpark.

"You know what? How about this," he began, pausing momentarily when you heard the elevator ding, stepping inside the empty elevator and pushing your floor button, your heart almost stopping when he hadn't made to press any button.

"You're on the 14th floor too?" He nodded.

"Anyway, as I was saying. To make things easier for you, let's just pretend we don't know each other, that i'm not your boss, you're not my secretary. We're just... two people that met at a wedding? You don't have to do anything for me as long as we're here, hmm?" he offered, seeming to sense your hesitance

"Look, I'll go first," he stretched his hand out as if to ask for a handshake, "hello, nice to meet you, i'm Chan."

"Chan?"

He nodded, "my friends call me Chan. People only call me Chris at work."

You'd brought your hand up slowly, grasping his in yours, the cold metal of his rings against your skin more obvious when he'd given your hand a small squeeze.

"Nice to meet you, Chan. I'm Y/N?" you tried, looking at him for approval and earning a nod from him, trying your best to ignore the way he was smiling.

"Yes, that's your name," he laughed.

Letting go of his hand, you were thankful the elevator had reached your floor without any interruptions, realising just how lucky you were to have not bumped into him earlier on as he'd continued walking with you to your room, gesturing to the door opposite your room with wide eyes.

"My room's here."

You made to take out your hotel room key, hearing him clear his throat, and you'd turned around rapidly to face him, strangely eager to know what he was about to say.

"Say, Y/N, I'd love to, you know, get to know you more. What do you think about getting brunch with me tomorrow?”

You opened and closed your mouth for lack of a response. This was inappropriate, right? But then again, you weren’t working this weekend. And technically, in this situation, Chan wasn’t your boss. So, there was nothing to lose.

You nodded, “Yeah. That sounds…nice.”

===

“Sounds kind of suspicious if you asked me,” you heard Seungmin’s voice over the speaker, making you sigh. You were already ready, lounging on your bed as if to mentally prepare yourself for a stupid lunch.

“Right? I don’t know what he’s trying to get out of this.”

Seungmin knew. But it’s not as if he was going to tell you, no, that was Chan’s job not his. Frankly, he’d had enough of listening to the both of you whine about your apparent personal vendetta against each other. He watched his fair share of movies, Seungmin knew how these things worked.

“Maybe it’ll give you a chance to actually talk to each other like normal human beings instead of just bickering all the time for no reason.”

“I have a reason, I’ll have you know.”

Seungmin scoffed, “really? Enlighten me, then.”

You’d fumbled for a reason, stuttering in your failure to find something that validated your annoyance towards Chan.

“I don’t know, his dimples are stupid.”

Seungmin wanted to laugh, “so you’re telling me, you just can’t stand him because of his stupid dimples?”

Your attention was diverted when you’d felt your phone vibrate, signalling an incoming text from Chan.

boss 11:20am -meet u outside your hotel room in 10?-

“Shit, he wants to meet me in 10 minutes.”

Seungmin shrugged, “10 minutes is more than enough time for you to come up with a less shitty reason why you don’t like him. Or for you to realise that you don’t actually hate him.”

You scoffed, burying your face into your sheets as you thought of a reason.

“Okay, I’ve got it. I just don’t like how he treats everyone so nicely and then treats me like I’m some incompetent kid.”

“You know for a fact he doesn’t think you’re incompetent. He literally trusts you more than he does the other staff.”

You scoffed, “yeah, whatever. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s so condescending about it, he thinks of me i’m some kid that doesn’t know anything.”

Seungmin snorted, remembering the incident where Chan had asked him to tell you to button up your blouse after the directors behaviour during a meeting.

“Oh, he definitely doesn’t see you as a kid,” Seungmin cackled, earning an eye roll from you.

Glancing at the time, you saw how it was almost 11:30, “okay, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

Ending the call, you’d slung your small bag around your shoulder, giving one last glance at your appearance in the mirror in the bathroom before leaving your hotel room, startling when you’d spotted Chan there.

Dressed in a black pullover and jeans, Chan smiled at you, bringing a hand up to touch his ear, “morning,” he greeted.

“Good morning,” you huffed nervously.

He’d already begun walking, making you follow beside him, “did you get a good sleep?”

His eyebrows raised at your question, nodding at you. His hair was curlier than usual, not styled up like you usually saw. “you?”

You nodded, following him in silence as you’d gone down the list, realising he’d pressed the ground floor instead of where they were serving food on the 3rd floor.

“You pressed the wrong floor,” you began, not expecting to see the pleading smile on his face.

“Actually, I was thinking of bringing you to this place nearby, I’ve been there before and it’s pretty good.”

Your first thought was to wonder if it was expensive, knowing that this time you didn’t have the company card to fall back on.

“Is it expensive?” You asked, seeing him shrug.

“Not really.”

Only when you’d reached the area did you realise how much of an understatement Chan made. The restaurant was a small cozy-looking place that served food that you’d only heard of up till now, located along a line of boutiques selling unusual trinkets and handmade items.

Upon reaching, you and Chan had been led up upstairs to an outdoor seating area of the restaurant, the view of the scenery accompanied with the breeze instantly putting you in a relaxed mood.

“Do you like it?” He asked, almost sounding nervous.

Nodding reassuringly, you’d wanted to run away when you saw the way he’d walked over to where you were, pulling your chair out for you to sit on, making you flush. Never in your life would you have thought your boss would be pulling out your chair for you.

“You know, you don’t have to do that,” you told him, using the menu to hide your face from view, pulling it down slightly to watch how he’d rest his forearm on the table, scanning through the menu with a smirk on his face, his (stupid) dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“I wanted to. You’d never let me do it for you on any other occasion.”

You had to admit that there was some truth to what you were saying, choosing to change the subject by telling him you’d decided on what you wanted to eat, choosing something that was still within your budget for the weekend.

Beckoning the waiter over, Chan pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he ordered for the both of you, the waiter asking what drinks you would want, a teasing smile on Chan’s face when you’d insisted on water.

“What?” You scoffed, earning a shake of the head from him.

“Nothing.”

You’d leant back in your seat, about to tie your hair up into a ponytail, hearing the buzzing of your phone, reading the caller id to see that it was your mom trying to video call you.

Sitting up quickly, you were about to excuse yourself when Chan had reached over, swiping to answer the call as he lifted the phone, pointing it towards you, his other hand beckoning for you to continue.

“Hey, mom,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your rubber band between your teeth as you worked quickly to bunch your hair into a ponytail, Chan wanting to slap himself with how his ears had started to feel hot.

“Hey, honey. Where are you? I called the office but they said you were on leave?”

You secured your hair, taking the phone from Chan with a grateful murmur of ‘thanks’, making your mother’s eyes narrow, “who are you with?”

“I’m attending Eujin’s wedding this weekend. I’m just uh…with a friend.”

Chan looked away to clear his throat, catching your mom’s attention, “guy? I thought you told me you weren’t dating anyone.”

This had caught Chan’s attention, having remembered Seungmin telling him that you’d broken up with your boyfriend.

“No, yeah, mom it’s just a friend. Can I call you later?”

Your mom’s eyebrows lifted, looking at you with a cheeky smile on her face, “oh, oh. Yes, of course you can. Have fun, baby.”

You hung up quickly, shoving your phone back into your bag, looking up at Chan in question as to why he looked so surprised.

“Your mom doesn’t know you have a boyfriend?” He asked, as if wanting that confirmation for himself, not feeling comfortable with pursuing his feelings if you were still in a relationship.

You shook your head, “no uh…I broke up with my boyfriend a long time ago.”

Chan’s lips pursed, nodding, “oh… sorry.”

You shook your head, not being able to help a breathy laugh from leaving you, “don’t be. He was…it was for the best.”

“D’you mind if I ask why? You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, I’m just kind of…curious.”

You shrugged, not feeling as inclined to hide the information, since it was in the past now.

“Nah he just… our schedules always clashed and I was always too tired by the end of the day to go out to find him and I guess it like, you know, sort of reached a point where I started prioritising my work and it didn’t work out.”

Chan nodded slowly, the waiter coming over to serve you your food, “go ahead, you can start eating first.”

You shook your head, insisting on waiting for his food to arrive before starting. “But I’m honestly fine now, it’s been more than a year since we broke up.”

Chan huffed in amusement, “is that why you said you can’t stand dating workaholics?”

Your giggles bubbled out of you, “honestly, I only said that to spite you. I’d much rather date someone that understands my schedule and reaches a compromise with me instead of just always expecting me to drop everything at their beck and call.”

Chan nodded, “I get that. Yeah, work is important and all but… I feel like if you really loved someone you’d find any moment you could to be with them. Well, for me at least.”

You laughed, “kind of hard, when we spend almost every waking moment with each other.”

You’d looked up from your food when Chan hadn’t responded, the waiter finally coming over to serve his food, though his expression remained, looking at you as though he’d wanted to say something.

“yeah,” he huffed eventually, starting to eat his food.

You’d shocked yourself with how comfortable you were in his presence with the knowledge that you weren’t working. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To have Chris treat you nicely like how he did the other employees. Only now you were realising how easy it was to catch feelings for him just from this one change.

Maybe you were kind of thankful he made it easier for you to hate him previously.

It was true that you understood him better than most, and that he understood you as well, knowing what got on your nerves and what didn’t, how you worked and how you responded to things. Albeit there were a few things he still didn’t understand, you couldn’t deny that Chan was well-liked in the office for a reason, and you were beginning to experience that reason for yourself.

Chris had been mulling over what his mother had told him about you, wondering if you were feeling the same tension that he was even as you talked about pointless things that made you wonder why you hadn’t talked about them sooner.

Not that it was a bad kind of tension (or maybe it was), but it was akin to the feeling of knowing that you would both have to confront a realisation soon.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked as you were heading back to the car, earning a shrug from you.

“My friends wanted to have some kind of girls night thing, you?”

He sighed, nodding, “same, the guys and I are going out for drinks.”

You shot him a look, “drinks?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “I can hold my alcohol, I just choose not to drink.”

Your eyes widened, “and I’m only finding this out now because? Do you remember when I had to drink your drinks for you during the first networking session because you lied to me and told me you couldn’t drink that!”

Chan flushed, “I wasn’t lying, technically. I really couldn’t drink that, I don’t like white wine.”

You shot him a harmless glare, this time, letting him open the door for you as you got into the passenger’s seat.

“Don’t drink too much tonight, yeah?” He gave you an amused huff as he started the engine of the car.

“You too,” you held your pinky out for him to make a promise.

Chan nodded, linking his pinky with yours as he leaned closer to you, “deal.”

===

You’d heard the sound of beeping at your door that night, wondering what all the ruckus was all about, getting out of bed, taking your hotel room key and pausing the show you were watching on your phone, making your way over to your door carefully.

“Why isn’t the card working?” You heard a tell-tale Australian accent muffled through the door, looking through the peephole to see a head of messy brown hair, looking as though Chan was leaning against the door.

Opening the door slowly, you’d acted quickly to grab Chan by the shoulders to steady him before he could stumble forward, the confused boy holding up his hotel key and looking at you in confusion.

“This isn’t my room?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, turning him around as you’d ushered him a few steps forward to his hotel room door, “this,” you pointed at the door, “is your room, Chan.”

He giggled, “you called me ‘Chan’.”

Taking his hand, you scanned his hotel key, bringing him into his room, finding it awfully neat (unlike yours), smoothly guiding him to his bed and letting him flop onto it.

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but to feel rather endeared, seeing him open his eyes slowly to look at you, tilting his head.

“Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t drink so much.”

You shook your head, reaching over him to grab at his blanket, your movements ceasing abruptly when you’d felt his hand on your back as you hovered over him, his hand moving from your back to your head, patting it gently.

Pulling the blanket up harshly in your panic to cover him, straightening up as quickly as you could.

“Shut up, go to sleep. Goodnight,” you said, hurriedly exiting the hotel room and going back to your room, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your rapid heartbeat.

The next time you’d seen him was at the hotel lobby, where you’d agreed to meet him so you could head to the wedding venue together. Chan had come down wearing a nice suit, something you were more used to seeing him in, his hair styled up in a familiar manner.

Greeting each other, you’d both decided to pretend the night before hadn’t occurred. With you being one of the bridesmaids and Chan being one of the groomsmen, you were separated almost immediately upon reaching the venue, with him having to help his friend while you helped Eujin.

“A little birdie told me you came together with Chan,” she sing-songed.

You scoffed, “aren’t brides usually supposed to be freaking out by now?”

“Don’t change the topic! So, did you guys hang out yesterday?”

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess we did.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, “so? Is there a verdict?”

You went behind her to take her bouquet, handing it to her as you waved her off in dismissal.

“Too early to tell,” you lied.

