#yes okay johnny also dyed his hair

[avengerscompound]

Johnny Storm and Clint Barton both thought a mustache was enough to hide their identities.

FANTASTIC FOUR (2022) #3 by Ryan North & Iban Coello Blood Hunters (2024) #1 by Mark Russel & Bob Quinn

[shadow4-1]

“Dying alone.” You hummed, running the brush through your horse’s hair. “Y’know, it’s been weighing on me.”

Price huffed out a soft breath and nuzzled his graying muzzle against your palm. You smiled at him, rubbing your knuckles over the soft fuzz of his snout. When you’d first got him he’d been a young workhorse too ornery for any ranch hand in the county. After doing some research, you figured out he was a European breed, one not meant for the rough hands of your fellow Americans. You’d gotten him cheap, and yet his training came at a ‘price’. It took awhile for you to learn his ins an outs but he quickly grew to become your favorite - as well as your oldest. He was the first member of your ranch after all.

“I’ve never wanted to look for a man. They’re so gross, Price.” You sighed, working a few tangles out of his short, dark mane. “They always say they want me for me, but really they just want the ranch.”

There was a short bark from the door of the barn. A black and white, muscular dog stood waiting for your command. You tsked at him and he slowly came trotting up to you, head low to the ground in a submissive posture. The closer he came, the more you noticed the white fur surrounding his eyes and snout - starting to gray like Price’s.

“C’mere Ghost.” You hummed.

The dog obliged and pressed the top of his head into your hand. Ghost was such a mutt. You’d picked him up as a pup from a mean roadside vendor. If you had to guess, he had some kind of German Shepherd in him. Maybe some Rottweiler or Pit Bull? You couldn’t be sure. But what you did know, is that -

“Aw, look at my best boy! You’re my best boy!” You baby talked, squishing his chunky face. Ghost just licked his lips in indignation but made no move to escape your hold. Price snorted loudly and pawed at the ground, upset that you stopped brushing his mane.

“Okay okay. I get it.” You laughed. “Let me just finish up here!”

-

There wasn’t any field tending that needed to be done, so you sent Price off to the fenced in pasture. Despite his age, he kicked up dirt and pranced about in delight. You smiled at the old horse before heading back to the barn. Ghost sat patiently outside, his metal tags glinting in the sunlight.

“Okay, boy. Show time.”

And just like that, all hell seemed to break loose. Ghost ran into the barn and started to bark. While usually subdued, this time his bark was loud and mighty. The sheep and cows stirred in their pens. The chickens squawked from their roosts. You threw open the barn with a mighty heave. And just like that, the animals were also let out into the fenced pasture.

The cows bounded out happily, their bells clanging. Then came the half dozen sheep and their young lambs, followed by a dozen assorted chickens. You sprinkled chicken feed and enjoyed the morning mayhem. A rooster made himself known from the pack by standing up straight, puffing out his chest, and crowing with so much might you thought he might hurt himself. You poured a bit of feed in your hand before crouching down.

“Here Johnny, Johnny.” You giggled, shaking your hand.

The large rooster strutted up to you with absolutely no fear. He ruffled his feathers and clucked at you before eating the feed right out of your hand. When he was done, he let you pet him. If you wanted to pick him up, you easily could’ve. Most mornings you spent with him on your hip. Despite how amazing of a rooster he was, he never got violent with you. Now, any other hired help, it was a different story. Come to think of it, none of your animals really worked for anyone else but you.

“Sorry Johnny.” You sighed, standing up and taking a step back. “Gotta trim-woah!”

Something hard nudged firmly against your rear. You regained your balance and looked behind you.

“Kyle!” You scolded. “Yes, yes! You’re going out to the pasture too!”

The large billy goat bleated at you and rubbed the top of his de-horned head against your hip, as if to scratch himself on your belt. With a soft pat to his head, you lead him through the pasture and farther into the green grass. It took him a minute, but after taking a glance at Price on the other end of the field, he began to run towards him. The two creatures met in the middle and began to play.

You weren’t entirely sure why those two got along so well, but they certainly did. Price playfully nipped at Kyle’s short tail. Kyle just bleated in excitement and tried to ram his head into the old horse’s leg. They were a funny little duo, that was certain.

And with that, you began to finish up your morning chores. You collected the eggs and the fresh milk from the gallon jugs in the barn. You cleaned up the stalls and polished Price’s riding tack. Once you made sure everyone had fresh food and water you decided to go inside and clean up. Today was an easy day. All you would be responsible for was to bring the animals back in as well as feed yourself.

You showered, dressed in a flowy white sundress, and headed outside. You sat out in the pasture, under the shade of the old oak tree and your floppy sun hat. This day was like no other. After enjoying a bowl of fruit and a glass of iced tea it didn’t take long for you to doze off in your favorite lawn chair.

-

You dreamed that you were taking Price back to the stables after a good ride around the ranch. It was late, and the southern heat was oppressive. You wiped the sweat off Price’s back with an old towel as your removed his tack.

“Y’know. Despite your age, y’ still give a girl a great ride.” You chuckled at the old horse. You rubbed his snout. He snorted at you and you giggled. “You have no clue what I’m talking about.”

With another laugh, you turned to the stall's gate. You opened it just enough to reach to the built in shelf next to it. You dug your hand into a small box and swiped a handful of sugar cubes from within it. You turned, hand outstretched to offer it to Price. Except, when you turned, there was no longer a horse.

Standing there, completely nude, was a human man.

You gasped in shock and took a step back, hitting the edge of the stall’s wall. He took a step forward, blue eyes glittering. He eyed the sugar cubes you now clutched tightly in your palm. He reached forward, prying them from your grip, before hungrily tossing them into his mouth. He ate them with no discomfort and even smiled as he swallowed them down.

“Thanks, Love.” He licked his lips, remnants of the glittery sugar still caught in his mustache.

“P-Price?” You squeaked.

“Who else would it be?”

You had half a mind to run, but you were so enamored with the thought that your precious horse could be a human. He stepped even farther forward, boxing you into the corner of the wooden stall. Your head hit the wall, making the various items hung up shudder from the impact. Price unhooked one of the ancient reins away from the top of your head before dropping it into the fresh hay at your feet. He admired his hands for a second and so did you.

“I-you-wh-what is going on?” You managed out. “This is some kind of joke, right?”

Price didn’t seem to hear you as he tried to get a feel for his own body. You watched in shock and arousal as he flexed his arm muscles and observed the firm ripples of his own chiseled abdomen. He petted down his belly and admired the thick curls that trailed over his cock. He gripped at it, tugged at it experimentally before seeming to realize something important.

“Ready for that ride, Love?”

[bvbygrl-writes]

Wash Day (Johnnie Guilbert x Black!Reader)

A/N: I had a dream about this last night so I gotta write it even though this probably will not resonate with a lot of people, idk how much of Johnnie's fanbase is black but if I exist there's gotta be more of us!

Word Count: 1.3k

It was that dreaded day that almost every black girl hated, Wash Day, and (Y/n) was no exception. People thought because she had locs that that made wash day less of a stressful problem due to the frequency she had to wash her hair. And why yes, locs were convenient for day to day life as all she had to do was mist her shit and go, wash day was not any less stressful for her. 

After years of growing out her hair and keeping it natural, she had finally taken the steps to loc it and from the beginning, she had been the one in charge of her loc journey. She started them herself, dyed them herself, and did every retwist and style by herself (along with help from youtube of course). But she was tired and what do you do when you’re tired? Get your man to do it for you! Walking down the hallway, her freshly washed hair tossed up into an old and raggedy t-shirt, she busted through the bedroom door. 

Johnnie was used to her antics at this point, barely budging from his spot on the bed. His blue eyes peered up to look at her, eyes focusing on the t-shirt on the top of her head. “Ran out of towels?” he asked, confused. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at him, walking over to the drawer (that was formerly for Johnnie’s t-shirts) and started to pull out all the products she needed for her hair. Metal clips, gel, ponytail holders, that ratty black comb for her roots, spray bottle with the combination of oils and conditions that worked for her hair, and oil for her scalp.

“Cotton shirts are better for your hair. You should probably switch to them too since white men tend to bald prematurely.” she quipped, peeking over her shoulder to smile at him. He laughed at her sass, shaking his head as he kicked his legs over to the side of the bed to face her. “You busy?”

“Not necessarily, I already filmed and edited my video for tomorrow. Why?” she hummed at his response, pondering for a moment before dropping all the hair on the bed next to him. Dropping the towel from her body and ignoring the feeling of the long stare on her backside, she grabbed one of Johnnie’s shirts and a pair of gray gym shorts. It didn’t matter to either of them that his shirts clung to her body, leaving little to the imagination, spots of the already dark shirt growing a bit darker from her wet skin.

“If I teach you how to do my hair, will you do it for me?” she asked, removing the soaked shirt from her head and tossing it into a random corner of the room. Johnnie froze, body stiffening up a bit. He had years and years of doing his own hair, dying it and cutting it since he was 13. Hell, he had even helped some of his friends with their own but never had he done anything with hair of (Y/n)’s texture, let alone locs. From what she had told him, locs could handle a lot but they can also be quite tedious and in some cases even be more fragile.And she had lovely ones, they were healthy, shiny, and reached just beyond her shoulders. He had watched his girlfriend style her locs into intricate styles, the hours it’d take her, and how tired she’d be afterwards.She never let anyone do it but herself, saying she didn’t trust anyone to not ‘mess her shit up’.  What if he- “You’re not going to fuck it up, don’t worry. Imma walk you through it all, okay?” she said, stroking his cheek gently, the tip of her acrylic thumbnail lightly dragging across his cheek.

“Babe, I don’t know…”

“Pleaseee? Pleaseee? PLEASEEE?”

He sighed, walking behind the chair she had pulled in front of the bed, patting the headrest. “Fine, fine. Only if I can control the music.”

(Y/n) had taken 2ponytail holders, sectioning off the middle and front of her head, leaving the back down. “Okay, you see how my roots are kind of stuck together almost? What Imma need you to do first is gently pull them apart so we can have clean parts.” she instructed, demonstrating herself. Although she couldn’t see his face, she could tell by his silence that he was watching her intensely. 

And she was right, with his lip pulled between his teeth, he watched the movements of her skilled hands. He nervously lifted his hands to the back of her head, grabbing two locs like he had seen her do. “Like this?” he asked, pulling a lot softer than she had instructed. She giggled some, leaning her head back to look at him.

“You gone have to pull it a bit harder than that, baby. You’re not gonna hurt me. Trust me, I’ll let you know if you were.” she reassured, readjusting her head. He nodded at her words, pulling and massaging at the connected roots, celebrating silently as the parts formed a clean line. “There ya go! Now, take some of that gel, and put it around the base of the loc and a little on the root. We do that so the retwist will hold and help the roots loc but also so it’ll be neat.” she said, demonstrating what to do. “Then, you’re gonna take the comb and run it through the root a little bit, use the edge to smooth it out, and then roll it in your hands like this.” he made a small noise of amazement as her hands rolled the loc between her palms. He knew she put a lot of work into her hair, but never did he realize exactly how much was going into it. That explains all the times he’d find her passed out on the couch, products scattered all along the floor and table. 

“I never realized how much you had to do. I wish you would’ve told me sooner. I would’ve loved to help you out.” he said softly. Her heart soared at his words.

“It’s okay. This is only one row out of a shit ton more so let’s get through this!”

The sun had begun to set as they got to the front of (Y/n)’s head.Johnnie’s nerves had gone down a lot with (Y/n)’s constant encouragement and all of her jokes and by the time he got to the last row of the back, he felt like he was a pro!  All the metal clips jingled as she turned the chair to face him, figuring it’d be better that way for him to get the front done. (Y/n) watched her lover’s face, a soft smile on her own at how focused he was. His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he misted her hair. Leaning forward, she softly planted a kiss on his lips which he gladly reciprocated. It was short and sweet, full of appreciation for him helping her out. “Thank you, Johnnie.” she said softly.

“It was my pleasure, really. I’m glad you trust me enough to help you out. Plus, I’m a high school drop out. I’ll need another career option after Youtube dies.” he joked, causing them both to laugh at the thought of him as an emo loctician. “Annnd I’m done. What’do you think?” he asked.

Standing up, (Y/n) stretched, groaning as her body snapped, crackled, and popped from how long she had been sitting. Turning around, she looked in the mirror gasping a happy smile taking over her face. Johnnie had done an amazing job despite never doing anything of the sort. He watched happily as his girlfriend twirled around, admiring his work from all the different angles. The clips were still on, but you could still see from the preview that it was going to look great when it dried. Lunging forward, she threw herself into his arms, causing him to fall backward onto the bed. He made an ‘oof’ but reciprocated, wrapping his pale arms around her, burying his face in her neck, heart racing at the scent of shea butter and vanilla.

“You did so good!”

“Put your bonnet on before you mess it up!”

[rottingpirate]

if this is kinda morbid and makes u uncomfy feel free to ignore but here i go: theres this news report about a florida man getting accidentally shot in the head by his wife, but he survived, the bullet lodged behind his ear and only felt a bad headache. now i was wondering how the 141 would handle a situation like that (only the getting shot in the head and not even realizing it part) w/ the reader and him being unaware

IF THIS IS TOO MUCH i apologize again lmao😭

Bro I really had to look this up. Florida is a fever dream frfr.

Also I was hella confused if you meant them or the reader getting shot. So this time it's gonna be them ig. Also it's kinda rushed-

Price

Price started complaining about a headache that wouldn't leave him alone.

You freeze when you see red, sticky liquid near his ear

I mean, it was confusing, like was he shot? There didn't appear much blood, but wh- how- dude- stop-

When he notices you staring his smile falters as he asks what's wrong

When you take him to the nurse

She just looks at him and confirms what you though. He was shot.

Even he was taken aback. When and how and why did he get shot and didn't notice??

You just wondered as to how was he this careless

He knows you well, so when he sees your worried expression he convinces you that he's okay.

You sat by his side highkey judging him for not knowing how he got shot in the head

Ghost

Bro came back after a mission with a huge headache, like he thought his head was gonna explode or something

He didn't think much of it and just went to bed after taking painkillers

He didn't sleep that night and only layed there with throbbing pain in his head

He removed his mask, hoping maybe that would help, but no-

He decided to ask you for help

You being tired and not in the mood, took him to the nurse

He said he's fine the entire way there

The nurse just looked at him like  🤨

Moment of silence for him to process.

Huh?

You know this is a serious situation, but it's kinda hilarious ngl

You found his expression entertaining to say the least

Soap

He comes to cuddle you after complaining about a headache

At first you don't think nothing of it, but then you feel something warm and sticky near his ear after playing with his hair

Umm...Johnny, why you bleeding?

...

He's thrown off balance

Like he accidentally got shot by Gaz after having a play fight with him and now he's dying??

Rushed him to the doctor who already deals with him and his stupid injuries every other day so he's not that surprised by it

Weird that he didn't feel anything though

Always fully examine him after missions and play fights

Won't trust Gaz for the next two weeks

Gaz

You don't have time for this, as thoughts began to stir up your head

You examine his head and sure enough there's a little bloody bullet hole behind his ear

Panic flashes through both of yalls eyes

You take him to the doctor not knowing whether to be mad or to laugh

He freaks out, starts planning his funeral

Tells everyone in 141 how much he loves them

He acts all dramatic and shit

I could've died and you're laughing???

Yes, indeed you are laughing at his pure stupidity

How could he be so careless?

Don't lose sight of him during missions ever again

[fortheunsungheros]

Out of curiosity- How much do you know abt ur fav character in The Outsiders?? My fav is Dallas, who was the sixth character to be introduced by pony in the book- hence my blog name lol

Dally’s full name was Dallas Tucker Winston (as we know)

was 17 (also as we know) and died just two months short of his birthday, which is November 9th, meaning the book begins in September on a Friday

got his disc memorized- you know the drill with him so I’ll keep it shortish: described as tow-headed with an elvish face, with high cheekbones and a sharp chin, small sharp animal like teeth and ears like a lynx, his hair was almost white it was so long, but he didn’t like haircuts or hairpins either so it went over his forehead in wisps and kicked out in the back in tufts along the nape of his neck and curled behind his ears. The shade difference between a greaser and a hood wasn’t present in Dally, he was a wild as a brumly boys, like Tim Shepard’s gang. He had pale icy blue eyes, cold with a hatred for the whole world- he didn’t have anything specific to hate. (So much for short- Read it 217 times since 7th grade)

gave pony the letter from soda and didn’t want to get beat tf up by Darry for giving pony the money and the gun

bought pony and Johnny food at Darry Queen :D

he showed up to the rumble with his arm burnt tf up and fought anyhow

Took Ponyboy to see Johnny because he knew he was dying in the hospital and wanted pony to seem him one last time too

he was born in 1948- since the book was finished in ‘65, I just subtracted 17 from there- so he would’ve been 76 this year :,(

on a lighter note, S.E. Hinton confirmed that he was most likely out of the gang to be scared of spiders- had me rolling 🤣

Lmao it got to the point where I gaslit myself into thinking he lived and Johnny lived based on a fic I read years ago and when I reread it this past month my whole reality with him shattered- please send help I can’t be the only one obsessed with a character to this degree🫠

Wow I think you’re more obsessed with this book than me 😭 HOW HAVE YOU READ IT 217 TIMES? I’m on my 3rd reread in the past 8 months or so.