“Stop avoiding the question! Or else I’ll just have to ask Chan myself,” she huffed sulkily, making your eyes widen.

“No, don’t do that! Okay, fine. It’s good. He’s nice.”

Even Eujin’s makeup artist was giving you a knowing look now, making you cower under their gaze.

“Shut up, focus on your wedding, please.”

You wished you could’ve done some focusing for yourself, with Chan’s friends nudging him when you’d gone to the back of the church to line up with the groomsmen, all of them seeming to have conspired to let you walk with Chan.

“Why do you look more nervous than the bride?” He teased, holding his arm out for you to take, making you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to grasp his arm.

“You’re delusional.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t. You wished you could’ve taken your advice, having been distracted throughout almost the entire ceremony, your gaze constantly flickering over to Chan, and you were sure he’d noticed too, with the way he would smirk and avert his gaze to the floor in his attempt to stop himself from laughing.

Shouldn’t he be the one that was nervous? He was the one that had shown up drunk at your hotel room.

After the ceremony had ended and you were all done taking photos with the bride and groom, Chan had offered you a ride to the reception venue, and you’d accepted, not knowing that you would’ve had to squeeze in a car full of his friends too.

Sitting at the passenger’s seat (thankfully), you’d prayed for the ride to be shorter as his friends had started to question you and Chan.

“Is there something going on with you two?”

“None of your business,” Chan sing-songed, only serving to spur his friends on even more, your eyes widening when you’d heard one of his friends murmur.

“Wait, but didn’t he say he had a thing for his secretary?”

Your hand went up to cover your mouth as discreetly as you could, clutching the bag of your wedding gift for Eujin and her husband and looking out of the window in your attempt to keep your composure.

Chan had seemed to share your sentiments, his eyes widening as he panicked behind the steering wheel, his mind racing with things he could possibly do to prevent you from hearing what his friends were so freely spouting.

“Oh, did he? Then there can’t be anything going on with her, right?”

Chan had reached over to turn the volume of the music up, much to your fortune, not knowing if you would’ve been able to handle hearing them talk more about Chan’s love life.

Eujin wasn’t kidding when she said that she’d make you and Chan sit next to each other, and you’d ended up at a table with Chan nearer to the front, with a few of your friends and their partners. Watching Eujin and her husband enter the hall, you’d been filled with excitement at how happy she had looked, clapping and cheering for them along with the rest of the guests.

Once they were seated, Eujin and her husband had begun to make their own speeches, thanking the respective groups of people for coming, and you didn’t miss her pointed mention of how she hoped the guests would use this time to get to know each other as well.

The way Eujin had done things was that dinner was served so that the guests could listen to the speeches and enjoy their meals at the same time, which you didn’t mind since you were absolutely starving.

You didn’t miss the way Chan had been subtly looking out for you during the dinner, like how he would casually ask if you needed anything whenever he would get up to go to the bar, or how he’d brushed your hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t get into your food (not without a tut of his tongue), earning many surprised looks from your friends which he was oblivious to.

You figured he was really making use of the ‘let’s pretend we don’t know each other’ thing as an excuse to be nice to you, not that you were complaining.

You glanced at your phone, skimming over the texts that one of the intern secretaries had sent you to ask you for help, making your friend curious.

“Is that your boss?”

You shook your head, “nah it’s just one of the interns asking me for help with something,” you shrugged, setting your utensils down as you swiped into your email app, ready to clarify the problem for her, making Chan furrow his eyebrows in annoyance.

Reaching over, he’d taken your phone from you, locking it and dropping it back into your bag, ignoring your look of confusion.

“Hey, I was just gonna email her!”

“They’re not supposed to be asking you to do things for them while you’re on leave. No working, this is your rest weekend.”

You’d shut your mouth at that, deciding that it wouldn’t do you any well to go against him, wanting to pull your phone out to just read the emails but dropping your phone back when you saw the look he gave you daring you to continue.

Your friend had seemed to be fairly amused by your exchange, shooting a look at Chan, “wow, now I’m really glad you’re here. You’re the only one so far that’s managed to stop her from checking on her work when she’s supposed to be resting.”

You scoffed. Yeah, because the source of your work was sitting right next to you in a stupid suit.

“Good to know,” he gave you a knowing smile, making you direct your attention back the waiters, seeing that they were serving desserts now.

“Your friends make me sound like i’m a hard-ass,” he leaned closer to you to murmur, making you smile, nodding.

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” you drawled, making Chan scoff, though not being able to help the laugh from leaving him.

He nodded slowly, his expression looking fairly amused, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You wondered just for a moment if he was only being nice to you for the sake of his own conscience (though Seungmin would beg to differ). And by the late afternoon, you were already starting to feel drowsy from the afternoon weather, the skies darkening as though it were about to rain. Chan had figured it would be good to start heading back.

After you’d bid goodbye to Eujin, who seemed more than eager for you to leave together with Chan, Chan had offered to drive a few of his friends back to the hotel together with you, and thankfully this time they hadn’t mentioned anything about his love life.

“Tired?” Chan huffed with a smile, glancing at you momentarily before fixing his gaze back on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, yawning.

“You should get some sleep when you get back to the hotel.”

You nodded, “you too.”

Chan nodded patronisingly, earning a huff from you, too tired to bicker with him. something in him stirring at how he could’ve been acting like this with you a lot earlier if he wasn’t always masking his concern with rude phrasing.

His mom sure was gonna be excited the next time he updates her.

===

You hadn’t gotten as much of a rejuvenating sleep as you would’ve liked, reality having kicked in that you were back to work tomorrow, the feeling lingering unsettlingly in your chest as you tried to make the most of the rest of your night. Somehow, you’d found your way to the lounge in the hotel, though that didn’t help much in lessening your dread for tomorrow seeing as the only other people here were people working on their laptops.

You figured it was not so much of dreading work than dreading Chan’s change in personality once he went back to being your boss.

Letting your head rest on the stiff cushion of the chair you were sitting on, you’d fiddled with your phone, texting Seungmin about what had happened today.

You’d almost startled in your seat when you saw someone take a seat next to you, turning to see Chan, his tie long gone as his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair already falling out of place as he simply looked at you.

Raising your eyebrows in a silent question as to ask why he was here, he scoffed, looking away from you but failing to hide the reddening of his ears, “shut up, I just didn’t feel like sitting with a stranger.”

You huffed in amusement, “did you take a nap?”

Chan shook his head, “nah, just finished a conference call.”

Your eyes widened, “wait, why didn’t you tell me? I was doing nothing this whole time—“

Chan shook his head in dismissal, “you were tired. I told you, this is your rest time, I’m not allowed to touch it.”

You frowned, your mind racing with thoughts on how tomorrow could possibly go, looking at the carpet with a hint of a pout on your face, “yeah, and then tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.”

Chan inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his hands clasped and resting on his lap.

“It doesn’t have to, you know… like…” he shrugged, “if you don’t want it to.”

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to the implications of his words, unsure how to even process his words.

“It’d be… unprofessional for me to continue to act like… this towards my boss.”

Chan raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“I think I’m way past being professional already when it comes to you.”

You’d sworn the air had felt thicker, something about the way the night mood had felt, or how the music in the lounge had succeeded in relaxing you, but something inside of you was telling you to just do it, to lean forward and kiss him. And probably promptly resign the next day out of embarrassment.

You stood up quickly, “oh, I think my cab’s here, I have to go,” you lied blatantly, Chan not making any move to stop you, simply lifting a hand to wave you off with a tired smile on his face.

“Go, go. See you at work tomorrow.”

===

“Can’t we ask Y/N to ask him?” The secretaries and interns were currently huddled in the pantry, having gathered to discuss how great it would be to have a field day soon.

“But Y/N’s equally as scary as him!” One of the interns spoke up, making the secretaries hum thoughtfully.

You’d stepped into the pantry, walking through the secretaries to retrieve a juice packet for Chan.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, one of the secretaries turning to you with a resolute look on her face.

“Y/N, do you think you could um… like, you know, ask President Bang if we could arrange for a team outing soon? Like a field day or something, just as a break for the staff. We haven’t had one in so long!”

You tilted your head at them in amusement, “why don’t you guys just ask him? He’s in his office now, I can go tell him you guys wan—“

“No, no! It’s different, you’re the only one that can convince him. We tried last month but he’d just told us he’d think about it.”

You shrugged, nodding, “alright, sure. I’ll go and ask him.”

Making your way back to his office, you’d tried to ignore your nerves as you knocked on the door, opening it to reveal Chan who was on the phone, holding up a finger to you to signal you to wait.

Walking over to him, you’d placed the juice packet on his desk in front of him, earning a smile and a grateful nod from him, before he’d switched back to a serious expression.

“No, yes, of course. We would want nothing more than to ensure a… mutually beneficial agreement between our companies.”

You didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking to. Chan had been trying to negotiate a deal with one of the shareholders, since they had been trying to propose to get Chan to merge with another prominent electronics company in the industry.

You knew Chan was more than annoyed, but he had no choice but to be civil with the president of the company since they did have many shares in the company from the time his uncle was in charge.

“Yes, we can discuss this more in person over lunch, how does that sound? Yep. Alright, bye.” Chan sighed, setting the phone down and leaning his palms on the table, supporting himself with a pained look on his face, looking up at you with a pout.

“I really don’t like him.”

Chan sighed, “same here.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you came here, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What?” You asked, watching as he’d fiddled with the papers on his desk.

“Uh… I won’t ask you to handle things outside of work for me anymore.”

Your eyes widened, “is this because of what my friends said? Because I’m honestly fine it doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, seeing him scrunch his nose.

“It may not matter to you but I’m personally not fine with it,” he pressed his lips together. “Really, I mean it. Whatever I ask you to help me with from here on is only gonna be work-related.”

You nodded. Was he trying to distance himself from me? Was it because of the trip?

Your lips pulled into a frown, nodding more to yourself than to him, “okay…uh anyway I wanted to ask you um… the secretaries were wondering if we could have like a field day or something soon? Like just as a small break for the staff?”

Chan shot you a look, knowing they’d asked you to ask him.

“Do you want that?” He asked, earning a nod from you.

“Yeah, I guess. It’d be fun to just have a day for staff bonding and all…”

Chan shrugged, “alright, tell them to go ahead and arrange it.”

Your eyes widened, finding the exchange to have went a lot more smoother than expected.

“Will you be needing me for anything else?”

He looked at you as if in thought, taking his lower lip between his teeth and letting it go, shaking his head, “other than to help me book an appointment with President Kim, nothing else.”

You nodded slowly, exiting the room.

By only asking you for work-related things, you’d expected your work-load to decrease, but it seemed as though you were currently having the most uneventful day you’d ever had. Other than drafting proposals for the President of the electronics company, there wasn’t much on your plate.

You’d figured you would’ve been a lot busier tending to Chan’s requests but the boy had barely come out of his office, the only times he did being to head to the washroom, barely casting a glance in your direction when he walked past you.

As if that wasn’t strange enough, he’d even let you have a longer lunch break, much to Seungmin’s amusement.

“Doesn’t being in the legal team sound a lot more enticing now? At least you’d be doing something there.”

You rolled your eyes, “I still have quite a bit of research to do, so no thank you.”

“Admit it, you’re only staying because you can’t bear to leave Chan.”

You’d almost choked on your drink, patting your chest to regain your composure, “where the hell did you get that idea from?”

Seungmin scoffed, “you act like you didn’t call me a thousand times during the trip to tell me about things he did.”

You’d fallen silent at that, averting your gaze.

“Whatever,” you scoffed.

“Isn’t it misconduct, though? If I were to date him.”

Seungmin shook his head with an amused snort leaving him, “what are we in, the stone ages? Go wild, literally nobody cares. They’ll probably be happy if you manage to get him to be less of a hard-ass,” Seungmin told you, glancing into his cup to see how much drink he had left, “god knows when was the last time he got laid.”

You flushed, shoving Seungmin, “how can you say that?”

“What? It’s true!”

You gave him a dismayed glare, standing up with a sigh as you straightened out your skirt, glancing at the time on your phone.

“I should probably be heading back now, I’ve got work to do,” you gave Seungmin a pointed look, pulling him up from the bench.

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” Seungmin let out a loud strangled sound of protest, his shoes stomping on the wooden panelled floor of the rooftop.

You giggled, a teasing smile on your face, “weren’t you the one saying the legal team was what again? Enticing?”

Seungmin pouted, pressing the elevator button, abruptly flailing his limbs in a mini outburst before straightening up and composing himself.

“Fine, I’m fine. Enjoy your stupid office romance with Chan.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chan had a consultation with the legal team later that afternoon regarding the issue with the shareholder, and you’d been all-too-distracted during the meeting as you thought about what your possible ‘action-plan’ regarding your situation with Chan was.