But seriously wow! I’m glad I found someone who is as obsessed - if not more than me lol. Dallas is probably my 3rd favorite character (ik don’t come and find me lol) behind 2. Johnny and 1. Darry

Darry has always been my favorite character ever since I read the book for the first time. He just stuck out to me and I love his character so much. He also is played by Patrick Swayze and he is the finest man to ever walk the earth sooo. (Like seriously I’m obsessed with this man I’ve watched almost every movie he’s in please send help)

Even though Darry’s my favorite character I don’t know everything about him off hand lol. I’m just gonna make a list of everything I know off the top of my head about my favorite character (yes out of every book I’ve read he’s my favorite character, secondly being Katniss Everdeen if you would like to know lol)

• He’s 20 years old

• His full name is Darrel Shayne Curtis Jr (I say this at least twice a day idk don’t ask why)

• Don’t quote me on this but I think he was introduced last in the book

• He works as a roof repair man person

• His birthday is January 5th

• He’s the oldest brother (obviously)

• He is said to not be a greaser if it weren’t for his brothers and the rest of the gang

• Darry was a MESS when Johnny and Pony were at the church (DARREL STAYS UP ALL NIGHT LONG, TILL HE FINALLY FALLS ASLEEP BY THE TELEPHONEEE - Sodas Letter from the musical)

• Also he was the football captain in high school and was voted boy of the year

• Don’t ask me how I know this offhand (I need a hobby) but in the book Darry is one of the tallest if not the tallest greaser but Patrick Swayze isn’t crazy tall so in some of the photos you can see him standing on bricks to make him look taller lol

Okay that’s all I remember right now but I know more will come to me later lol. And also I sincerely believe also that the events in the book are fictional (well no shit) but like FICTIONAL in a FICTIONAL way. Like Ponyboy definitely just needed a good grade so made up a bs story lmao. I really have tricked myself into thinking both Johnny and Dally are alive and well and the gang is still partying in Tulsa.

ALSO thank you for this ask it was really fun to do!

[lilpumkin]

doyoung - nct 🪷

fluff

———

"but baby you have to come" you were giggling because of doyoungs whining. "doyoung, ask taeyong first" "TY can y/n come?... he said yes, so please" "okay okay, be there in a bit, love you" "love you too"

for some reason, your boyfriend was wanting you to come to the photo shoot since they were shooting for their new album release.

as you mildly attempted to get ready, you kept on your sweats and t-shirt, pulled your hair into a low loose bun, and walked out the door.

you made it to the studio in a matter of minutes and walked into the shooting area. "hi guys" "hey y/n" they all said in unison. "doyoung is getting his outfit rn" "thanks TY" as you make your way back to his dressing room you knock on the door.

"come in" "hi baby, whatcha gonna wear?" as soon as he heard your voice he spun around and ran over to hug you "hi" he pecked your lips and then showed a gummy smile. "hi...okay, show me what your gonna wear"

"oooo, I like it, hurry up and get changed I don't want to put you behind schedule." he pecked your lips once more before you left to talk to the other members. once you walked back out to the shooting area, you found a couch to sit on while waiting on the others to finish changing.

jongwoo: hi y/n

y/n: hey, I really like the concept fits for this shoot

jongwoo: me too. did doyoung really drag you out here?"

y/n: haha yeah he did

you and jungwoo decided to catch up a bit since you haven't seen any of the members due to the busy schedule. soon the rest of the members came out.

you are the closest with jungwoo out of the group asides from your boyfriend. but you both start dying when johnny came out. johnny looked at you both with a confused expression.

johnny: are you guys ok?

you and jungwoo already knew that you were thinking the same thing.

jungwoo: hyung... are you ever gonna find a shirt?

with jungwoo toppled over himself, you tried forming a sentence which partially came out

y/n: johnny I swear every comeback- you never have a shirt

a/n: you know, just in case y'all forgot🙈

now both you and jongwoo are rolled up on the floor. jonny rolls his eyes and walks away with a smirk on his face. finally doyoung comes out and finds you still giggling to yourself, you manage to point to johnny and doyoung covers your eyes.

"eyes for me only princess" "obviously but why can nobody give johnny a shirt every comeback" you manage to get a little giggle out of doyoung.

soon the photo shoot started and they started with solo shots which gave you and doyoung a little time to yourself. you and doyoung were cuddling on the couch and listening to music when they had to pull him off of you.

you saw your boyfriend start shooting and he looked so damn good doing it. he caught you staring so he took the opportunity to wink at you which of course made you blush.

the photo shoot ended faster than expected. the boys congregated towards the couch that you never left, and start coming up with dinner ideas. you all decide on this small eatery on the way back toward your apartment.

while you guys were eating doyoung slid subtle flirty hints to you while keeping his hand towards your inner thigh.

while the others were also caught up in conversation, doyoung whispered into your ear gently, "let's go, baby, I wanna spend some time alone with you" "mm, okay"

you and doyoung managed to slip out the eatery in one piece and with no questions asked. it was only a 15 minute drive back.

the short but silent drive back was peace. there wasn't any awkward silence, you were both comfortable with each others company.

when you arrived at your apartment, you both walked inside and plopped down on the couch. you realized that you had to do some work on your laptop, you so went back into your room to find you laptop. "doyoung" "yes princess" "i may or may have not have forgotten i had to finish up so work on my laptop, are you ok if i finish my work while we watch a movie, you can pick" "of course love, come out here" "i'm sorry that i have to finish it, i was working on it before i came to see you earlier"

while doyoung sat on the couch, you sat in between his legs on the floor. you tried to finish as fast as you could, which you were able to finish with in 2 hours.

while you started to put your work things away, you realized that doyoung was asleep. after you finished getting ready for bed, you decided to fill up your water bottle. you felt 2 arms wrap around your waist and a head in the crook of your neck "baby, you know you can get in bed right?" "yeah but i wanted to wait for you princess" you could tell that he was tired. "come on let's go"

as you set your water bottle on you bed side table you catch a glimpse of doyoungs zombie walk and then tosses him self on to the bed dragging you down with him.

"can you pay attention to me now?" you let out a small laugh "always"

as you drift into a deep sleep doyoung snuggles up into your neck again and you both sleep peacefully.

————————————

next morning

you find that your boyfriend is still laying on top of you, but when you try to get up you get dragged back down and with that a husky voice appears "mmm... don't leave me... i think we should here today" "but i have to go to work babe" "mm, no. you don't get to go, we're staying here" "whatever you say doyoung" you giggled a bit and sat you a bit.

"i think we should watch a movie"

"anything for you princess"

[certifiedalastorsimp]

Jake x Johnnie x Reader

Smut! MDNI! This was requested by @vincentwillowz

——————————————————————————

You who had just woke up you realized you had to get ready because you had to help film a music video with Jake and Johnnie. You didn’t know what you had to do in the video. You got into the shower and got dressed. You put in a black crop top with an Angel wing pattern on it. You know that Johnnie and Jake liked that shirt because they complemented it. Then you put on olive green baggy cargo pants. Then a pair of the signature black high top converse. Then with your hair you just kept it down and curly/straight (depending on your natural hair type) your hair was black and you had blonde highlights at the front. It is newly dyed you just got it down yesterday. For your makeup you had blended out black eyeshadow and eyeliner under your eyes and a small thick wing. Then put chapstick on. You then looked at the time. 10:00 “just in time.” You got in the car and headed your way over to the filming place. As you got closer your heart was beating. You were very nervous. When you reached the place you got out of the car and locked the car and then walked in. The first person you found was Johnnie. He came over and greater you. “Hey Y/N! How are you?” He said “I’m okay just a little nervous that’s all.” “Don’t be. But come with me Jake’s over here.” You walked with him and found Jake. Jake gave you a hug and then you guys just sit there and talk. Then it was time to go film. You had to sit in the back for a few minutes till you had to go out. All they told you that you needed to do was just stand in the middle of the room looking up. You got the signal from Johnnie to get in place. So you did you did as told. You went in the middle of the room and looked up. As you did you felt Jake in the back and Johnnie went in the front. You were getting squished. You were not uncomfortable at all. Although you felt Jake grinding on you he was hard. You looked at Johnnie and he was hard as well. Your face was beat red. “Hey how about we take a few minutes then go back to filming?” Jake said. Everyone agreed. They brought you to a room with a lock. Jake locked the door and then held you by your waist. “Can we please just do this?” Jake said. “Yes.” You said. Jake kissed your lips. Johnnie looked like he didn’t know what to do. Jake started to take your shirt off. You’re blushing even more. Johnnie sat down you could she the tent in his pants. You helped Jake undress you you were naked. Jake then took his clothes off. You walked over to Johnnie sitting on his lap and kissing him. He kissed you back. It was amazing the best kiss you feel you ever had. You got off of him and he took his clothes off you all were naked. You looked at both of them and then Jake said. “Get down.” You got down on your knees and Jake came over and put his dick in front of you. You started doing a hand job then started to suck him off. Johnnie started to jerk himself off from the view. When you were sucking his dick you started slow then went faster. “Fuck…” Jake said. “You’re so hot with my dick in your mouth. I’m close.” You looked up at him when he said that and he then released. “Swallow.” He said so you did. Your mind went on Johnnie now. You looked at Johnnie and you went over to him and started to suck him off. He put his hand on the back of your head and pushed your head down gently hoping not to hurt you. “Y/N…” He said while laying his head back. He then finished you also swallowed it. You kissed both of them then you were interrupted by somebody knocking on the door. “Guys we have to get to filming again!”