Taking down notes during the meeting, you’d let your train of thought wander, almost doodling onto your notebook, with one hand supporting your head on the table before you heard the legal advisor from the shareholder’s side speak up, a guttural groan leaving him.

Looking up with an annoyed furrow of your eyebrows, you heard him lean back in his chair, “what does a man need to do to get a drink around here?”

“You,” the man pointed a finger at you, “go and make yourself useful, sweetheart. Get me a cup of coffee.”

Chan’s eyebrows knit into a frown, looking at the legal consultant with clear disdain on his face, looking at you to gauge your reaction. Already expecting you to do what you always did, get up with a smile and come back with the man’s coffee, Chan figured he was too annoyed by it to let you do just that.

About to speak up to the man, you'd shocked Chan when you narrowed your eyes at him, giving him a sweet smile, "sorry, that's not my job here. Since you're not contributing much to the discussion, why don't you make your legs useful and head right over there and get yourself some water."

You huffed, staring him down as he glared at you, directing his gaze to Chan. "Are you just gonna let her talk to me like that? I'd fire such a rude brat if I were you. Who's your supervisor, I'm gonna make sure he hears of this."

Chan did his best to conceal his smile, simply turning his chair ever so slightly to give you a small smile, "that would be me, and I heard it loud and clear. Now, shall we continue with the meeting?"

===

You’d been spending hours at your desk, distractedly doing research as you’d kept trying to peep into Chan’s office to figure out what he was doing, to no avail. (Chan had put the blinds down halfway through the day since he couldn’t stop staring outside at your desk either).

You were technically done with your work, and Chan did mention that you were free to go home once you were done. On any other occasion this would have been considered a miracle, and you wouldn’t have hesitated to go home. But now, there was a nagging feeling in your heart that you couldn’t just leave him here, especially with how stressed out he was because of the business with the shareholder. You didn’t trust him not to spend the whole night here.

Glancing at the time, you saw that it was already past 10, deciding that you would give him some time to make an appearance before you left, just to make sure he was alive and breathing inside his office.

Distracting yourself with replying emails, even playing more than a few rounds of a word-search game on your phone, you figured he would’ve come out by now, but there was still not a sound coming from inside the room.

Once the clock had almost struck 11, you figured you’d might as well go in and check on him for yourself. Going over to the pantry to make a hot drink, you’d walked back to his office, your grip tight on the saucer in your anxiousness.

Inhaling deeply and breathing out with a resolute nod, you knocked on the door of his office, waiting a while only to be met with silence.

Pushing open the door slightly, you’d tried again.

“Mr Bang, is it okay if I come in?”

Upon receiving no response yet again, you’d pushed open the door fully, your eyes widening in realisation when you saw him seated at his desk, fast asleep on the chair.

Walking over to the leather sofa as quietly as you could, you’d picked up the blanket from the sofa, making your way over to where he was, setting the hot drink onto his desk and making to drape the blanket over him.

Only when you were adjusting the blanket did he stir awake, making your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, strangely embarrassed if he were to catch you doing such a gesture for him.

Blinking slowly, his eyebrows furrowed before his gaze had landed on you.

“I thought you’d gone home already?” He pouted, making you fumble to find an excuse why you’d stayed behind.

“Sorry, Mr Bang, I was—”

He gave you a lazy smile, shaking his head, “none of that ‘Mr Bang’, nonsense. How come you haven’t left yet?”

You pressed your lips together firmly, pulling your hands away from the blanket as you tried to straighten up, sighing softly.

“I couldn’t leave… for some reason. I kind of wanted to make sure you were okay, since I barely saw you the whole day.”

Chan’s satisfied smile had grew, nodding at you as if prompting you to continue.

“but I’ll go soon. I guess,” you blurted, “unless like you know, you need me for something, then I’m fine with staying.” You stopped yourself, nodding before you could embarrass yourself any further.

You couldn’t help but let your breath hitch when he’d reached out to grab your hand.

“Thank you, for checking up on me,” he murmured, his close proximity making your gaze dart to his lips, averting your gaze quickly.

“Did you not come out of your office on purpose?” You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the way your heart was doing flips at the way he grinned, his dimples showing cutely.

You were about to pull back out of your own internal panic, but Chan’s grip on your hand was firm.

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t ask you for anything that wasn’t work related from now on. But It’s killing me, because you were sitting outside the whole day and I couldn’t do anything about it…” he paused, tilting his head as he searched your expression.

“You can refuse, but I just need you to do one little thing for me,” he murmured, pulling you forward so you’d ended up seated on his lap, your arms going out to grasp his shoulders to steady yourself.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked, your voice a mere murmur with how the tension was absolutely suffocating you, wanting nothing more than to just close the gap between the both of you.

Chan’s hand went up to your chin, running his thumb over your lower lip as they unconsciously parted, “close your eyes.”

Chan couldn’t help but smirk at the way you’d done so obediently, his hand going to where your neck met your jaw, leaning closer to press his lips against yours.

Almost as if it was second nature, he’d let his other hand grasp your hip, his thumb rubbing the area soothingly. Tilting his head to kiss you deeper, you’d practically sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck loosely as you felt him smile into the kiss.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping against your lower lip making you let out a surprised hum, not being able to help your smile as well.

“We should stop,” you pulled away, breathless.

“Why?”

You shook your head, “I could kiss you for hours. It’s already so close to midnight.”

Chan glanced at the clock apathetically, looking at you and shrugging, his hand running up and down your side.

“So be it, then,” he said, pulling you back to meet his lips.

===

“Is it just me, or has President Bang been a lot less moody these days,” Seungmin heard one of his colleagues in the legal team asking her desk-mate, making her colleague nod gravely.

The mention of President Bang had him glancing towards his office, spotting your desk empty and figuring you were inside his office.

“Definitely. At first I thought it was just me, but he’s been a lot less harsh to Y/N as well,” she agreed.

“Don’t you think so, Seungmin?”

And almost as if on cue, you’d exited his office, pulling your hair out of your ponytail to readjust it, looking around as if scanning the area to see if anyone had seen you.

Locking eyes with Seungmin, you shot him a wink, straightening out your blouse as you’d gone back to sit down at your desk.

Seungmin scoffed, not being able to help the smile on his face as he rolled his eyes, “yeah, I think I know why.”

3K notes · View notes

whump-town · 4 years ago

Text

Will You Take Me Home?

Here is some heart-warming fluff to make up for what I did with the cancer fic. I would do it again so I’m not sorry but I do feel remorse for hurting you

Word Count: 5055

Retired Hotch’s Birthday

The normal temperature of the room outside his nest of throw-blankets and heating pad causes goosebumps to break out over his exposed arm. He groans, not even bothering to check the caller ID as he puts his phone to his ear and answers “Aaron Hotchner”. His voice has taken on the gravel of disuse, fogged by the painkiller-induced nap he’d accidentally fallen into. If he was following his doctor’s orders, that wouldn’t happen. His body would have acclimated to the drugs and the pain wouldn’t leave him so exhausted that he can hardly keep his eyes open when it dulls to throbs. Which, he’s not aware of just yet, but is the very nature of this call: his detrimental habits.

“Sleeping beauty,” the other person greets and he leans back against the pillows behind him, rolling his eyes. The phone rustles and Hotch shakes his head as he hears the faint scratching and rustling of keys at his door. “I knocked four times,” he’s informed. “I was starting to think--” the door comes free and Hotch doesn’t even look up. “I thought I was going to find you dead in here.” The call ends and from the other side of the couch, he hears, “which, by the way, would be a hell of a thing, you know? Dead on your own birthday.” He closes his eyes but feels the cushions get pushed down, the telltale sign she’s leaning over the back of the cushion overtop him. “Speaking of which,” she beams. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

He looks up at her, taking in the full effect of mischief he could only hear before. The expressive lines of her smile spread across her face and it’s a distinct moment when all he can think about is how truly awful things had been between them at the beginning. How mean he was, really, because it wasn’t her. It was his own inability to trust. Yet, here she is before noon on his sixtieth birthday leaning over his couch and no doubt about to start a pot of coffee that she’ll consume over three-fourths of. Suppressing the smile tugging at his own lips, he raises a more important matter at hand. Far more pressing than why it is that she’s letting herself into his home. “How long until they come?”

Retired doesn’t mean born yesterday (whatever the opposite of that is, really). He’s not around the office anymore but given Garcia’s questioning last month of his favorite cake flavor, Dave’s inquiry into his schedule for this week, and Emily’s early arrival he knows exactly what they’re doing. To her credit, Emily pretends she doesn’t and she might be more convincing if he didn’t know every tell she’s had for the last two decades.

“Who?” she asks. “How long until who comes?” He just looks at her. A stand-off, really, to see who caves first. They’re assholes so this could go on forever and if she were looking for the thrill of watching him break and she would press on. She cracks but not because he’s better at this game, just because she’s excited. “You have an hour. I’ve been sent to get you ready so you’re not a crabby old bastard when they arrive.”

He groans, sinking back into the couch and pulling his blanket up over his head. Effectively locking her out. Well... not really. She just leans further over him, not caring when he grunts tries to burrow farther away. “Come on,” she shakes his shoulders. “Aren’t you the least bit excited? Penny made you those cookies you like and Derek is bringing Hank, who, I might add, is very excited to see Hops.” And she’s only buttering him up because-- “I’m not supposed to tell you this because it’s a huge surprise but Dave left this morning to go pick up Jack. He’ll--” she can’t even get it out. He peaks out, just the top of his head so he can narrow his eyes at her. To see if she’s just fucking with him, using his feelings against him but he sees only sincerity. She grins, she knows she’s won. “So up and at ‘em old-timer! You’ve got a gaggle of people to entertain!”

Old-timer? He’s four years older than she is. That’s not what he comments on. “Gaggle?” he repeats back to her, grunting as his knees protest his standing. “Really showing your age there,” he mumbles and steps out of the way of the pillow she throws at his head. “What?” he defends. “You said it, not me.” He shakes his head, heading back to his room and leaving her to entertain herself. Which she will and he can hear her rustling around the coffee machine. Nearly surprised that she doesn’t complain he still hasn’t set up the Keurig she got him for Christmas (which they are rapidly approaching him having owned now for a year).

Though he isn’t sure how to express it anymore, he’s excited to have them here. Even if he knows that it will get overwhelming, he can’t deny that the night will end far too soon and he’ll find himself missing them all over again. But that’s not what’s important. In an hour (less than that knowing Penelope and her strict party-throwing agendas) he’ll have them all right here. Reid with his never-ending knowledge, quizzing him on the book recommendations that Hotch has been slowly working his way through. With Derek and Savannah and Hank, the latter of which can’t pronounce Hotch and it makes his heart do a funny little thing when the toddler sees him and screams in pure delight “Hops!”

JJ will pour in with Henry and it’ll be like old times watching Henry and Jack slunk off together (and they all pretend like they don’t know they’re smoking pot in the backyard). Emily and Dave force him to mediate the same four fights that they always have and then they’ll stick around long after the others have gone home to talk about whatever comes to their minds.

And Penelope.

His house is about to be flooded with baked goods and meals in containers because despite being alive as long as he has, she denies the notion he can feed himself. She’ll organize them in specific ways and each will be labeled in her neat handwriting so he can tell what’s in each. Most of them will be vegetarian because she’s worried about his cholesterol (and the environment) and a few will be spicy and chicken will make its way into a few of the dishes. He’ll thank her and kiss her cheek and she’ll remind him like she always does, that all he has to do is ask. He won’t but he does appreciate how much she cares. As smothering as it can be.

He showers quickly, giddy in a strange way to get out and be properly ready when the others arrive. Not too quickly, the last thing he needs is to bust his ass while Emily is here. She is far too comfortable with herself and with him and he knows that she will come in here if she hears him. The other thing about that woman is that she might have a distaste for constantly being touched but she can put that aside to annoy him. Which has created this weird mind-game thing he knows he’s losing when he doesn’t even notice her encroaching on his personal space.

Everything is a battle with her.

He decides to save himself the trouble of being bullied and searches through his dresser for a pair of jeans. He owns maybe two pairs of jeans both purchased forever ago and just to help him fit in with the parents at Jack’s school during field trips and soccer games. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he was a kid and he knows he still does but he won’t be the reason Jack gets weird looks. Emily had raised an eyebrow at that (why he had even divulged this to her is beyond him) so evidently it didn’t really do the trick but Dave assures him he looks fine and Garcia thinks he looks like a DILF so… he’s fairly certain that’s good. He’s not really sure what that means but he’s learned it’s better not to ask her to clarify.

Emily is fixing the couch when he comes out, the apartment filled with the scent of the coffee she’s brewed while he was showering. “You’re going to burn the house down with this thing,” she tells him. She holds up his heated blanket as it offends her. “You need to go to the doctor, there has to be something they can do.”

What surprises him isn’t her apparent anger-- with Emily, it’s a diversion. Her anger is rarely that, it’s to distract, and right now he knows he’s to perceive her anger and not the way she fears for him. The way that she can’t say “I love you” like the others but can, instead, be outraged that his body has been working against him for so many years. She’s not angry at him for needing to be tucked up in that blanket all the time, she’s afraid of a vascular issue that might kill him or that he’ll leave untreated until they’re all being reunited at the closest general hospital. Waiting for a doctor to tell them that he waited too long or that his heart can’t handle another surgery or a million other things.

He takes the blanket from her, clumsily folding it over and tucking the cords into the folds. “I have gone to the doctor,” he assures her. Not for that specifically but he did bring it up. He leaves it at that for now and she understands that means maybe later. It’s not worth getting into and he doesn’t feel like thinking about George Foyet and his knife today.

“Hey,” Emily hums, smirking at him. “Your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

He stops dead in his tracks, frowning as he looks back at her but just as he’s about to inquire what, no doubt, awful thing she’s done to make her feel the need to compliment him to compensate for it, the apartment door opens. They both turn to the noise and Garcia steps in and freezes when she notices the two of them standing there.

Looking at the bags full of things she has in her arms and then to Emily and then to Hotch she sheepishly smiles. “Happy Birthday?”

With a sigh, having accepted this defeat a while ago, Hotch steps to help her with bags. He tries to hide his amusement but he cuts Emily a glance, three bags in his left hand and more still coming, and he can’t help it. Garcia turns back just as the smile eats its way up his face and he shakes his head. For a split second, he can see her apprehension, the way that her fear of going overboard or embarrassing herself washes over her before she carefully masks it (and to think he gets all the shit about masking). “Thank you,” he whispers so sincerely that he has to avert his eyes. Adding softly, “you know, you’re the only person who ever cares to make me celebrate it?”

Which just makes her sad. “Sir,” she whispers frowning. “You deserve the world, do you know that?”

He blushes, shaking his head, but he can’t get the words out in his shock.

“Oh,” she tsks. She stands on her toes and pulls him down so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you.”

Emily makes a sound of disgust behind them and he’s glad for the distraction before all this undue attention gives him a heart attack. “Bleh,” Emily rolls her eyes. But she brightens when she sees the red Tupperware container holding the cookies. “Are those the--”

Garcia sees Emily zero in on them and hands them right to Hotch, holding them to his chest. “Are not for you,” she says to Emily with a nod of her head.

So Emily just looks to Hotch and he passes them to her with a shrug and weakly defends, “they’ll go stale if she doesn’t eat half of them.” They’re his birthday cookies but she’ll get her hands on them anyway. If not today then the next time she lets herself in. If not her then Reid when he gets bored and wanders over here for entertainment. If not Reid then Dave then Derek… you get the point. He’ll never finish them on his own.

Garcia lets it go because she knows that’s how he is and because she has a crapload of other things to make sure he eats. He leaves her to mess with his fridge, it’s better to let her do her thing. She’ll move his almond milk to the side door because that’s its proper place (even though he’ll move it right back) and come in about five to ten minutes to fuss with him about a specific something she notices he’s lacking. Today it will be the complete lack of breakfast foods in this house when she knows for a fact that his doctors are giving him hell about eating more than once a day.

He’ll have no excuse, never does, but she won’t give him a chance to provide it either way.

Reid arrives next and actually knocks and waits for someone to let him in, something none of the others will do. He sheepishly offers Hotch the books he’s artfully wrapped in a newspaper and Hotch ignores it for a moment to hug him. If they don’t do it now Reid will just wait in anxious anticipation for it because he knows it’s what people do and he likes being hugged by Hotch but he doesn’t know how to initiate it himself.

“The Sultan of Brunei spent $27.2 million on his 50th birthday,” Reid tells him as soon as Hotch lets him go. “Michael Jackson was there,” he says with a nod. And Hotch smiles and listens to him anxiously work his way around the point that he’s trying to make. Which is that by the standards of the Sultan of Brunei, this party will be exceptionally small and quiet… the way Hotch would want it to be.

They are still standing at the door, talking about what the act of giving a card means. The way that the stories get warped and it thrills Reid to slide the pieces of that puzzle together through-out various cultural ideals until you have them. And that America has a very strange, above-average affinity for birthday cards.

Derek nearly hits Reid with the door when he comes in. Too distracted with a squirming Hank on his hip and Savannah behind him fussing with him for not knocking. He brightens the second he places his eyes on the two of them, a face that Hank matches perfectly upon seeing his favorite people.

“Weed!” the toddler greets throwing himself into his godfather’s arms. Reid takes him happily, laughing at how tightly Hank holds onto him. He just loves that Hank never gets tired of him. He could still see Hank every day for a month and Hank would still greet him with the same enthusiasm as the first day.

Derek is kicking his shoes off, offering Savannah his hand so she can do the same when he notices Hank still excitedly talking to Reid. That’s by all means not abnormal but-- “Hey,” Derek mumbles Hank. He nods his head to Hotch who is standing watching Reid and Hank with a bright, wide smile. “Don’t you have something for Hops?”

Reid puts Hank down before the toddler can start to squirm and Hank immediately glues himself to Hotch’s leg. No one knows why it’s just what Hank likes to do but not just, in general, he only does it to Hotch. He stands for a few seconds, both arms wrapped around one of Hotch’s legs, face pressed into the material of his jeans, and Hotch stands still to allow him to do it. Hops is a nickname he has no control over, the same way that Reid doesn’t fight that he’s been “Weed” now since Jack was two and stumbling over his name.

Hotch got off easy. When Henry was younger he just sort of kept his distance from Hotch. Hank… just really loves him.

“Is that a hot wheel?” Hotch asks softly when Hank finally peels himself away enough to offer the bright toy clutched in his hands. Hank beams up at him and stretches to hold it higher, trying to get Hotch to take it. “Oh wow,” Hotch gasps, shaking his head and pretending to just be so impressed by this toy so severely dwarfed in his hand. “Do you know what colors these are?”

Derek holds his hand out for Savannah to take and guides her through the house. Moving them to the kitchen to talk with Garcia and Emily knowing that he won’t be getting his son back this afternoon. Both because Hank won’t want to leave Hotch or Reid’s side and because Hotch and Reid won’t want him to leave. The Hotwheels was entirely Hank, they spent twenty minutes finding the perfect one when all Derek needed from the store was stain. Though they all agreed to no presents because Hotch would already hate them invading his home with cake, they all got him presents.

The others all got him books because that’s what they know he likes and he really does love to receive books. They’re fun entertainment and they all say something about how not only they perceive him but also the sorts of things that they like and he… well, he loves that.

Derek built him a new bookshelf. It’s sitting in the back of the truck and he’s waiting on Will to get here to drag the thing in here. Derek had noticed two weekends ago that one of the shelves Hotch uses in the hall was bowing under the weight of the books on it so he’d made something to replace it. Thin but heavy-duty-- he’d considered all the ins and outs of the current shelf. Things he didn’t like about it until he has a higher shelf that doesn’t stick out so obscenely.

Which doesn’t matter, really, Hotch will love it either way.

Hank keeps “Hops” distracted while the others pull dinner together. Emily is set to ice the cake but she’s awful and she’s sent to sit in the living room with the other three. Hotch is sitting in the recliner, Hank sitting on his knees and telling him about what he did in preschool this week while Reid pokes through the bookshelf Hotch keeps by the door.

JJ knocks as she comes in but still lets herself in. Henry is bummed to see Jack isn’t here yet but he’s quickly distracted and swept right back out the door to help his father and Derek move the bookshelf into the house. They don’t really need Henry’s help but it’s an effective way to ensure Hotch doesn’t try to help. Not because he can’t but because… he’s old and they don’t want to break him.

They’re just buying time, anyway, until Jack and Dave get here.

With them comes the party…

Hotch only puts Hank down to hug Jack, biting down his tears when he realizes that his son now stands just as tall as he is. Probably bound to be taller. He’s grown out his blonde hair in college and just as Hotch is opening his mouth to ask about school, how seeking out that Master’s Degree is treating him, he spots--

“A puppy!” Hank shouts.

Jack smiles timidly, stepping back to show his father the dog still held back by Dave’s hold on her collar. “Her name is Scout!” Jack kneels down, beaming up at his father while the thrilled puppy licks his face. “Do you get it?”

Oh, he gets it alright. Emily had snitched him out two weeks ago (to his own son, of all people) and admitted she was a little worried. He still doesn’t think there was ground for her fears. It’s not abnormal for him to shut himself out and if his therapist doesn’t think he’s any crazier than normal then that should mean he’s fine. At least, that’s how Hotch feels about it. That’s ignoring the way that everyone else feels. Which is that he’s visibly more on the edge and jumpy. That he gets irritated in public spaces and his anxiety is getting worse despite starting therapy and medicine he swears is helping.

Jack had done his best to get through to his father but sometimes Hotch makes those conversations like talking to a brick wall. That conversation had ended rather badly, honestly. Jack had yelled, shouting mindlessly that he’s twenty-five and he’s too young to have to be taking care of Hotch like this. Too young to have to fear that each day he’ll receive that phone call and the crazy thing is that Jack wouldn’t even be surprised-- everything about Hotch’s life is damning proof to the fact that he acts impulsively, reckless, and without care to his own well-being.

Jack had called later and he’d apologized, they both had. It had been careless on Jack’s behalf, Jessica had explained to him at sixteen some delicate things about his father. He’d come to understand just what it means for everyone around Hotch to love him. The way that his mother had tried to stifle that urge in his father and Jessica and Dave and Emily and Derek and everyone who has ever loved a man like Aaron Hotchner has tried to walk him back off that ledge. But it’s as if he was born there and you can move him but you can’t take that fundamental calling away. Can’t wash his darkness away.

Jack had spent his entire childhood likening the characters around him to his father, just pulling at strings to understand the man. Sometimes he’d earn himself a smile and other times a grunt. He’d bring his father the books or replay scenes in movies all to just see his reactions to know if the man he sees his father as is the same one Hotch sees himself as.

Freshman year of high school they’d read To Kill A Mockingbird and he’d thought his father to be a man like Atticus Finch. In many ways, he is but he keeps coming back to that book. Until during that heavily apologetic phone call, Jack had laughed and realized his father might be a bit like Atticus Finch but he’s a Boo Radley. The recluse that always represents unwavering good.

Hence Scout.

What had driven Boo Radley from his home? Little Scout Finch.

He lets them into the house, not really sure what to say. “You know,” Hotch mumbles, shaking his head. He watches the puppy eagerly work her way around the others. Snaking between legs and nearly knocking Hank over in her excitement but the boy is around enough dogs to only laugh harder. “You could have just got me a… gym membership of something.”

Derek huffs at that and now, he’s sitting in his living room watching his closest friends snickering at his son’s clever book reference. With a sigh, he leans down and offers his hand to the puppy, frowning when her first instinct is to lick him. “Hi, Scout.”

Jack squats down, petting Scout while she continues basking in Hotch’s attention. “You don’t go to the gym, dad.” Jack rubs behind her ears, smiling when Scout doesn’t divert her attention from Hotch. She’s zeroed in on him and he’s fairly content with that. “Besides I got Scout from that program that they run in Richmond.” There’s this dog training thing they do down there that his friend actually works at. Scout failed her training-- as it turns out she’s a bit of a reject. They’d tried to start her out as a service dog but she’d been too smart for that too. Too eager.

Hotch raises an eyebrow at that, not liking the sound of what he thinks is happening. Those dogs are expensive and it’s already enough that she’s a German Shephard. “What do you mean?”

Jack glances at Dave, “well…”

Dave steps up and soothes it out. “I made some calls and Jack’s friend helped us out. Scout is a reject from two academies, a failed service dog and from the police dog academy in Richmond. So she’s too smart for them to just send anywhere.”

Great, Hotch thinks.

“It’s perfect,” Emily snickers. “Hotch loves to take care of things and now he’s essentially got a toddler again.”

“She is potty trained,” Jack offers quickly.

But Emily is right and the idea is brilliant. Hotch does like to take care of things and having Scout will prompt him to start taking walks in the morning again. It might help him implement a strict eating routine, place him in the kitchen to feed her. He won’t go do things for himself but he will take her to the dog park and sit there until she’s tired. Throw balls for her to retrieve and (what had been the killing stone) is that she’s far too smart for her own good. She’s got other training. Senses anxiety and depression and is very protective.