——————————————————————————

I hope you guys like this. It’s my first post and my first smut I am still taking requests. Sorry for any mistakes.

[tartaruga-cosmica]

The homies are making V profiles. Here’s ma boi

Name: Vincent Yael Zircon, always told people his last name was Welles, though. Only goes by V, he does not like it at all when people call him Vincent. Netrunner Tag: V3nus Gender: male (he/him) Age: 27 Life Path: Corpo Affiliation: Moxes (formerly), Afterlife (post-game) Sexuality: Bisexual Personality: V is kindhearted first and foremost. His main interest is to make life better for his friends, himself, and the people who he considers family, because he knows he can’t help everyone in need. Doesn’t stop him from trying when the opportunity arises. He doesn’t take gigs that go against his moral compass and ideals, and he never kills without a reason. After getting roped into Arasaka due to a university program, he instantly went after his obsession with cyberware, netrunning and technology in general, getting fully chromed up. After the falling out with ‘Saka, he didn’t hold much of a grudge, only glad that he got stopped from becoming one of those cold, greedy bastards. He thinks Johnny shouldn’t be as hard on every single corpo he sees, because at the end of the day, most of them are just office workers. The people pulling the strings should rot in hell, though - that’s what they agree on. Johnny and him get along well, mostly because V is a forgiving man with a positive mindset, yet not afraid to tell Johnny he should crawl out of his own ass and shut his stupid mouth sometimes. He does not blame Johnny for his potential death, but rather looks to him for comfort on particularly bad days. He never accepted that he might die, and he never will accept it either. During the events of the game, he wants nothing more than to survive - but without the help of Arasaka. Facts: Being obsessed with high-end cyberware, V only has the best of the best. He lost most of his right arm while working in counter-intel at ‘Saka and chose to replace it with something fashionable rather than deceivingly realistic, he likes his tech to be visible. Hence the rather ominous red LED eyes with their black frames. Mostly fights with an electric monowire and enhanced combat knives. Also Archangel, he uses her nigh religiously. His hair is black naturally, but he dyed parts of it red and pink in his time with the Moxes and never went back to a solid color. Yes, that is cyberware matching Kerry’s in midnight blue with sparkly stars. But he got permission for it. They’re married it’s okay guys He did fancy Panam for a very brief while before Johnny unfortunately dragged him to Kerry’s house and the poor guy fell head over heels. He has a thing for arson and guns :( Huge loser nerd when it comes to physics, tech, engineering and space, and he incorporates it into his aesthetic whenever possible. The Star ending is his canon ending. (He’s fine and everything is okay and nobody dies and Kerry doesn’t leave him everyone shut up I’m not crying YOU’RE crying!!)

[biitchcakes]

@revenantinflames // continued from ( x )

There was a scream from a civilian below. Kicking one of the creatures off the roof they were battling on top of, Jessica ran to the edge, following the horrified stares of the scattered people in the streets. A few miles above the city, a tiny dot in the sky was in rapid free-fall. Jess knew that tiny dot. Her heart punched down to her gut, a tonne of bricks collapsing down, crushing her.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck, ohshit ―

It would take maybe two minutes for Johnny to hit the pavement. She had to time this perfectly ― the wind, his speed, her speed, her gliders were only able to go so fast. It wasn't the first time she was in this position; though when she'd rescued Carol, she was young, somehow more reckless than she was now, and she'd just jumped. She should be more methodical here.

The world around her came to stop, everything around her seemingly freezing in time as she raced towards him. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck ―

!!!

She couldn't wait any longer, instinct taking over any sort of calculating she was attempting. She leapt between the close towers, apartments, offices. . . Jess landed on the rooftops, and clung to the walls, crawling her way higher and higher until ―

〝 Gotcha ! 〞 She snatched him from the air, both of them landing on the top of a building, hidden behind some billboard. Cradling him in her arms, Jess asked Johnny if he could hear her, her available hand stroking his cheek. His skin was so much colder than she'd expected. And clammy. . . It wasn't long before she noticed he was rapidly warming up again.

A wave of relief washed over her when his eyes opened, even if only a little. She pressed her lips to his forehead at his slurred speech, melting over his relieved sigh.

Turning her eyes to the skies, she saw not even a trace of whatever the fuck those things were. Still holding him close to her chest, she pivoted slightly the check the streets ― nothing. The only creatures in sight were seemingly dead, and she figured the rest had retreated. A problem for another day, for now, the only concern on her mind was Johnny's wellbeing.

〝 Yes ― yeah. You did fantastic, babe.〞 She clutched him tighter. It was true, she was impressed by him, proud of him, (and found it oddly attractive ??? ). Add that to the list of things to mention if she ever sought out therapy.〝 Don't do it again though, okay ? Like, ever, actually.〞 Adrenaline was still pumping through her, but it was dying down now, being replaced with the horror of what could have been had she missed him. She didn't even know what he did, her attention focused instead on the. . . beast-thing she'd been fighting. It made her feel guilty, that maybe had someone not screamed. . .

Burying her face in his hair, Jessica inhaled deeply; a combined scent of ash, smoke and butane punched at inside of her nose. What she smelled wasn't surface level ― it was Johnny, usually subtle, now instead amplified a million times over. Over the past few months, she'd grown pretty fond of it, but it'd never been so. . . overwhelming before.

But, also, she'd never been happier to smell those smells.

Moments later, she carefully got to work checking him over for wounds, tenderly bending his body in whichever way she deemed necessary ― unable to refrain from pausing every couple of seconds to kiss a different portion of his face.

[timaeusterrored]

Hi, it's me again, back on my bs.So this is for the very extensive ask meme.

2, 5, 7, 15 to 27, 36, and 43. For Vax. Or Vincent.

Whomever you choose and whichever questions you choose to answer. I'm interested in all 50 but that'd be going overboard. 😅

So um. I really appreciate you and your characters, and I'm sorry for the amount of work I put on you 💜

☄️🐉

Hello Lovely!!! Thank you sm for the interest and never apologize 😭💕💞 I love talking about my babies and love people being interested and involved with them it makes me so happy

-

2. Do they have any daily rituals?

Vax- Yes, he always showers in the morning, after breakfast and coffee. If it’s going to be a stressful day or he just feels like it, he’ll make a cup of green tea to go. And every morning he brings Kerry breakfast from their favorite bakery💓

Vincent: Always showers at night. He also likes to draw before bed, it doesn’t matter if he’s home or at Johnny and Kerry’s place, he always draws a little before bed. 💕

5. Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Vax has a home office that’s actually pretty tidy, he knows exactly where everything is, files organized physically and digitally. He also cleaned the office of the Afterlife as well. And for fun I think he once stress cleaned the Villa and it scared the people that work for Kerry because there was a merc in his house stress cleaning.

Vincent keeps his tattoo booth clean, he kinda has too since it’s a sanitary issue but his room… not so much. He tends to throw clothes around and drawings and papers and old homework shoved everywhere. It’s a nightmare but he can tell you exactly where the paper clip on the floor left of his desk is.

7. Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time?

Vax likes to paint. He likes to blast music in his ears and paint until his arms feel numb. But he does get worried about not being productive even when there’s nothing to do. Being the owner of the Afterlife, he’s always expecting the worst or a phone call saying a merc died and it’s just stressful. Kerry sometimes makes him go sit down in his studio just to relax a little

Vincent loves wasting time. Homie is so unbothered. He’ll smoke, watch tv, draw, maybe write about his dnd campaign.