Hotch frowns down at Scout, she’s placed her head on his knee watching him as he takes this in. Hank is leaned up against her side, fingers trailing through her short fur, and she’s entirely unbothered by it. She’s only worried about Hotch and Hotch is worried about her. He’s never had a pet before. Jack had a goldfish he fed occasionally but… there’s no way that counts.

“Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing at his fingers anxiously and frowning when Scout smacks his hand with her nose. He sighs and puts his hand on her head, scratching like he thinks she wants. Too distracted to note what she’s effortlessly just done. Put off by her clinginess, he’s not even thinking about the curling hot ball of nerves in his stomach. His mind does wander but she nudges him again and he sighs and keeps patting her head.

Dinner goes well and Scout and Hank are glued to his sides. Hank to his left feeding him chips and Scout green beans which Hotch sees and chooses to ignore. Her immediate allegiance to him is a little strange, she’s not too bothered with Garcia or Derek no matter how hard he tries to win her over (feeding her green beans just like his son). Scout does like Hank, Henry, Jack, and Reid. She takes to them like it’s nothing. She’ll go from ignoring Derek’s attempts to get her to sit to trot right over to Reid and lay over his feet.

Hotch does enjoy that, it’s funny.

They funnel out slowly after eight. Hank has already fallen asleep in Hotch’s arms and Savannah has to wipe his tears up and shush him back to hazy contentment with the promise he’ll see Hops soon. Derek will probably be over in a day or two to make sure that the shelf is holding up well and to transfer the books and he’ll bring Hank along to distract Hotch to do it.

JJ and Will trickle out not too long after. Henry and Jack conspire together to get Dave to take them for ice cream and he caves-- Jack promises to text him before he falls asleep to tell him where he landed for the night.

Garcia takes Reid home, won’t let him take the subway back at this hour and Hotch doesn’t even have to ask they just know to text him when they get home safe. He promises to eat the food Garcia left and she already has the date in which he should run out marked on her calendar. She’ll give him a week to bring back the Tupperware before coming over here herself and seeing what he has and hasn’t eaten.

Emily sticks around until ten. The two of them picking up meager things and she promises to come by early tomorrow and the two of them will go to PetSmart to figure out what kind of food Scout should be eating.

And before he knows it…

“I guess it’s just me and you then.” Scout tilts her head at him. “You want to… go to bed?”

He’s not really sure how the dog thing works. TV has shown him plenty of times they’re not supposed to sleep in your bed so he makes her a blanket bed of her own and marks down a dog bed on his list of things to get tomorrow at the pet store. He tells her goodnight and then blushes at how silly that sounds.

He’s in bed, changed into pajamas, and yawning into his book but he’s committed to reading a chapter every night. He hears her get up but he still jumps when his bedroom door is opened. She doesn’t wait for a command and doesn't listen to his “no” before jumping up into the bed alongside him. He’s trying to grumble, to get up but she lays right across his hips. Turning her head to look up at him and he gives up. “Only tonight,” he says.

Tonight turns into the way she sits between his legs, when they’re listening to the guy at PetSmart help them pick out food. To the way she looks up at him when he tries to estimate how big she’ll be to get her a properly sized bed. Which ultimately turns into him giving up and Emily hiding her smirk at just how whipped he already is.

Tonight turns into every night and if his nightmares stop coming as frequently because she’s laying atop him he doesn’t say anything. If he starts going out more and the team starts picking out pet friendly places to meet him for lunch or to have a coffee break then he also doesn't say anything but Scout is right there.

So… what exactly does it take to draw Aaron Hotchner away from the ghosts? A puppy.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jack hotchner #hank morgan #savannah hayes #jennifer jareau #will lamontagne #henry jareau #david rossi

76 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Text

Show Pony

Chapter 3: Roses Are Falling

Read on Ao3

Steve’s hand was sweaty in Billy’s as he pulled him through the crowds in the fairground, ducking and weaving between the people milling about.

Billy let himself be dragged, staring at Steve’s ass in his little denim shorts.

It had been one week since their date at the diner.

A week of Billy showing up to the rodeo, watching Steve compete in his event, and making out with him behind the arena.

It was fun, sneaking around together in the blazing summer heat.

He had even brought Max a few times, letting her wander around with some chick her own age she met. Apparently, her dad works at the rodeo or someshit. Billy wasn’t listening when she explained. Steve had been across the arena, taking off his flannel shirt and trading it for another one of his slutty little crop tops.

It was a gorgeous show.

But Max was somewhere eating her body weight in funnel cake while Steve took him into a tent labeled Employees Only.

There was an eclectic group of people sitting at the long tables in the tent, all greeting Steve as he pulled Billy through to a group of younger people sitting together at the end of one of the tables.

Steve pushed Billy onto one of the benches, perching right on his lap like that was totally fine. Like it was easy for Billy to just. Keep his dick in check.

The girl sitting across from them sighed heavily, raising one eyebrow at Steve.

“Shut up, Robin.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she was still giving Steve a very pointed look.

“You don’t have to.” Steve slumped back against Billy’s chest, no doubt petulant.

She shook her head, finally addressing Billy.

“I’m Robin.”

“She does barrel racing,” Steve leaned back, muttering the information into Billy’s ear. His breath was hot against Billy’s skin, and Billy had to fight down a shiver that crept up his spine despite the blazing heat.

Another girl was sitting next to Robin, a pretty brunette with doe eyes to rival Steve’s. She seemed vaguely familiar.

And then it clicked.

“Aren’t you in the pageants?”

She laughed softly.

“My name’s Heather. And yes, I’m reigning Miss Rodeo USA, so I’ve been with these guys and will be until the next girl is crowned. It’s been a good time.” She glanced over at Robin, bumping their shoulders together. Billy raised one eyebrow at Robin, catching her eye and making her flush slightly. He shot her a quick wink.

Steve shifted in his lap, putting one arm over Billy’s shoulders, winding his fingers through his little ponytail.

“So, Billy,” Robin tried to move the conversation along, rolling her shoulders back. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope.”

“Nah, just, I feel like I know you quite well know. Like, really well. Like better than I ever wanted to know a guy-”

“Okay, yeah, Robin. We get it. Thanks.” Steve squirmed slightly in Billy’s lap, the back of his neck and the tips of his ears a bright red color. It was cute. Billy didn’t realize when Steve’s cheeks went all pink, that, other, places of him flushed too. He wondered how far down that rosy tint on Steve’s cheeks went. If it was all over his chest, if it leads down to his-

Nope. Not going there right now. Not when Steve is sitting on Billy’s lap, and they’re in fucking public. Absolutely not. No thanks. Billy’s fine.

Robin squinted at him, and he tried to keep his face as blank as possible.

Steve sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his head.

“I’m getting a pop. Anyone else?”

Robin waved him off, and he was gone with a roll of his eyes.

“So, you’re the poor San Diego bastard. My condolences.”

Billy squinted at her.

“Not sure what you mean.”

She took a deep breath, looking at Heather briefly.

“Look. You know this little fling is just that. A little fling. Steve, he kinda, does this. Finds someone in every place we’re stationed, and has a month-long something with them. He loves attention but he’s too scared of commitment to do anything else. And honestly, I’m saying this all for your sake, because I’ve seen people get attached. He’s gonna eat you alive, and then he’s gonna leave, and it’s easier for you if you know that going in.”

Robin’s words settled like a fucking pit in Billy’s stomach.

Because, yeah. He, like, kinda figured that. He knew their time was limited. Knew that Steve would slip through his fingers. And really, that was fine. Billy thinks he’d be the exact same way if the roles were reversed, that he would be constantly moving from one person to the next, never getting lonely, but never getting deep, either.

He understands the whole commitment-phobe thing. Kinda takes one to know one.

So he gets it.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like shit to have it put. So plainly.

“I’m sorry. That was probably too harsh but, you seem like a nice guy, and Steve doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s not trying to hurt people, he just, definitely uses the whole traveling rodeo thing to his advantage.”

“Nah, I get it. Really, I kinda figured it out. He said he likes to make friends wherever they are. So, it’s fine. And I think sometimes harsh can be alright.” He doesn’t wanna make Steve’s friend feel bad.

And really, he did know what they were doing and what this was about. It just sucks having it confirmed by someone else. And put. So plainly.

“I’m really not trying to be mean. I just kinda wanted to prepare you. If this is gonna be something that hurts, maybe it’s best to get out now.” Robin had very pretty blue eyes and freckles all over her face. She seemed warm, and the way she was staring at him was with so much concern.

“Thank you. I get it, honest. I’d probably act just the same if I were him.”

“If you were who?” Steve had returned, slapping a can of root beer on the table in front of them, taking a seat pressed as close as possible to Billy, lifting up his arm to slide underneath it.

“Quit being nosy.” Robin reached out to muss up Steve’s hair, poking him in the forehead. “What are you two doing today?”

Steve shrugged, taking the bait and moving on.

“Wander the grounds. Maybe hang out at my place.” Billy’s interest piqued. He had no idea Steve had a place. “Might sneak out and go for a drive or something. You got any preference?” Steve leaned over the table, resting his elbows on top, placing his face in his hands, turning to look at Billy.

“We could kick around here. I gotta drive Max home later so we should probably stick around.” Steve grinned at him.

“Well, c’mon then. You’ve got plenty to see around here.”

Billy felt like Steve has already dragged through the entire grounds, he doesn’t know how there’s more to see.

But it turned out there’s a lot more. Because Steve’s place, as it turns out, is one in a huge crowd of trailers.

It was kinda out of Billy’s wildest imagination. Like what he’d picture an old-school traveling circus to be like.

People were milling around everywhere, Steve saying hi to almost everyone they passed. Animals were being led to and from the large arena and the makeshift paddocks that were set up in the open grass.

It was like nowhere Billy’s ever been before.

Steve led him through the maze of trailers to a smaller version of an old school Airstream near the back of the lot, still hitched up to the back of a much larger, and very nice-looking, RV.

Stevie Harrington was painted in curling dark green letters on the rounded metal door, a little cow munching on some grass painted below it.

“That your art?”

Steve snorted.

“ God, no. Robin did it for me a few years ago. That’s why it looks good.”

The hinges on the door squealed when he pulled it open and led Billy inside.

It was hot in the airstream, and Steve turned on the solar power to get a small fan moving air through the place, propping open the door and the tiny window above the table.

“Home sweet traveling home.”

“Damn. This ain’t too bad of a setup.”

It really wasn’t. Sure, it was small, but it was perfect for one person. A tiny kitchenette faced the minuscule bathroom. The far sides of the trailer were taken up by a dining area, a table with booth-like seating, and a queen-sized bed taking up the opposite side, a small closet smushed between the bed and the kitchen.

It was immaculately clean, not totally what Billy had expected from Steve. The bed was made, an old-looking, worn-out stuffed horse placed neatly in front of the pillows.

There were pictures pinned up on little string light clothespins on the wall the bed was shoved against, and Steve even had a few posters over the booth seats.

“It’s kinda nice. I saved up for a while to buy it. It’s kind of a lot being trapped in an RV with your parents, let me tell you. I’m still hooked up to theirs, and when we move I ride with them, usually, but at least I’ve got some space to myself.” Steve looked down at his feet. “Plus, I kinda figured, this is about as close as I’ll ever come to living on my own.”

“I really do like it. You’ve made it real nice in here.”

Steve looked back up to him, smiling proudly.

“We don’t have to like, hang out in here. I just thought I’d welcome you in. To like, say, you know, if you’re ever around but don’t wanna hang out doing the same rodeo shit all the time, we could, like, spend some time in here.” Steve’s cheeks were going red.

And Billy was fairly certain he knew where this was going.

So he took the metaphorical bull by the horns, and wrapped his fingers in Steve’s literal belt loops, and pulled him close enough that their lips could touch.

And apparently, Billy was right. Because Steve kissed him back immediately, and fervently, sliding his arms over Billy’s shoulders and pressing into him enough to move Billy back a few steps until his knees hit the bed, and he fell to sit on it.

Steve wasted no time climbing on his lap, kneeling straddling Billy, pressed together as close as possible.

Steve broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily and Billy attached himself to Steve’s neck, leaving wet kisses in his path down the long column of his throat.

“God, fuck. Can we-”

“ Yeah. Yeah, Baby,” Billy was breathless as he replied, getting both hands under Steve’s ass and flipping their position in one fluid motion, getting Steve on his back, his legs wrapped around Billy’s waist.

“Get the door.”

Billy pressed a long sucking kiss to Steve’s neck before pulling away, slamming the door closed as Steve drew the blinds on the window above the bed and turned on the air conditioning unit in the ceiling.