15: Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Vax: Biggest Short term goal, meeting Kerry’s family. Smallest short term goal, um, not dying so he can meet Kerry’s family.

Vincent: Biggest short term goal, putting his art on display for a contest. Smallest goal, getting a new car because his truck is an issue and River drives it more than he does.

16. Biggest and smallest long term goals?

Vax: Biggest long term goal, running the Afterlife and possibly raising a successor so he’s not running it for the rest of his life. Smallest long term goal, getting Louise to like him. (It’s not that it’s not important to him, he just knows it may take a while)

Vincent: Biggest goal, opening his own tattoo shop one day. Smallest goal, graduating college. (Again, important but gonna take at least another three years)

17. Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding it?

Both are the same, shirt first, the pants, then socks, boots, and THEN jacket/hoodie/whatever they are wearing that day over their clothes (if you put your socks on first I’m scared of you)

18. Favorite beverage?

Vincent; Vanilla Coke

Vax: just a normal cola or green tea

19. What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Vax: The good stuff? Kerry. The bad, literally everything. The stress of being the owner of the afterlife and trying to fit into Rogue’s shoes, how many people depend on him, how heavy everything feels on his chest. Missing Johnny.

Vincent: A good life where he and Kerry and Johnny all live and love each other forever. He likes thinking they’ll live forever.

20. Childhood illnesses? Not really?

21. Turn ons, turn offs?

Vax: Praise kink, hair pulling, being called Prince (he likes to be a lil spoiled okay?)

Turn offs: Bitches names Allen Or Kovachek. Fuck those assholes.

Vincent: I really haven’t thought about it😭

(Gonna skip a few, this got a lil long. But I do love answering them💕💓💓)

27😈. (Hehehe angst moment) What is their biggest regret?

Vax: being unable to save Jackie and Johnny. He wakes up calling for Jackie often and cries in Kerry’s arms. Especially after he finally gets to process and mourn, he still can’t believe Jackie is really gone. And Johnny, Johnny was always there. Not that he had a choice, but Johnny became his saving grace a lot, and damn did it hurt losing him. He thought he’d lose his mind, he almost did.

Vincent: he let everyone down. He tried and fought and cried and bled and at the end of the day, he abandoned everyone and left them. He disappointed them. It hurts knowing he let Kerry down, broke his promise. He hopes maybe one day, he can fix it.

36. What makes them feel guilty?

Vax: Jackie, Johnny, anytime someone mentions the amount of money and sleepless nights Kerry went through to get Vax down from the space station, remembering the panic Vik went through when Vax was going through some shit.

Vincent: Nicky (ex boyfriend), thinking he came between Johnny and Kerry, not being there when Kerry needed him most, adding stress onto his parents in middle and high school.

43. How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self- education

Vax: So, i don’t quite know abt schools in Night City in canon, but I don’t think Vax went to school, I do think he learned from Vik and the other people that helped raise him. I think he’d value self-education because that’s what he went through, and obviously he came out okay. (And no child of his is going to Arasaka Academy 😡)

Vincent: He’s in college! So he got through elementary, middle, and high school, and by the time we meet him in the fic, he’s a second year in a five year program. I think he loves learning, but also understands it’s not for everyone to go to college. He loves learning about what he wants to learn about, either at school or self taught.

[sansajonquil]

there is a knock on the white door of the apartment, johnnie hoping he got the right door of the building. he had his first australian show with jordan sweeto; wonderland themed - rabbit 🐇 and he was visiting here to talk about depression.

I peer through the clear glass eyehole, and see him wearing a black jacket with badges. his hair is dyed dark red. I am shaking a little, as I see him. not being able to sleep last night, crying in my blanket in my bedroom which had a queen bed, a strawberry swivel chair and black brown chocolate desk, which renly said was a cool combo. As I hear a whisper in the wind, ‘ I’ll f***ing devour you. ‘ as I also go to the bathroom a lot, my tummy aching.

I say brief greeting to him through the eyehole and he too, determining it was definitely johnnie and he wasn’t evil. then I open the door, sliding open the rusty brown chains.

he sits down on the sofa, a black tapestry blanketing the wall ; ( ‘can i put up this blanket here ; an atmospheric tone for our hanging out? ‘ & I say ‘yes’ ) a skeleton reaper with black robes and a sun tracery. white clouds in fluffy form drift along the ink starry sky. they both had been struggling and doing their best to communicate in the glimpses of sunlight clarity, ‘ like the reaper here, ‘

he mentioning if anyone was wondering what he was out of context saying, he was trying to talk to his friend’s girlfriend. ‘ hi, how have you been? ‘ he says to me.

he had been singing broken at the seams, where the girl is in the boy’s arms which were scissors and he carefully holding her.

I stutter a bit, ‘ i-I’m okay. ‘ stranger things is paused on tv, in which I leave on so we can watch during our hanging out.

‘ I like this show too, ‘ he smiles, as he glances at television, during. ‘ i like eddie and eleven. you? ‘

I say, ‘ I like will. ‘

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

[sundaysundaes]

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before,  and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

[altcvnningham]

strings | johnny silverhand

summary: a storm passes through night city, but it isn't that which wakes her. it's the soft sound of guitar strings, being plucked by chrome fingers.

words: 1280

pairing: johnny silverhand / fem v (my v vana, but i avoid physical description, so read the name as whatever you like!!)

content: fluff, mild angst, Yearning™️, johnny plays guitar and it's rly therapeutic

warnings: SPOILERS, death mention, johnny shuts up for once so maybe mildly ooc, idk how guitars work

misc: soooo after listening to this on loop for the last forever, i just needed to vent and get this outta my system. i do use my v's name (vana) in this, but there's no physical description of her, so feel free to imagine v as your own!! also, it's been almost 4 years since i've officially posted any of my writing online, so while this is a little rough and not as detailed as i'd usually like, please be kind, and please enjoy!! (also ao3 link soon maybe but i'm lazy)

***

V doesn’t know what day it is when she awakes, but she does so to the quiet twang of guitar strings.

The metal blinds slide open, aware of her waking, and the morning spills into the room, dim and grey. Rain patters against the glass, and V, with her eyes still closed, curls deeper into the bedsheets to fend off the cold, away from the light towards the dark shelter of the wall. Night City can wait. She’ll enjoy this strange, soft music while it lasts.

Fingers pluck on quietly, nary a breath nor sigh to indicate the person playing. It’s a somber melody, a blue tune teased with the vague, cruel implication of hope, heartbreak, contentment. There‘s something in the way the music seems to move around the room and still the world, something timeless and calm yet so tenderly desperate about it- she feels sad and happy all at once, and suddenly, to be alive- to be dying- seems... a simple, given, painfully temporary thing. It’s a sweet, naïve tune. A fool’s song.

It cuts short.

Razor-sharp static screams in search for a signal. The strumming abruptly stops in response. The radio. It’s automated to switch on when she wakes up.

Then comes a final telltale sigh from the foot of her bed, as some garish pop song resonates brokenly through white noise. Must be a storm, she thinks. Howling wind outside her window confirms it.

A weight rises from the mattress- one that wasn’t there the night before, and V furrows her brows, braving the daylight and turning onto her side to see the figure lifting from the bed.

Chrome fingers curl around the neck of the cheap electric guitar as they prop the instrument back against the bed. A swelling ache closes around Vana’s chest. Loneliness. Separated from him by inches. Feeling without the one bound to the inside of her skull- it's agony.

Johnny. He crosses the room towards the radio in an aimless stride, and he staggers, tired. Vana briefly wonders- occupying her maddened, longing mind with something else- if he’s even capable of feeling that way, or if it’s her own waking lethargy that he feels, that clings to him. It’s usually like that with most things. And he switches the radio off, back arched downwards to reach it. Static finally turns to silence. She sees the thick lock of hair hanging in his eyes, and how he moves it with a careless jerk of his head before sauntering back to the bed again; peculiarly, he’s not wearing the bulletproof vest over his Samurai tank- the projection of the exact same faded shirt she wears now- and without the seemingly invincible façade, he almost looks... normal. Himself, maybe. Of course, when he descends back down to the end of the bed again, the blue glitched fragments of his engram form give him away. Yet somehow, unlike most times, seeing it puts her mind at ease. Not dreaming, at least.

With his back to her, Johnny picks the guitar back up and slings it weightlessly over his knee again. Out of thin air, he materialises a cigarette in his mouth, which wavers absentmindedly between pursed lips as he tunes the guitar and tests each string; Vana watches and remains completely still in her warm, blanket cocoon, not intent on interrupting this rare moment of peace. The rain drums on smoothly. Johnny pauses to pull the cigarette from his mouth. Exhale. Smoke joins in dancing alongside dust motes around the room, and Vana is happy to be alive today.