“It’s gonna get super fucking hot in here if we fuck.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Steve laughed at Billy, rolling back to lay properly on the bed, taking his stuffed horse and tossing it on the table behind Billy.

“I don’t want her to have to see this.”

“Fine by me.” Billy was back on him in a second, pushing his hands up Steve’s shirt, yanking it off him as fast as possible.

Steve was so fucking gorgeous.

He had a light tan all over his body, with definite paler parts where his shirts usually sit.

And he was fit. His muscles weren’t as bulky as Billy’s, but he was obviously strong.

Billy leaned over him, tasting the salt on his skin as Steve began fumbling with the buttons of Billy’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so roughly one of the shoulder seams groaned, threatening to rip.

Billy took that as his cue to pull away from Steve again, shedding his shirt and kicking off his shoes, helping Steve out of his little short shorts.

He was wearing this excellent pair of boots, deep red with white embroidered stitching covering the boot.

Steve leaned forward, moving to pull off the boots.

“Wait, no. Leave ‘em on.”

Steve looked at him.

“You call me a hick all the fuckin’ time, and now you’re here saying you wanna fuck me in my boots.”

“It’s hot. You’re like the chick from Footloose .”

“Aren’t you gay?”

“Hot is hot, Steve.”

Steve huffed a laugh, putting his leg back down, letting Billy settle between both of them.

“So, are we gonna talk about the girl in an eighties movie, or are you going to fuck me through this mattress?”

“Alright, bossy. You got lube?”

Steve huffed, poking Billy’s chest until he moved off him.

Steve sat up, crawling to the end of the bed, digging through the laundry in the hamper for the bottle of lube.

Billy stared at him.

Mostly, he was just staring at his asshole. It was so perfect and pink, and looked buttery and soft.

And Jesus, he really just wanted to lick it, to get his face buried between Steve’s cheeks and go to town on the pretty pink furl of muscle.

And, well, what’s stopping him?

Absolutely nothing.

He got up, following Steve’s path until he was behind him, taking each cheek in one hand.

Steve froze where he was digging through the laundry, Billy’s breath puffing between his cheeks.

“What are you-”

And then Billy licked up his crack, his tongue dragging all the way up from his balls, flicking once against his hole.

“ Billy .” Steve spread his legs, pushing his hips back into Billy’s face, wordlessly asking for more.

So Billy gave it to him.

He opened his mouth, licking all around his rim, pressing his tongue just slightly inside, sucking on the soft pink flesh, making Steve’s breath hitch and whines pour out of his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

Billy responded by pulling back, and spitting on Steve’s hole.

Steve was taken by surprise, if his soft gasp was anything to go by. He dropped his head against the bed, biting onto the blanket.

Billy just kept going, using his lips and tongue and teeth, opening him up and getting him wet.

“Fuck, Billy, please just fuck me. I want you so bad .” Steve’s voice was pitchy and breathy, muffled in the blanket.

He was grinding his hips forward and back, pressing himself against Billy’s tongue.

Like he wanted nothing more than he wanted Billy’s tongue in his ass right then.

And Billy certainly wasn’t complaining, not at how fucking nice and soft his asshole was against his tongue, how he tasted kinda clean and kinda musky at the same time. It was heady and Billy would happily spend the rest of his stupid life with his face buried between Steve’s cheeks.

Something smacked against the top of Billy’s head, and he pulled away briefly to find a bottle of lube on the bed, the one that Steve had no doubt tossed over his shoulder and accidentally accosted Billy with.

“That fuckin’ hit me in the head, you piece a’ shit.”

“I don’t care,” Steve whined, pushing his hips back even further, spreading himself out more and more for Billy to hungrily take in. “Just finger me and fuck me !”

“Bossy.”

Steve huffed, shifting his head around until he could look back at Billy, his brows pinched in a little scowl, giving Billy a dirty look that was equal parts adorable pout and sexy scowl. He looked like the grumpiest little slut.

And Billy indulged him, squeezing out a big glob of lube, meticulously coating his first two fingers with it.

“I know what I like, and I get what I like.”

“Jesus, I thought all them girls were the rodeo queens. Not you .”

“I’m the queen of getting my fucking way. Now for the love of God, put your fingers in me.”

And Billy couldn’t do anything but indulge him.

He began with just one finger, sliding it slowly and deliberately down to the last knuckle.

Steve sighed as Billy’s finger entered him, relaxing his upper body into the bed, somehow canting his hips up even more, his back arched as much as Billy’s ever fuckin’ seen.

So Billy took a chance, pumping his finger in and out a few times, pulling it nearly all the way out, only to replace it with both fingers. He moved slowly, simply fucking Steve with his fingers for a moment, watching Steve as he crooked his fingers downward.

And Steve moaned, and it was like he became a puddle. All his muscles relaxing and unwinding as Billy curled his fingers, pressing deeply against his prostate, rubbing tiny circles into the small bundle of nerves.

“God, Bill. That feels so fucking good,” Steve said through a throaty moan. Billy was slowly moving his fingers in and out of Steve, pressing down into that wonderful spot each time he was buried all the way to the knuckle. “Add another. Please, I want you in me.”

Billy had to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure of his own dick, flushed red and oh so painful where it was hard against his stomach.

But he did as Steve told him to do, drawing out his two fingers to press in a third.

There was something of a shift in the sticky airstream. As those three thick fingers sank into Steve, it was as though both boys agreed to move faster. Steve began pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Billy’s fingers, matching the steady pace Billy had set with his hand.

Billy was tugging his fingers in and out, pushing into Steve’s prostate with each movement, the lube creating a squelching noise as they picked up the pace.

And finally, Steve had enough.

He moved his hips forward, sitting back on his heels to look at Billy over his shoulder.

His face was flushed, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, his pupils blown wide, making his already dark eyes seem nearly black. He tossed Billy a condom, and Billy caught it against his heaving chest.

Steve’s breath caught as Billy ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, looking like some kinda fuckin’ animal, rolling it onto himself with a practiced hand.

“Billy, I fucking want you-”

Billy cut him off by pressing himself against Steve’s back, kissing him harshly as he felt him up, his hands roving, touching every bit of Steve he could possibly manage.

Steve had his own mission, reaching awkwardly behind him to take Billy’s stiff cock in hand, fumbling slightly as he lined up the flushed head of his dick with his slicked-up hole, teasing himself before urging Billy to push on in.

Their lips lost touch from one another the second Billy began moving his hips forward, their moans mingling in the space between them.

“God, fuck, Stevie.” Billy could hardly control himself. He so wanted to let loose, start fucking wildly into the tight heat of Steve’s body, take him as hard and fast as possible.

He let his hands drop down and settle on Steve’s hips. He could feel the firm muscles tensing under his hands, like Steve was barely keeping himself from rocking back to fuck himself harder and faster on Billy’s cock.

And that’s what pushed Billy over the edge.

He pushed Steve forward until he was back in position, face down, ass up. His hands gripped Steve’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Jesus, Billy hoped to fucking God Steve had dark marks in the shape of Billy’s fingers for days and days. And he let himself go for it.

Steve was making these breathy, punched-out noises, like with every harsh thrust of Billy’s hips, all the air in his lungs was being forced right out of him.

Billy was slamming them together, pulling Steve’s hips back as he surged his own forward, pulling out almost entirely each time. He was relentless, taking Steve like a goddamn animal right there on the once neat bed.

Neither of them was going to last long, they both knew it.

Billy had taken so much time opening Steve up with his lips and tongue and fingers, Steve wouldn’t even be shocked if he came completely untouched, falling apart with only the attentions Billy has granted to his hole.

Until Billy reached around him with his left hand, still gripping Steve’s body with his right.

He took hold of Steve’s leaking cock, brushing his thumb over the slit to collect some of the glistening precum, drawing his hand tightly down the shaft, moving at an agonizingly slow pace compared to the buck of his hips, keeping Steve on the edge of something, making everything way too much and definitely not enough.

And there was nothing Steve could do.

He felt fucking helpless as Billy pounded him. It was taking all his energy not to just melt into the mattress at this point and let Billy have his way with him.

But Billy was getting close, too close to keep this game up for much longer.

He sped up the movement of his hand, his fist beginning to pump faster and faster over Steve’s aching cock. He wanted him to finish first, wanted to watch as Steve writhed and moaned about.

It didn’t take long. Less than a minute of Billy jerking Steve as quick and rough as he was fucking him, and Steve was spilling out onto the blanket below him, nearly yelling out while his hips convulsed and his fingers twisted until he had a white knuckle grip on the blanket.

Billy could only just hang on, fuck and jerk Steve through it, only letting his grip on his cock go a little slack when Steve finally relaxed a bit below him.

Billy pulled out, snapping off the condom and taking his dick in hand, finishing himself off all over Steve’s lower back, watching his thick cum drip down the slope of his ass.

“ Fuck. You’re so hot,” Billy said, totally in awe. Steve was even hotter than normal wearing nothing but his bright red boots and Billy’s spunk.

Billy took a cloth from the tiny bathroom, getting it a little wet to wipe the cum off of Steve as he lay stretched like a cat on the small bed.

“Thank God I don’t have to ride tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit, let alone get in a saddle.” He threw a wink over his shoulder at Billy, bending his knees to let his feet kick up behind him, crossing his ankles in the red boots.

“We should make the best of our good fortune, then. I’ve got a few more rounds in me.”

“Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ devil .”

#yikes writes #show pony #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #rodeo au

47 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 3 years ago

Text

My Little Brothers revenge Part 1

My little brothers revenge

The Hickman's were for the most part a average middle class family. both the parents worked and they had two children.

A 12 year old named Justin who had natural blond hair in a brush cut though he currently had it dyed indigo blue to go with his icy blue eyes. He had a jock's build (well as much as one could have at that age) and wasn't scared to use his physical power to his advantage.

his little brother Alex was short for his age and was always being mistaken for a 6 year old or worse when he was 9 and a half. He had red hair that went down to his shoulders and he kept in a pony tail and his checks were sprinkled with freckles.His slim body meant he was last to be picked for any sports though unlike his brother he was a strait A student and actually sometimes had to help his older brother with his homework, a fact that neither of them enjoyed.

It was their mother Anne (who Alex took after in appearance) who insisted that he help his big brother and it always ended with Justin pissed off and Alex hanging from a bed post by his sponge bob underoo's.

Their father who Justin took after in appearance refused to believe his little all star could be such a bully and so it was usually left to Alex to figure out a way to hold his own or go and whine to their mother, getting him labeled a mama's boy.

Still all brothers fight, it was just a fact of life and it might of all just gone this way with them being a semi happy family till the day the bully of a big brother took things a step too far and Alex decided that Justin had to be put in his place once and for all.

Alex had been hanging out with his friends Saturday afternoon, playing video games in the living room and having semi pissed off Justin who had wanted to watch a movie with HIS friends.

But mom and dad made sure that the TV time was shared and that both boys got a block of time and with their parents just down the block, Justin knew better then to try and strong arm them out.

Said friends were Kyle and Lyle, twins from down the block who had a semi creepy habit of finishing each others sentences and had light caramel skin and black hair in matching mushroom cuts. it was easy enough to tell them apart as by a semi quick of fate Lyle had brown eyes while Kyle had green.

Missing in action because he'd gone fishing with his dad was Max, anther shrimp who had dirty blond hair in a short Mohawk (his attempt to look cool which had backfired) and was so white he looked pale most of the time.

being shrimps themselves they had hit it off well with Alex and had formed a semi losers club of sorts, though Alex wasn't found of the name the twins who loved anything Steven king had insisted and he was out voted 2 to 1 since Max had joined the group after.

the boys were doing a retro gaming session of sorts, playing downloaded old games on a new machine and the game of choice for the moment was Ninja turtles two.

"Man, this game is so bad.." Lyle spoke up, playing as Leonardo.

"That it's almost good!" Kyle finished and was playing as Ralph.

"heh, that the fun part of these old games..you know they were giving it their all but just were limited." Alex said.

all three of them were seated on the hard wood floor of the living room though they had spread out a blanket since despite the chill of the October air his parents had refused to turn on the heat yet.

the twins nodded and Alex went to say something else when he hear the booming footsteps of his brother then a familiar stink hit his nose.

'No way, he wouldn't!' Alex thought.

"Hey Little Alexandra, Didn't mom tell you to toss out your pissy wet diapie when you got changed this morning? It's bad enough your a bed wetter, do you have to leave your soggy huggies around?" Justin asked.

and indeed Justin was holding out a totally soaked Spider-man print diaper in front of him, holding it with just a finger and his thumb and holding his nose.

Behind him were his friend Adam (Nicknamed grizz or grizzly because of his girth and wildly unkempt brown hair) and Rayne, actually a year younger then the other two but a head taller and so very, very much stupider. Rayne kept his head shaved because he thought it made him look more like the pro wrestlers that he so so loved.

"is that-" Lyle asked, pausing the game and turning to look.

"-A diaper?" Kyle finished, raising a eyebrow.

"JUSTIN! Mom told you not show people those! and I DID toss it out!" Alex huffed and whined, his cheeks going crimson then adding. "And DON'T call me Alexandra!"

"Whatever you say pamper pisser. Look, I went to go into our room to get something and was assaulted by the stink of your bed wetter pants." Justin said and then tossed the soggy thing at Alex, hitting him in the face and knocking him over.

the truth was Alex KNEW he'd tossed the diaper out this morning, he wasn't allowed to toss his very much needed bed time diapers out in the house trash because Dad and Justin would raise a fuss about it stinking up the house and he'd had to wait five minutes because the paper boy had stopped to talk to Mr. Johnson next door.

"JUSTIN GROSS!" Alex whined and sat up, whining and now smelling like stale pee.

"Whatever dork, go and toss your diaper out then take a shower..me and the guys are gonna start our movie early. Wonder twins, I'm sure you don't wanna stick around and hang out with a pamper packer like my little brother right?" Justin said.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Lyle huffed and went to put a supportive hand on Alex's shoulder, but then pulled it back.

he was with his friend but that didn't mean he wanted to get any of the ick on him.

"What he said! Everyone matures differently! Heck, Lyle only just stopped needing a night light this year!" Kyle said, then pout his hands over his mouth as his brother glared at him.

"...Pfffftt BWHAHAHAHAHA!" all three big bullies broke into gut busting laughter.

"I'm not the one who has to suck on a pacifier during thunder storms!" Lyle shot back and blew a raspberry at his twin who huffed and glared.

the bullies naturally were loving it as the twins only dug themselves in deeper and Alex just face palmed.

"Guys, you're NOT helping yourselves." He pointed out.

"Oh my god, it's a group of BABIES! No wonder they all get along!" Grizz laughed, slapping his leg.

"I bet their next sleep over is gonna have them in a crib." Rayne added.

"Alright pamper packers, out of the living room, this movie is PG 13 and I don't want you all blorting your pants when something scary happens. Wonder twins, get your asses home. Alexandra, go take a shower AFTER you toss out your pissy diaper." Justin said, unable to believe just how well all of this had worked out.

"Whatever jerk.." Alex huffed and got up.

he saw his friends off though the twins were still semi huffing and fighting, shoving each other as the walked away and Alex got his wet diaper tossed out without anyone seeing him.

as he went upstairs and got his shower ready one thing was on his mind.

'This means war. I'm gonna make him feel EXACTLY how embarrassing being seen in diapers around your fiends is.' Alex vowed to himself.

Ok, he had no idea HOW he was going to do so, but while Justin may of won the first battle, it was going to be Alex who won the war and prove his Brain's out did his brother brawn.

The movie was going about as well as could be expected since they had to keep pausing it to have anther laugh at just how dorky Alex and his friends were.

Of course Rayne and Grizz had known for awhile (even if Justin technically wasn't suppose to of told them) about Alex being a diaper filler. (and he might of exaggerated what all Alex used his diapers for)

Maybe a SMALL part of Justin had felt sorry for Alex being humiliated like that in front of his friends, but Grizz had actually come up with the idea and he didn't wanna look like a pussy in front of the guys.

Besides with it coming out that the twins were just as big of dorks as his little brother any real guilt had vanished and he toyed with the idea of dragging out Alex's old play pen out of the basement for the next time he had all his dorky friends over.

'heh, get some pacifiers to shut'em up..put them all in Alex's diapers and take lots of pictures. boom, homework and chore bitches till I graduate.' Justin thought with a smirk and chuckled.

"what's so funny? Oooo and I know that look. Someone's had a evil thought." Grizz asked.

"Heh.. How would you guys feel about making some diapered nerds do our homework for us?" Justin asked.

"well, could be funny, but where are we gonna find some?" Rayne asked.

"..." Grizz roiled his eyes

"...Rayne buddy just smile and listen." Justin said semi sweat dropping.

"I can do that!" Rayne said with a big toothy grin.

Shaking his head Justin started to explain his evil plan, and his friends laughed and chuckled, and were MORE then on board.

Getting out of the shower and drying off, Alex got dressed in a pair of black jogging pants and a t-shirt then sat on his bed with his laptop.

He tried different google searches trying to figure out just how to get his brother back in diapers but for the most part it ended up giving him story link's that he bookmarked to look over later and see if there was anything usable.

He did find a forum called little brothers revenge and it had some really wicked ideas for the most part, but only two threads popped up when he searched for diaper.

the first one was clearly bull with it talking about how this kid had pooped in a diaper and hide it in his big brothers room and gotten the big brother in trouble (and even if it wasn't, Alex would hold off crapping himself as a weapon of last resort.)

the other thread was old, and had been posted just before Christmas of last year and had a little brother talk about how he had set his brother up to look like he wanted diapers for Christmas and his dad had fallen for it, and so had the rest of the family.

Of course there was a lot of disbelief in the read over that and one guy commented 'pics or your full of shit!'

As Alex scrolled down, he pretty much thought the same but then his jaw dropped as there was a picture of a sleeping boy, in a t-shirt and thick diapers and sucking on a paci and a younger boy was in frame too, it was a semi selfie and was smirking and giving the peace sign. the caption under the picture read 'Believe me now bitches?'

"Hoooly shitttttt." Alex said, this guy was his hero!

he didn't seem to be activate on the forum anymore though, there were a bout a dozen replies and a few more comments from the guy but then he vanished.

his user profile did have a e-mail attached to it and so Alex snagged it and went to write the guy a e-mail.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: DUDE YOUR MY HERO!

Hey just wanted to say, I saw your post on Little brothers revenge and wanted to say how awesome that was and also I was wondering if you had any advice or tips on getting a big brother in padding. mine's being a total butt hole lately and just ugggghhh @_@

I had one idea about maybe like peeing on his bed after he gets up to frame him for bed wetting, what do you think? hope to hear from you soon!

E-mail written Alex clicked send and then went to kill some time play a few games online, never once suspecting that while he was trying to plot his big brother diaper doom, he was likewise plotting out Alex's downstairs.

It was a hour latter when Alex heard the ding that told him he'd gotten a reply and he switched tabs to go and take a look.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re:DUDE YOUR MY HERO

Heh, thanks for the high praise though I gotta warn you, first of all this is something you've gotta be reallllly careful with. Diaper humiliation is a double edged sword, trust me. Had a friend named Ken who tried this and now he's in diapers.

Anyways just taking a leak on your big bro's bed is dumb, you'll get busted for sure! what I'd recommend is making use of laxatives and pee pills in increasing doses till he's wetting his pants all the time and blorting them too. It's a longer game but better results.

what made you wanna get his butt back in diapers anyways, and FYI i expect 'baby pictures' when your plan works.

Alex thought about that for a second and couldn't help but wonder if maybe this 'ken' was really Ben, but pushed that thought out of his head as he started to write his reply.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re:Re:DUDE YOUR MY HERO!

Oh well, I'm a bed wetter and the butt hole went and fished one of my soggy diapers out of the trash and threw it at me while I was hanging out with my friends, trying to say i never tossed it out. so trust me, he totes has this coming.

I really got nothing to lose if I get busted since I'm in huggies every night so I'll try out your plan. it works out because he likes to make me get him drinks and snacks.

as for the picture of him once he's back in huggies heh, sure. thanks for the advice and I'll let you know when the plan starts to work.

E-mail sent Alex closed his e-mail and his game tab then went searching online for the best med's to get to reduce his brother to a helpless pants wetting stinker, only to pause after a few minutes recalling that Max had gotten in trouble awhile back for causing a series of messy accidents around school.

'nggggh..no way he'll be back yet though. I'll go and talk to him tomorrow.' Alex thought and set his laptop aside and laid back on his bed, thinking about just how much fun he was gonna have and ended up conking out.

which was unfortunate as he hadn't put on one of his spider-man diapers and with in ten minutes a wet patch was starting to grow on the front of his jogging pants, which while the dark color would hide it, the tan covered blanket he was laying on wouldn't.

"So when do you think we can do this?" Grizz asked.

the movie was basically forgotten but had been kept on to cover up their voices on the off chance Alex came downstairs (Small chance of that) or if their parents came back early.

"Welll that's the tricky part. I have to have all four of the dweebs here AND have my parents gone. they're going on a weekend trip in about 2 weeks though so I'll try and convince the dweeb to get the loser's club all over here." Justin said.

Rayne, who had just shut his mouth like he'd been told to raised his hand like he was in class.

"heh, Yes Rayne?" Justin asked.

"Aren't they into that dice game, Dragons and prison or whatever?" he asked.

"..Dungeons and dragons, yeah." Justin chuckled.

"Same difference. anyways, say you've been reading up on it and wanna try your hand at hosting a game, but just want them over before you embarrasses yourself in front of us.Most nerds I know love to play and will jump at the chance." Rayne said and smiled.

"Sweet fucking cthulhu. Rayne had a good idea." Grizz chuckled and to patted the bigger boys head. "good boy!"

Rayne beamed and was clearly proud of himself and Justin chuckled.

"Ok, I'll just have to learn enough about this nerd stuff to fake it and get them over. you guys will have to be ready to help though, I don't wanna risk one of the losers getting away." Justin said nodding.

"Hey, as long as I don't have to change any shitty asses I'm in." Grizz said.

"Wait, your gonna make them USE the diapers?" Rayne said and then laughed lots. "Gross!"

"Heh, well the best blackmail is a sobbing little brat in a stinky diaper blackmail. no way the dweeb will risk him in all his smelly glory ending up ALL over town."

"Man, I am glad your not MY big brother." Rayne said, never mind the fact Justin was pretty sure if he tried anything on the semi giant he'd be the one in huggies.

"Eh, No worries. you'd be a awesome little bro. Now all we need to do is go and pick the perfect pampers for them."

"Oh, I got it! There's this discount store my mom drags me to because they have her cream of wheat and other junk she likes cheap, but they got in a shipment of over night diapers for big kids, boys and girls. the boys has rockets and stars on them and are blue." Grizz said, setting up the best part.

"Oh, this is gonna be good." Justin smirked.

"the girls has unicorns and rainbows and are pink!" Grizz finished and cackled.

Plans set for his brother's diapered humiliation, the boys finally turned they're attention back to the movie.

After the movie it was getting late and so Justin sent the guys home as technically speaking they weren't suppose to be over, only him or Alex could have friends over for the most part if mom and dad weren't home. (Weekend vacations were the exception, though their folks made it clear the house had been be clean when they got back)

Whoever had their friends over was also suppose to clean up after them and after a chip fight in the living room Justin smirked, knowing he could get Alex to clean the mess up, since it would be Alex and his friend getting blamed for the mess.

Of course Justin usually made Alex clean up after him and his friends anyways but that always took a little bit more effort in the form of using the dorks undies to bounce him like a yo yo if he didn't listen.

He toyed with leaving Alex sulking in their room where he been since the shower and just letting the dweeb get in trouble but since it was Justin's turn to start dinner so it'd be ready and he didn't feel like cooking, he had to get Alex downstairs anyways to be a good little chore bitch.

"This will be SO much easier once I have the blackmail on him." Justin sighed to himself as he made his way up the stairs to the boys shared bedroom.

Opening the door he went to go and say something but was hit by the stench of piss and a quick look confirmed the little bed soaker had gone night night without a pamper on.

"Hey dork face! wake up! you pissed the bed!" Justin said in a loud voice.

"Ngggh a gigi boo..Five more minutes mommy.." the still mostly asleep dweeb said, trying to shoo Justin away.

"heh, baby talk? really? Wow, just when I think you can't lower the bar any more Little bro.. ALEXANDRA! WAKE UP!" Justin said then cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled.

Alex jumped sort in bed then sat up, eyes wide and panting, looking around.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" He growled once he locked eyes on Justin."ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK?!"

"No, but you had a wetting attack dork." Justin said and pointed.

Alex went to say something then looked down and went from pissed off to blushing and tried to cover himself up.

"Ah crap crap crap crap!" Alex whined and got up off the bed.

this was NOT good. not good at ALL! Dad was already riding him on the bed wetting and if he found out Alex had soaked the bed from a little nap he would NOT hear the end of it, or worse, dad would make him wear ALL day tomorrow!

"Ah..ah..Justin big brother who I love ever so much.." Alex started, swallowing and trying to put on his best 'I'm so cute help me' faces.

"Save it dweeb. I'll keep my mouth shut about your little..well BIG accident as long as you go and be a good little chore bitch and get the living room cleaned up and start supper." Justin said and leaned on the door frame, a evil smirk on his face.