Johnny adjusts a silver ring on a flesh finger before touching the guitar’s strings again. He hesitates, stops, then straightens himself out before strumming the first note.

And then, it’s as if he loses himself to it- effortlessly playing that same melancholy tune from before without fault, without a sliver of uncertainty. His ‘ganic hand glides along each string with meticulous ease, metal fingers sliding and spreading along each fret, and the bleak light of the storm glints off of each chrome knuckle as he coaxes the music out to fill the quiet. And it's just this. The way in which he messily perfects such a common, mundane art. An ageless, timeless thing. No ugly, restless hand of Night City can snatch this away from her. The way his wrist flicks back with each note, how his hair crowds his face again as he nods slowly along, the heel he fails to notice he’s tapping in rhythm on the floor. For a moment, Johnny Silverhand’s real name lingers like a song in the back of her mind, as distant and unknown as this one, and she wonders if the person at the foot of her bed is him, that fragmented man lost in time.

Alt had said that Soulkiller does exactly by its name, that the soul dies the moment the consciousness is extracted. But watching him now, Vana refuses to believe that the glitched apparition at the foot of her bed is void of that, that same soul that inhabited the real Johnny Silverhand, that this engram isn’t as tangible and complex and real and feeling as she herself is. This projection of him, an amalgamation of every conscious want, need, thought and whim of a man who once existed- and this projection, he wakes up before her, on a morning as cold and grey and miserable as this, and plays a song for no discernible reason at all other than simply wanting to. Feeling like it.

No soul. She could weep- there's soul in every string.

Vana jostles free of the blanket and pushes herself forward, shifting to her knees. Johnny’s old dogtags, a relic of his past that dangle around her neck, clink together with each steady movement she makes towards him- terrified he’d stop playing for even a second- and she sits cross-legged behind him, facing the slender, flexing muscles of his back as he strums. She hugs herself, cold, shivering. He keeps playing. It’s bliss. She’s overcome with a sudden indescribable fondness, so much so that were she any braver in her vulnerability, any kinder to her feeling self, she’d let it bring a tear to her eye.

But Vana can only muster turning her head to the side, and resting her lonely cheek against the center of his back, desperate to feel every single breath that comes and leaves his vague, digital body. Perhaps it’s her own warmth she feels, reflecting back at her from Johnny’s feelings and senses, but she swears she feels him, hot beneath her cheek as though he were flesh and blood. The illusion is just enough that she doesn’t slip through him entirely. Perhaps, this will simply do.

Yes... fleeting as it is, as all things are, this moment is just... okay.

The song ends. Johnny plucks the final string. The chord fades out into a low, droning hum, until all that’s left is the rain on the window, the torrid rolling of the storm, and his calm, firm breaths, moving against her.

She forgets she's dying. And she would happily fall asleep again, right here, with the very thing that kills her, drinking in the song he’s let steep in the silence around them. But he slowly lowers the guitar, his body shifting beneath Vana’s unflinching cheek. Eyes fluttering shut once more, she feels him twist as he turns around, and how he catches her body in slacked repose, and finally- almost as if he wants to, as if he cares- the tangled threading of cold, metal fingers through her hair, towing her under the dark dwelling of sleep once more.

“I got you.”

[doyumacy]

RIDE OUT - 13 (finale)

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx.) ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ᴄᴀʀ ᴄʀᴀꜱʜ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.5k

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @coffee-prince-kyungsoo@xcharlottemikaelsonx@marksquare@tomorrowxforever@yoongsicles @neococo7 @angels-from-california@ahgastayzen@hiraarri @uhyikesbro

you feel numb. everything hurts but you don't know exactly where. you can hear all the noise going on but your eyes are too weak to open them. to be honest, it feels so good to stay like that and the more you think of it, the more you like it. are you dying?

“oh god, that’s not good,” mark comments as he finds a larger piece of glass, about an inch wide, wedged deep into the side of your leg. most of the blood on the leg seems to be coming from that particular wound.

"help is coming," you hear yuta say.

mark looks down again as he hears you hiss, finding his hand. mark holds your hand tightly and you swallow. you slowly open your eyes. "hey, hey. I got you. stay with me, baby," mark says, "help is gonna be here any minute."

yuta kneels next to you, shucking off his sweat shirt to wrap around your leg, the wound steadily seeping blood that stained his shirt red.

"i'm dizzy," you murmur, your voice trailing off.

mark gently holds your head and put it on his knee. "shh, baby. you're gonna be okay."

"isn't this funny?" you try to laugh but your chest is too sore to do so.

"what's so funny?" yuta traces his fingers on your hair.

"the two men i love are here to watch me die," your words slurs together.

mark shakes his head. "don't say that, y/n. you're gonna be fine, i promise you."

the blood is already soaking through the shirt and yuta is trying to find a dry corner to press the wound again. “you won't die." he assures you. "hold on a bit, okay? i can hear the sirens."

“is my car ok?” you ask, suddenly opening your eyes and trying to push yourself up. mark puts his hand on your shoulder, holding you down as he glances over at the destroyed car. “i liked that car. so much”

“don’t worry about it right now, let’s take care of you and we’ll get your car sorted out later.”

you don't respond, your head lolling in the crook of mark's arm. “hey, stay with me, baby. y/n?” he moves his arm, bouncing you a bit. still no response. “y/n!”

mark hears yuta's boots scrape on the pavement as he turns around, taking in the scene in front of him. “yeah, we don’t have time to wait for the ambulance, you're driving her there yourself.”

"what?" mark looks at him. "what about you?"

"i need to stay," yuta eyes doyoung who's laying on the floor, probably dead.

"you need to get her out of here.” yuta says.

mark nods and before he scoops you in his arms, he takes off his black hoodie and tosses it to yuta who is shirtless. "i'll call you when we get there."

"thanks," yuta throws him his keys. "go."

mark hurries to get past him and open the door, scrambling into the back seat and placing you gently on the seats.

“babe? you with us me?” mark asks, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice.

you just stare at him, humming quietly in the back of your throat. mark can see your eyes starting to lose focus and he knows you're fading.

“don't do this, baby. don't leave me.” his voice cracks and his eyes burns.

“i love you.” you manage to lift your hand, hooking your fingers on the side of his shirt.

"i love you too, you idiot. so much.”

and then your eyes see nothing but darkness.

“y/n suh's family?”

the four men raise their head as mark and johnny vacate their seats. "yes? i'm her brother." johnny says.

“come with me please.” their shoes squeak on the shiny floor as they walk away, leaving mark, jisung and yuta alone in the waiting room.

johnny's chest is tight, fire in his lungs and throat as he inhales. his eyes hurt  and can feel how puffy they are, no doubt bloodshot throughout.

"she lost blood but we're giving her a transfusion right now," the doctor explains to him. "she also has some cuts and bruises due to the car accident, but she should be fine."

"she's gonna be fine?" johnny nods and gulps, almost sobbing. "oh god. she's fine."

johnny leans on the wall, placing a hand on his hip, sighing. "can i see her?"

"she's actually asking for you." the doctor nods and opens the door.

after you spend some time with johnny, you ask for jisung next. you can tell he had been crying because his eyes were so red and had a runny nose. you let him know that you weren't sorry and you would do it again if necessary.

“i just… i was so scared when you and mark didn’t make it to his apartment,” jisung gulps. “i thought… you died.”

“jisung, i’m here,” you lift your hand and he takes it. “and i’m sorry for you but i will keep kicking your butt.”

jisung giggles softly and nods. “i can live with that.”

mark glances into the room and then down the hall where the sign of room numbers. johnny gives him a smile and a smack on the shoulder. "go. she wants to see you too."

mark stands there, bewildered for a moment, before taking a cautious step forward, craning his neck to see further into the room from the doorway. the bed slowly comes into view as he steps forward and the first thing he sees is you rolling your eyes.

you have a white bandage covering your leg and a transfusion bag hanging from an iv pole, heart monitor beeping quietly but steadily in the corner.

your  eyes blink slowly open and you grin happily at him. “mark.”

mark makes himself take the last six steps into the room and up to the bed. “oh my god. hi, hi," he plants a kiss on your head. "hi," he says, more relieved.

a sheepish smile on your face. “hi, baby.”

"how are you feeling?" mark asks, tilting his head to the side.

"i am so light headed right now," you smirk.

“no shit, huh? you left half your blood in the backseat of the car.” and in yuta's shirt, and on my hands.

you pout. "I'm sorry."

"i'm kidding, babe." mark sits next to you. "you're here. that's all i care about."

you nod and sigh. "johnny told me yuta left. i want to know what happened."

mark presses his lips together and knits his eyebrows. "we almost didn't make it." he stares at you. "doyoung had you there, on your knees and yuta had to... figure something out. his team was a mile away and we knew we didn't have time."

mark's bottom lip trembles and he nips at it. "he shot doyoung before he hurt you. i just... i just thought he would pull the trigger and i-" he shakes his head, frowning. "we got there in time."

“and doyoung? did he die?” you inquire.

mark shakes his head. “no, but the interpol will take care of him now.”

"thank you," you look at him, cupping his face in your hands.

"you don't have to thank me," he takes your hands and kiss them gently. "i'd do it again. i love you."

"i love you," you say back and he carefully wrap his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

a knock on the door makes mark to pull away and you frown when you see who it is.

it's taeil, but his hair is brown and the red is gone. he is also wearing a black suit.

"what are you doing here?" you stare at him.

taeil smiles and takes out his badge. "moon taeil. interpol agent."

"oh," you and mark say at the same time.

"I'm here on behalf of my partner yuta," he explains. "he needed to return to Japan, you know, paperwork is a bitch. anyway, kim doyoung won't be a pain in the ass for a long time."

taeil takes a few more steps and takes a white envelope from his suit jacket bag. "yuta also asked me to give you this."

you grab the white envelope and look at mark. mark nods. "so, that's it?" you ask.

"what do you mean?" taeil looks at you.

"i mean, can we live... freely?"

"mmm," taeil purses his lips as if thinking. "yeah, sure. just don't do anything to be on the interpol radar."

you chuckle. "have you met these men?"

"exactly why i say it," taeil smiles. "i gotta go. good to see you're fine."

"thank you." you nod.

you get discharged from the hospital days later. you’re in your bedroom, mark sleeping peacefully next to you. you haven't read the letter that yuta left you before he left and you think it's a good time to do so. you stretch a little and open the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed taking the white envelope. you unwrap the shit and sigh.

𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝒾 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹𝒷𝓎𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽.

𝒾 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇. 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒽 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.

𝒾 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒾 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎; 𝒾 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒾 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾'𝓂 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 (𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒾 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝒸𝓀𝓎). 𝒾'𝓂 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝑒'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒻 𝓌𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎.

𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻. 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒, 𝒾'𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎,

𝓎𝓊𝓉𝒶.

you sigh and close your eyes pressing the sheet against your chest.

yuta is gone for real.

you leave the white sheet on top of the nightstand and gently turn, facing mark’s face. his lips are slightly parted and you grin softly caressing his cheek with your fingertips. he scrunches his nose and opens one eye. “i guess your hobby is watching people sleep.” he murmurs, his voice raspy.

you giggle and keep tracing your fingertips on his cheek. “i like watching you.”

“i’m so pretty, i know you can’t help yourself,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. he smiles. “it’s almost 4 am, why are you still awake?”

“i’m thirsty and i need to pee,” you pout. “can you get me some water while i go to the bathroom?”

“anything for you,” he gives you a peck and gets up from the bed. “let me help you first.”

mark circles the bed and comes to your side, helping you to stand up carefully as the wound on your leg still makes it difficult for you to stand up. mark almost carries you to the bathroom and once inside, you look at him. “i can take it from here.”

mark scoffs, rolling his eyes. “you have came in my face i don't know how many times and you don’t want me to see you pee?”

“i have a shy bladder!” you whine.

mark chuckles and nods. “alright. i’ll go to the kitchen and get you some water then.”

“thank you,” you grin.

mark goes to the kitchen, pouring some water in the glass. he returns to you’re bedroom and you’re back in the bed, your back against the headboard. “here you go, babe.” he hands you a glass of water.

you grab it and take a sip of water. he gets in the bed again and turns, looking at you. “come home with me.”

“as in… moving in with you?” you stare at him.

“no.” he gently wraps an arm around your waist. “come home with me.”

you frown. his eyes not leaving yours as if he is trying to make you understand something. home.

his place?

home.

home.

“oh,” it’s all you say when you realise what he means. “home.”

he slowly nods, smiling. “i haven’t been home in so long and i want to take you with me.”

“yes.”

“yes?” he knits his eyebrows.

you laugh. “why do you suddenly look confused? i said yes. i’m going with you.”

mark smirks and gives you a kiss. “you’re gonna love it there.”

“god, what ever made me agree to come here? it’s so cold and rainy," you whine.

mark giggles as he covers your body with his jacket. "better?"

you nod. "for the record, i don't hate it here."

mark hums as he opens the white umbrella and wraps an arm around your waist. "i don't!" you look at him. "it has been raining for three days straight and it's getting colder."

soon as you got better, you told johnny you'd be leaving with mark. you didn't know how long you would be there and although they were sad, they supported you. and they also knew they were very welcomed. and jisung spent almost four weeks with you in canada until johnny had to go and collect him. he also stayed for a few days.

mark rolls his eyes and says, "we have a heater back home, babe. c'mon."

"i hate you," you say, without heat. his face turning to you smiling shyly.

"fair enough," he says. "Any particular reason, or just in general?"

"how are you not cold?" you demand.

mark chuckles, the raspy sound sending a delicious warmth spreading through your chest.

"i'm made with in-built cold resistance."

"can i borrow some?" you ask, a smile loitering at the corner of your lips.

"sadly no," he replies with an answering smirk. "but," he continues, momentarily disappearing in the kitchen, "i can call the maintenance guy and he will fix it in no time."

"having sex keeps one’s body really warm, by the way." you inform him, nonchalant.

mark cocks an eyebrow at you. "what are you suggesting, then?"

you shrug. "we could warm each other up and have a good time at the same time."

one side of the bed had your thick, purple with white dots patterned blanket pushed up, placed over mark's back, and you are underneath. naked.

mark is slowly pushing his dick into your wet hole while he kisses your neck. you whine, biting your lip. "move faster."

"i'm taking my time," he nips at your earlobe and you squeeze your legs around his waist, making him groan. "that's not nice." he looks down at you.

"go faster." you smile. "please."

mark responds with a hard and clean thrust, sending you close to heaven. he started moving fast, going deeper on every thrust. you moan, throwing your head back.

“shit…” you curse lowly the moment mark's fingers find your clit, moving his thumb in circles.  “oh, damn. fuck, mark please…”

mark growls between gritted teeth, still thrusting into you supporting himself on his elbows. he releases a few groans, closing his eyes and yanks his head back as he picks up his speed again, fucking you senselessly. your nails claw at his sides and stomach as your whole body writhes in pleasure from the way he is fucking you.

you come first with a loud cry, calling out mark's name. his fingers clasp into your hips one last time, holding you as close as possible when he releases his shot inside him, groaning. mark snuggles into your neck, panting. "ah, you were right."

"huh?" you ask, panting.

"i'm so hot now," he chuckles.

"you better get the heater fixed, mark." you stroke his back.

"i will," he nods. "maybe next week."

you laugh kissing his cheek. "i love you."

"i love you." mark cups your face and kisses you. "so so so much." he keeps kissing you.

you smile, kissing him back. "you're obsessed with me." you try to sound like him.

mark chuckles. "not at all. you're just nice."

you punch him on the shoulder and he glances at you. "i was joking!"

"so do i," you smile, tilting your head to the side.

mark scoffs. "you're lucky i'm in love with you."

you rub his chin and look into his eyes. "i am."

"are we proposing to each other?" mark jokes.

"ah, mark," you groan, pushing him away and taking all the blanket for you. "you're so annoying."

mark laughs and kisses your shoulder. "ah, they weren’t wrong when they said you’re a bitch,” he repeats what he said when you two met.

you beam. “did i hurt your feelings?” you pout mockingly.

“you’re gonna need more than that to hurt my feelings, gorgeous,” he winks at you.

(...)

“goddammit,” yuta murmurs, looking for his electronic key to enter the building.

it’s the third time he forgets it and even finds it more annoying that he hasn't learned the gate code and he has been living there for almost four months. he feels so stupid.

yuta eyes his watch on his wrist and it’s almost 1 am on a weekday. he can only hope for a miracle. he leans on the wall and sighs. he’s tired and all he wants to do is to sleep.

just when he had made up his mind and call a friend to spend the night in their place, he notices someone walking towards the building entrance. yuta sighs with relief and he tilts his head when he recognises the person. “you again?”

she turns her face to him and cock an eyebrow. “you again?” she asks back.

yuta doesn’t know his neighbors that well and the only interaction he has had with them, it’s with her. the last time he got locked outside, she appeared and rescued him. yuta didn't even remember her name and felt so bad.

yuta rubs the back of his neck. “i mean, it's nice seeing you again.”

she smiles as she unlocks the door. “nice seeing you too…” she presses her lips together. “i can’t remember your name.”