Considering his options Alex just hung is head and then did a small nod.

"Butttt to show you I'm not totally heartless..I got some clothes that need to be washed so you can do them and wash your sheet at the same time as a cover up. I know, my kindness knows no bounds. just be thankful mom got you that rubber sheet or you'd be going to sleep in a soggy bed tonight." Justin said and laughed.

'gee he's all heart. letting me do his landry and clean up AND cook.. ' Alex thought but it WAS better then trying to explain the sheet alone.

"Yeah ok.." He said finally and went to strip stripping the bed.

"ah ah ah, what do you say to your kind and wonderful brother for helping you out?" Justin said, milking this for all it was worth.

'He has to be..ok no, I know him better then that.. just keep digging your grave jerk.' Alex thought then took a deep calming breath.

"Thank you for letting me do your landry big brother." he said, clenching a fist.

"Anytime dork. not get to it, you don't have a whole lotta time. my clothes are in the hamper in the bathroom." Justin said and started to walk away, then poked his head back in. "Oh and dweeb? next time don't forget to put on your diapies when your going for your afternoon nap."

and with that he walked off laughing.

"...I'm SO going to enjoy getting him in diapers." Alex huffed.

Changing into a pair of clean spider-man shorts and a captain America t-shirt, Alex got the load of landry started and then went to work cleaning up the living room while keeping a eye on the time.

the chips were everywhere and every time he though he was done he'd spot some more and wondered how much the three bullies had actually managed to get in their stupid fat mouths.

Between the cleaning and getting landry switched over he didn't have time to make anything too special so he went with the old stand by of making macaroni and cheese with hot dogs as it was quick and simple and his parents never really expected Justin to go all out when he was cooking anyways.

Dinner was ready and the landry was finished by the time their parents got home, Alex just had to go and get it out of the dryer but he figured he'd have time to do it stealthy after eating.

"So, what did you boys do for fun today?" Dad asked as they were sitting at the dinner table, a small grimace on his face at the prospect of eating the old stand by.

"Oh well-" Alex started by Justin cut him off.

"It was pretty much same old same old for me, went out and played some football with the guys and had fun. Came back though and I think The twins brought over some super sugar loaded snacks or something because Alex and them where have a chip fight and trashed the living room. it was cute though." Justin said and smirked, winking at Alex who's jaw hung open.

"Alex, you didn't!" Mom signed and shook her head. "After supper you'll be cleaning up the living room!"

"Oh don't worry about it mom, I know little guys like him just need to get it out of their systems. after the twins went home he was super pooped though, think it was a sugar crash so let him go and take a nap and I cleaned up the living room." Justin lied.

"Well that was was nice of you Justin, but in the future leave the cleaning for Alex to do." Dad said and shook his head at Alex. "Alex, we've talked about this."

Alex for his part was stuttering now, trying to think of a way to prove his innocence without getting scolded but first shots had been fired by Justin and there was nothing he could do now.

"Alex did you say thank you to Justin for cleaning up after you?" Mom asked and her tone made it clear if he hadn't she expected him to now, but again Justin spoke up.

"Oh, he's already thanked me for something else. see somebody was just SO sleepy when he went for his nap that he forgot to get his bed wetter pants on and well, Let's just say it's a good thing I had to do a load of landry anyways." Justin said as Alex,'s jaw dropped.

"Y-You said..you.." Alex stammered.

"Alex! what have I told you about not going to sleep without one of your diapers on?" Dad asked in a sharp tone.

"N-Not to do it again or..or.." Alex whined, looking down and feeling ready to cry.

this wasn't fair! he'd done everything Justin had asked him too and he was still gonna get punished!

"Or you'll be spending the next day in your diapers all day. Now I was hoping NOT to have to use that punishment but clearly you've left me no choice. you can still use the potty of course, in fact I encourage it, but you WILL be in diapers all day tomorrow." Dad said.

His tone left no room for argument and feeling hot tears start to slid down his cheeks Alex looked down at his bowl of food and sniffled.

"Yes sir."

After supper Justin offered to do the dishes if Alex would go and get the landry out of the dryer, but mom said since Justin had already cleaned up after Alex, made supper and did the landry for the most part he could go and relax and watch TV with their dad while Alex got the landry out and folded it.

Justin smiled and kissed his mom's cheek and asked if she was sure, but she insisted and so he went and plopped down on the couch, ready to watch some hockey with his dad and giving Alex a shit eating grin as the huffy and tear stained cheek dork started to stomp his way up the steps till dad called for him to knock it off unless he wanted to go to bed early.

'Oh my god. this worked out even better then I could of hoped! Mom and Dad are just too easy!' Justin thought, having to bite his tongue every so often to keep from laughing.

the dweeb had done all the work and yet here he was sipping on pop and munching on chips with their dad while the dork was off folding his undies and was gonna be a crinkle butt the next day.

'It'll be a nice little preview of whats to come.' Justin thought and let out a little chuckle despite himself.

"what's so funny?" Dad asked.

"Oh, just thinking of how silly Alex and his friends looked this after noon. they were like sugar crazed toddlers." Justin lied.

"heh, Next time you should try and get a video of it, I bet it looked cute." Dad chuckled.

Upstairs Alex was mentally cursing up a storm, pissed off and fuming like crazy as he folded pair after pair of his brothers skid marked undies.

'Son of a bitch! son of a bisket eating bitch! I'm not just gonna get him in diapers, I'm gonna make him the biggest dumbest big baby loser of all time! I'm gonna have him in the halls of his school in nothing but huggies and a bib and bonnet!'

of course a small part of Alex knew that going that far likely wasn't gonna be possible, it was a warm thought that helped him keep from just having a melt down fit that would of gotten his bun's blistered and him put to bed before it was even 8 pm.

He should of know better then to think that Justin was gonna hold up his end of the deal, or he should of spoken up about getting the landry done but nope. He'd trusted his big brother and was paying the price for it now in spades.

'And now I have to wear a diaper all day tomorrow..Maybe I'll wait till Monday to go and talk with Max.' Alex thought.

it would mean putting his plans on hold for a bit but he really didn't wanna waddle the block and a half over to Max's with pampers on under his pants.

Finishing up the folding and putting the clothes away Alex checked to make sure that his rubber sheet was dry and tugged in his blanket he'd hung out the window to dry (as it would of taken up too much room in the machines to do Justin's landry too) and with it dry he started to make his bed.

'God, what did I ever do to deserve a asshole like him for a big brother.' Alex whined mentally and finished making his bed, looking it over and then jumping and letting out a girlish shriek as a hand came on his shoulder.

"heh, Relax sweetie, it's mommy." Came his mother voice, sounding a little amused.

"That's ok, I didn't need that heart." Alex huffed, blushing and turning around to face his smirking mother. "what's up mom?"

"Well I wanted to come up and check on how the folding was going and to help you get ready for bed." She said with a smile.

"...Mom it's not even 8 yet, and it's a Saturday night.." Alex said, not liking where this was going.

"Oh You can stay up and everything till 11 like normal, but I just wanna make sure you don't conk out with your 'special armor' on." she said, using finger quotes.

"Mom I think I'm quite capable of putting my own diaper on." Alex huffed, feeling a hot blush cover his face.

"And yet you soaked your bed earlier." She cheerfully pointed out.

"T-That was different, I was just all tired and didn't realize I'd be conking out!" Alex whined, sounding more like a fussy toddler the the big kid he was trying to be.

"I know sweetie, but it kinda goes with my point. what if you just conk out again tonight? do you really wanna have to go to school on Monday in a diaper?" She asked, and the ruffled his hair.

The mental image of it stopped Alex's whining in it's tracks, picturing himself in a bib and spider-man diaper and sucking on a paci in the halls.

"No way! I'd Dieeeee!" Alex whined and shook his head no A LOT.

"well then let mommy help you out. And also if your gonna keep being so tired maybe we'll lower your bedtime for awhile." She added, then smirked and winced at the glare Alex gave her. "Now now, no using your super pouty powers on family."

"Moooom!" Alex huffed but resigned himself to his fate, when she got like this there was no getting her to back down.

He reached under his bed and pulled out his pack of spider-man diapers and noted that he was running low, and started to tug down his shorts when mom spoke up.

"Oh Alex, before we get your in your bed time diaper, do you have to use the potty?"

"mom, I know I wet the bed but I THINK I would know if had to take a leak or a dump you kn-" Alex started and then there was a loud 10 second poot out of his bottom and his tummy was gurgling.

"You were saying?" Mom asked, holding her nose but smirking."

"I-I'll be back.." Alex said in a small voice, blushing SO bad as he went past her he was shocked his hair hadn't caught on fire.

As she watched him go and had to fight the urge laugh, the little guy's undies had a fresh skid mark appearing on the back.

'Maybe I should look into getting him some of those washable training pants.' She mused.

One trip to the potty later and with Alex realizing what's he'd almost done in his undies, and the fight was all out of the little guy at least for the moment.

Zero fight was put up as he let his mom take his shorts and briefs and then proceed to diaper him, numbly just going along with her requests of butt up and the like.

"Are you sure your feeling alright? Maybe I should of checked your temperature before getting the diaper on." Mom asked, putting a hand to Alex's forehead.

"N-No I'm fine..just I dunno, Tired." Alex said, wincing.

he had to be the only boy his age to still get his temperature checked via the back door and it's wasn't that fun of a experience.

"Hmmm I think somebody better lay off of the sweets for awhile if it leaves you JUST drained after." Mom said and then started to tug Alex's blanket up on him.

"M-Mom what are you doing?" Alex whined, looking at the clock, it was 7:51 PM!

"I think you've had a big day, and your just not feeling that good. it would explain all the huffing and whining too. if you be a good boy and go night night for me now I'll see what I can do to get your father to back off with the all day diaper punishment tomorrow. I have to take you shopping for more diapers anyways with you almost being out and you get embarrassed enough as is when your in your undies."

Alex whined and whimpered a little but after a few seconds just signed and nodded.

"Good boy." She said and leaned down, kissing his forehead and then went and got one of his stuffie style Avengers from their display shelf and handed him Thor.

Lacking the energy to fight back Alex just took the offered stuffie and snuggled into it as his mom turned off the lights in the room and paused at the doorway.

"Night night little guy. Mommy will leave the door open a crack for you so you don't get scared. Love you and see you in the morning." She coo'ed/

"..Love you too mommy." Alex said, blushing.

He hadn't been scared of the door in like ages but somehow mom had the impression he still was and the only reason he wouldn't accept a night light was Justin would complain.

She left the little guy to go to sleep and Alex listened to her footsteps.

'This is bull shit. I'm not some little baby! I bet I don't even fall asleep till 11 anyways.' He huffed, crinkling and squirming in his bed.

Five minutes later he was snoring softly around his thumb as he sucked it in his sleep.

"So did Alex give you much of a fight?" Justin asked as Mom came downstairs.

"Just a token one, he's already gone to bed. I don't think he's feeling well and I think that should excuse him for needing his punishment tomorrow." Anne said, though the last part was more directed at her husband.

"Look, rules are rules, and if we start g-" Jackson started but was cut off.

"Excuse me, but who's idea was the rule that a D or worse meant no TV or computer time, and yet Justin who got a D on his last English test is watching the game with you?" She asked sweetly.

Justin gulped now and turned to his dad.

"Uh..you know..I think mom's right, we can't punish Alex if he had his accident because he's sick!" Justin chimed in.

"Heh, Nice try buddy but your mother is right in a way. I can't really punish your brother and not punish you. "Jackson said

"Soooo Alex isn't wearing a diaper tomorrow?" Justin asked hopefully.

"try again buddy, but do it in anther room so I can finish watching the game." Jackson chuckled and ruffled his sons hair as the 12 year old pouted.

"Finnne, I'll just go to my room an-." he started to huff and went to get up.

"ahhh nope. First of all I know you well enough you'll just go on your laptop." Anne said. "and second of all your brother is sleeping. Don't worry though, we have LOTS of board games you can play with me."

"Geee, spending Saturday night playing board games with my mom. aren't I lucky." Justin groaned

One mind numbing night of games later and Justin went to bed, taking note of the fact that Alex had semi drenched his pillow in drool and was still sucking his thumb.

'Heh, He's kinda cute...Still gonna make him a big dumb diaper nerd chore boy..but he's cute.' Justin thought before going and climbing into his bed.

as he went to go to sleep he had the most wonderful evil idea that could at the same time be played off as just being a nice big brother and help get 'revenge' on Alex for making him miss the end of the game.

'Hehehehe damn I'm so smart!' Justin chuckled and dropped off to sleep.

32 notes · View notes