“it’s yuta,” he says as he gets into the building. “uhm… i’m sure your name is beautiful, but i can’t remember it either.”

“y/n,” she grins and presses the elevator button. “we’re terrible neighbors.”

yuta chuckles. “i’m already a terrible resident, what did you expect?”

the elevator doors open and yuta lets her get in first. right after the doors close, she presses the fourth floor button and eyes yuta. he nods. “fifth floor please.”

the elevator starts moving and neither of them say a thing. yuta eyes her trying not to be as obvious. she’s beautiful and yuta notice her dark eyes. maybe she’s a waitress?

the doors open on the fourth floor and she turns to yuta. “goodnight, yuta, right?”

yuta nods and smiles. “goodnight, y/n.”

she turns on her heels and right when the doors are about to close, she shoves her arm so the door won’t close. yuta startle. “would you like to have coffee some day?”

yuta blinks and opens his mouth. “i-i uh y-”

“oh shit, i’m sorry,” she places a hand on her chest. “maybe you’re dating someone or even married. i’m sorry.”

yuta shakes his head and smirks at her. “i’d love to have a coffee with you one day.”

she smiles shyly and nods. “can i get your number?”

“sure,” yuta grins.

[babiesdreams]

Nct reaction to their s.o giving them silent treatment (cause y/n is a drama queen)

REQUESTED BY ANON

Part 2 Part 3

-- requests open--

Warnings: Angst (specially TY), sexual tension (DY and Ten), mentions of alcohol (Ten) 

♡ My personal favs will be marked with this heart. 

♡Taeyong: You were mad at him. You really worked hard on that letter and seeing how he basically ignored it. What’s wrong with him. He’s always been this cute boy that you loved from the bottom of your heart and now he just breaks it like it’s nothing. You are not willing to talk to him right now, partially because you want him to know how it feels like to be ignored, but also because you are afraid your words would hurt him. It’s been hours since you’ve been ignoring him and it wasn’t easy to ignore his pouts or his words. “What’s wrong?” He finally says with a trembling voice. “Do you even still care about me?” You say, heart broken. “How could you say that Y/N? You are literally the person I care about the most.” He says almost tearing up. “And why did you ignore my letter?” You say, already crying. “I’ve been busy all day and I wanted to surprise you with another letter gosh” He says, also tearing up. “But why would you ignore me, it’s such a cruel thing to do” He says with a broken tone. “I didn’t want to argue. I’m sorry” You say hugging him. [I may have cried with this one]

Taeil: “What is it really?” Taeil asks, clueless. What in the world would make you ignore him all day along? Oh right, he’s forgotten your anniversary. “So you don’t know” You say with an ofended laugh. “What am I supposed to know? You should talk to me if something’s wrong” He says trying to make you understand his side. “How am I supposed to talk about how you forgot our anniversary? Isn’t it embarrassing enough to just wait for something?” You say ofended as hell. He laughs at your comment. “You are joking right? Is this a hidden camera? Because our anniversary is tomorrow and I have not foget about it, I planned a lot of things to do together, bought you plenty of gifts... I honestly can’t believe you are serious right now” He says, frustrated, angry, mad. “No, today is...” You say looking at your phone, realizing that he was right. “I though today was 30th” You say looking dow, while tears start forming on your eyes. “I’m sorry Taeil” You say in a broken tiny voice. “I-It’s okay” He says, calmed down and coming to you so he can hug you.

Johnny: “Okay what is it now” Johnny says, breaking the silence of the room. You look at him, angry, and completely refusing to talk. “Hello? Can you tell me what the fuck is wrong?” He says, trying to force a reaction in you, and he gets a reaction. “Oh you tell me, Johnny suh, What the fuck is wrong? If you don’t love me anymore, you can just tell me, but cheating on me is really low. I just thought you were better than that” You say yelling at him. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t cheat on you” He says looking at you confused. “Then What is this?” You say, showing him the bra you found on his side of the bed. “That was supposed to be a secret” He says, taking it from your hands. “So you admit it” You say crossing your arms, ready to beat the shit out of him. “Yes, I admit, I bought you that victoria secret’s bra you wanted. Sorry” He says in an ironic way. “Aha, You... What?” You say confused. “I bought you this, because it was on your wish list. And I took it out of the box to compare the size with your bras, I thought I had put it back in the box.” He explains. “Oh, I’m sorry” You say in a soft tone. “It’s fine, just don’t ever think that way about me, I would NEVER cheat on you baby” He says placing a kiss on your lips.

♡Yuta: He tried to ignore you as well, but at this point he’s pissed off. Like why would’t you talk things out? “Can’t you just tell me?” He says, blocking the view of the TV. You move your head, so that you can still see the Tv show you were watching. He gets he remote control and turns it off. “I’m talking to you, are you fucking deaf?” He says, angrier than ever. “Go talk with Samantha” You say looking away from his gaze. “Who the fuck is Samantha?” He says holding your chin so that you are looking at him again. “You tell me” You say taking his hand off your chin with an angry hand movement. “You moaned her name in your sleep” You simply say, heart broken. “How the fuck am I supposed to know that?” He says, angrily. “Are you cheating on me Yuta?” You say to him, almost tearing up. “You know I would never do that, why do you even ask me that?” He says, sitting next to you. “Because you could be with someone better than me, how am I supposed to believe I’m enough for the perfect Nakamoto Yuta?” You say as tears fall down your cheeks. “I’m not perfect, and I love you, more than anyone else Y/N” He says, cupping your face so that you look at him again. “Why?, Why do you love me?” You say in a tiny broken tone. “I just do. There’s no explanation. I love how you simle at me, how you hold my hand, how our eyes meet and my hearts skips a beat. I love you messy hair in the morning, how you sing in the shower, how you support me. I love your kisses, and I love every single inch of your body. There’s no such thing as perfect, but you’re the closest to that word” He says tearing up at the middle of his answer. You smile at him and kiss his lips. [I definetely cried with this one]

Kun: He tries to cheer you up with little things like caressing your hair, kissing you, giving you massages. But his presence just makes you even angrier. The fact that he talked about you with his friends in a not completely nice way, it’s just making you go crazy. He touches your hand slightly and you let go of his touch, which is enough to make him speak. “What is happening?” He asks confused. “So I’m just a fun game, aren´t I?” You say, copying his words. “What? Oh, you think that.. that was another Y/N” You look at him pissed off, not even wanting to look his way and stand up, wanting to leave. “I swear, it was not about you” He says explaining himself. “You must know a lot of Y/N, what a lucky man, surrounded by lovers” You say leaving the room. He grabs your hand and forcing you to stop. “Can I explain myself?” He says looking at you, and you just don’t move at all. He gets that as a yes. “We were drunk and they asked me about my exes, and one of them was named Y/N” You nod ironically and turn your back, resuming your steps. “I would never say something like that about you” He says getting in front of you, stopping you from leaving. “I love you Y/N” It’s the first time he says those words to you, and you hate the timing of it. You can’t help but calming down with his words. “Do you really mean it?” You say looking at him. He simply nods, with a serious gaze. You eventually forgive him, when the boys confirm it was all about his ex.

Doyoung: He sits in front of you wanting answers, explanations to your silence. “What’s it?” He says looking right into your eyes. “Tall” You just say, without any further explanation. He looks at you still confused. “You said your ideal type is tall. How am I tall?” You say screaming at him. “Okay, first of all that’s an interview from a year ago, second of all, I just don’t care about the height, I answered because it was an interview” He says in a calmed tone. “Would you prefer me if I was taller?” You ask, angrily. “No, I like you fun-sized” He says chuckling. You stand up, upset at his words. “I’m serious Doyoung” You say walking out. “I’m serious too” He says as he stands up. Before you exit the room, he puts his hand next to your head, trapping you between his figure and the wall. “Do I need to show you how much I like you?” He says in a low tone and you gasp at his reaction. “N-no” You say looking away from his gaze. He grabs you, making your body rest on his shoulder and walks into the bedroom. “Oh, I’m showing you” He says with a smirk.

Ten:He was completely drunk, but he threw up on your brand new dress. You were more than pissed off, you were mad at him, and definetely unable to speak to him. “Gosh, my head hurts” He says entering the room and you just ignore him. “Did I do something stupid yesterday?” He says, noticing your expression right away. “You puked on my brand new dress” You say, angrily at him. “I’ll buy you a new one” He says calmly. “I liked that one” You say pouting. He comes closer to you and starts kissing your neck, making you forget about the dress “I’m sorry babe” He says against your skin “I’ll make it up for you” He says as he kisses lower. 

Masterlist --requests open--